The Phoenix Curse (Book 2): After

by D. R. Johnson

  Something in his voice tugged at me. A softness and caring that I refused to accept from him. I shut him out, forcing my arm to loosen its grip. I simply said. "Chair."

  "One step at a time." He answered, keeping his hold on me as he guided me the few steps to the chair. He finally let my arm go as he lowered me down so I could brace myself. My ribs momentarily pinched off my air again, and I closed my eyes as I waited for the pain to subside.

  When the ache faded, I turned a glare up at Hawk. The patient smile he gave me didn't dampen my anger. His words flitted across my mind again, the part about women being forced to breed. Was Hawk a rapist? That thought cooled my anger and I looked away.

  Then I saw the source of the aroma on my plate and all other thoughts fled.

  "Are those real potatoes?" I gasped.

  Hawk chuckled. "Yes. They're about the only thing we can get to grow out here. Potatoes every damned day. You'll get sick of them soon enough."

  I was suddenly ravenous. It had been ages since I'd had mashed potatoes. I grabbed the spoon and hastily took a sample. They were lukewarm but wonderful.

  Hawk reached into his pocket and set out three pills next to the glass of water. "Your antibiotic and these should help with the pain."

  "Thank you, Hawk," I said, obediently taking the pills before I dug back into the potatoes.

  "Anytime." His smile once again unsettled me and I looked back to my plate. I wouldn't allow myself to trust his kindness. I concentrated on eating the small portions on my plate as Hawk paced. He paused only when I was done.

  "Ali," His voice was heavy again, immediately catching my attention. I looked up to meet his eyes, seeing the concerned expression he wore. He continued, "When Reed's done with you, you'll be fair game. Russell will be at your throat in minutes if you don't have someone to speak for you."

  The dread was back, mixing with the potatoes in my stomach and I suddenly felt nauseous. Once again, my voice was strained when I spoke. "Why are you telling me this?"

  He moved to the desk and sat against the edge, bringing his body close to mine. His leg brushed against my thigh and I cringed. He reached out as if to touch me, his fingers coming close to my face. I shied away. A chill spread through me as my pulse quickened, and I dreaded what was coming next. Thankfully, he dropped his hand back to the desk without touching me.

  "Rape isn't my thing." His voice was low, conspiratorial. "I hate the pit. Some of the women here are just as bad as the men. They mewl and bargain, selling themselves for protection. Some crumple under the weight of it all. They lose their minds and still Reed doesn't care.

  "I know you're different, Ali. Breck's already telling the stories of what you did last night. Most don't believe a little girl like you could have done it, but Mick, Jimmy and Old Ben aren't ever coming back."

  Hawk named them. For a moment, my mind was lost in that thought despite the pressing situation at hand. The three men I killed now had names. Which one had been which? It was all just a blur in my head, I couldn't remember. Now I would wonder what name belonged to the dead pair of eyes that stared back at me.

  Then Hawk leaned closer, pulling me back to the present and my panic grew. I wanted to punch him in the face as hard as I could and run, but I knew I couldn't get away. Not now. Not until I was stronger. I kept myself motionless and stared back into his hazel eyes. His voice was a whisper. "I want you to know I've never done this before. I want to offer you my protection. Russell would never challenge me."

  He studied me as he pulled away, an intense look on his face. Both of my hands were fisted so tightly, I could feel my nails digging into my skin. Anger somehow found its way to the surface, past the panic and revulsion. I snapped. "Who's going to protect me from Reed?"

  Hawk sighed. "I can't offer much there. Not yet anyway. I promise you I'll do what I can."

  I felt like an object being bargained for. Tears stung my eyes, threatening to spill over.

  "Get out." I hissed.

  His brow creased and he looked defeated. He stood slowly, reaching for his lantern, but paused as if he was going to say something else. Instead, the silence dragged on. Finally, he ended with, "I'll have Mona come in to check on you soon. I'll be back at the end of my shift."

  Hawk turned and didn't look back. As the door closed, I let out the breath I had been holding. I shuddered violently as the tears finally fell. Hawk's proposal drove home how horrifying my situation actually was. The worst part being, I knew he was probably my best option.

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  I picked at what was left of my food, grateful the portions had been small. My stomach was upset to the point I thought I might lose what little I had eaten. Despair flooded my thoughts, and the tears threatened to fall. I fought back, refusing to give in.

  Turning my attention to my physical limitations, I slowly rolled my shoulder until a twinge of pain stopped me. This time, I accepted the tears that sprang to my eyes. Physical pain was better than emotional.

  The next exercise I concocted had me pressing my arm down against my leg, testing my strength. I was discouraged by how little pressure I was able to push against my leg before the pain forced me to stop. My movement was still very limited, but at least being upright helped clear the dizziness. I was frustrated, but convincing myself I would recover quickly.

  I stood, deciding on another test. My ribs pinched tightly against my lungs, and I had to brace against the desk with my good arm to avoid falling back, but I did it. I was on my feet. The throbbing in my shoulder faded, and I found myself more stable than I expected.

  Walter's words replayed in my mind. Stronger, healthier, and ya heal faster too now. If it only took two weeks to heal his emphysema, how long would it take me to heal from this little pinprick in my shoulder? The thought gave me hope.

  I slowly made my way to the window, pulling the curtain back with my good hand. The boards were firmly nailed on from the outside. After a quick inspection, I found nails on the inside that blocked the window from being opened. Prodding them with a finger, they appeared to be securely in place, but I might be able to pry them out with my knife. To what end, I wasn't sure yet, but it would be a start.

  As long as I was able to keep my knife a secret, I still had other possibilities than Hawk's proposal. Even though I tried not to dwell on it, the thought kept coming back to tug at me. I couldn't let myself think of Hawk as an option. My only option was making sure Joss and I got out of here alive.

  Exploring the room, I started with the dresser. The top drawers were full of dank, dirty clothes and not much else. Using my good arm to steady myself, I dropped to my knees to check the bottom drawers. I clenched my teeth against the tremor of pain that shot through my ribs and shoulder. It passed quick enough, but I wondered if I would be able to pull myself back up. My only reward for the pain was more clothes and a few old magazines.

  I groaned. Looking towards the nightstand, I decided it was easier to crawl to it than try to stand up. I held on to the bed for balance and shuffled my knees along the filthy carpet. Finding a Gideon bible in the top drawer and an old phone book in the bottom, I grumbled at my lack of luck but wasn't surprised.

  Finally challenging myself to stand, I carefully centered myself over my legs and rose slowly. Again, my injuries throbbed, but it faded quickly enough. I was relieved it was easy enough to get up as long as I wasn't lying prone.

  Only somewhat discouraged at what little my search had turned up, I sat on the bed and absently opened the old bible. I was flipping through the thin pages when I heard the door creek open. My heart immediately sped up as I stared down the hallway.

  A dim light danced against the walls and the flame of a candle appeared. I relaxed a little, remembering Hawk had promised a visit from Mona. As the woman came into view, I realized Mona was the old, smelly woman that had assisted him last night.

  I tried to summon a smile for her, but I found the task extremely difficult. I still remembered the indifference she treated me with when Reed
had ordered her to save my life. She paused, watching me with the bible in my lap. Her face remained expressionless. I closed the book, placing it back in the nightstand and gently closing the drawer.

  "Hello." I said, breaking the silence.

  She grunted her reply and then continued to stare at me. As the uncomfortable silence grew, I shifted uneasily until she finally spoke. "Are you finished with your tray?"

  "Yes, ma'am." I was quick to answer, trying politeness, but she ignored that as well. She gathered my tray, then spared a quick glance before she turned to go.

  "Mona?" I asked and thought I saw her grimace. She turned back to me with an odd look on her face. "Are you able to get my books for me?"

  I was grasping at straws, and my own question surprised me. It was all I could think of. It seemed like an innocent question, but Mona looked frightened. The chance I would get anything returned was slim, but I had to try. There were memories in those backpacks I didn't want to leave behind.

  "They're probably in the storage room." She said bluntly. Her dark eyes were wide and she watched me intently, as if trying to figure me out.

  "Could you bring me one? And maybe a light to read by? It's so dark in here" Sadness and weariness crept into her eyes as I tried to fool her with innocence. It seemed as if she believed my act, and I wondered if she was one of the women who bargained for her place here or if she had gone mad.

  "I can't." Her words came out quick and soft, a rushed whisper. She spun and nearly fled the room, worried I would try to stop her again.

  But I had no intention of doing so. Mona seemed cold and indifferent, but I was sure I had uncovered a crack in her wall. I doubted it was something I could exploit, though. She had made herself a place here, that was obvious, and to help me would be risking her survival.

  I put her out of my mind and turned my attention back to the room. The light was starting to dim after I had explored the small closet and bathroom. They had both been stripped bare. Even the rod for the shower curtain had been removed. There was a rancid bucket of water in the bathroom and I didn't want to think what it had been used for.

  I stood in front of the hallway door for several minutes, wondering what would happen if I opened it. It didn't appear to be locked, but I knew Hawk was standing guard in the hallway. It was possible other men could be patrolling the area. This was definitely something I wasn't ready for just yet.

  As I thought of Hawk, I instantly knew I didn't want to have another conversation with him tonight. Even though I had no idea how long his guard duty would last, I decided to lie back down and pretend to sleep when he came in. I hoped I would be able to get up on my own later, not wanting Hawk to help me again, but I would deal with that if I came to it. Besides, I could tell my body needed to rest and heal.

  I couldn't bring myself to lie back down on the bed. It was filthy and it gave me the creeps, so I pulled the pillows and blankets to the floor in the small space between the bed and the wall. I eased myself to the ground more successfully this time and curled up on top of a lumpy pillow. I closed my eyes, hoping sleep would help the hours pass more quickly.

  I was still awake when the door opened and the familiar lantern light reflected off the walls. Closing my eyes, I kept my breathing deep and even. I heard his muted footfalls stop at the desk and the sound of something heavy being sat down on the hard surface. Then, he moved closer to me, still holding the lantern.

  Hawk never let the lantern light shine directly on me, and he only paused at the edge of the bed for a second. I was glad he didn't linger. Moments later, he retreated from the room. I exhaled as soon as I heard the door shut behind him. My ruse had worked. I assumed I would have to face him tomorrow, but I had bought myself a few hours of recovery time. I easily drifted into a light sleep after that.

  A cross between my injuries and the hard floor kept me drifting in and out of consciousness. The meager light from the windows had vanished hours ago, so I knew it was well into night when the sound of the door creaking open brought me fully awake. I remained still, keeping up the pretense of sleeping. Being hidden behind the bed only protected me so much. It hadn't taken Hawk that long to find me. I waited, hoping the visitor would announce themselves, hoping it wasn't Reed.

  When the door closed, a beam of light flared to life. A tremor of fear washed through me as I realized it wasn't Hawk's lantern or Mona's candle. This was a flashlight. I watched the reflection of the light bounce off the bed as the bearer searched for me, and then my blood ran ice cold as he called out.

  "Here kitty, kitty, kitty." Russell. Although I had only heard him speak a few times, his tinny grating voice was unmistakable. A chill of revulsion rattled down my spine before I was able to gather a tenuous grip on my composure.

  Quietly easing my leg up to my chest, I retrieved my knife from my boot, clenching my teeth against the pain. Staying below the edge of the bed but ready, I managed to roll over to my knees and attain a more defensible position. My ribs screamed in agony and I gulped air, hoping I hadn't alerted him to where I hid. The pain in my shoulder dimmed in comparison to the torture in my ribs.

  "Here kitty, kitty." He sang again, whispering the words. Cringing, I didn't know what I was going to do, but I had a feeling he wasn't in here with Reed's permission. I hoped the transgression of breaking Reed's command would get me out of trouble if I had to kill him.

  Russell never made it around the bed. The beam of light spiraled randomly across the ceiling as it dropped it to the floor, and Russell's body crashed down heavily on top of the mattress. His hand flopped in front of my face, and I fell back. Ready to execute my ambush, I prepared for his attack, but he was motionless.

  For several seconds, I waited with bated breath. His hand hung limply over the side, mere inches from my face. When the smell of vomit hit my nose, I leaned back in disgust, figuring the man was drunk and had come here to enact his revenge, but passed out instead.

  Standing as silently as I could, which wasn't very silent, I found my struggle hadn't disturbed Russell at all. Still, I crept around the bed to fetch the flashlight, being as quiet as possible. I quickly flicked it off and pondered what I should do. Minutes passed and Russell remained lifeless.

  I finally decided if he was drunk enough to pass out, he was probably drunk enough for me to easily handle if he were to wake back up. I turned the flashlight on and shown the light on his face and gasped. At first I thought it might be the light of the flashlight throwing odd shadows, but then I realized he was more than just drunk, he was ill.

  What I did next took more courage and resolve than I'd ever had to summon. I somehow found it inside me to actually reach out and touch his forehead. I was repulsed at first just to initiate contact with him, but then I felt the fire burning in his skin.

  I swallowed hard. Ideas were forming in my head that I didn't like. Tentatively, I leaned over him as far as I dared and sniffed. All I could smell was vomit. There was no alcohol on him. He was passed out from sickness, not alcohol.

  I backed against the wall and turned off the flashlight. It was an effort to breathe and slow my heartbeat as my stray ideas poisoned my every thought. There was one thing left to check, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. The sound of my quickened pulse was thundering in my ears, drowning out everything else.

  Five minutes passed. Then ten. It was probably nearing thirty minutes, and I still kept my eyes glued to the man passed out on the bed. Inevitability, I shifted, the fear of being caught off guard nagging me into action.

  With a press of my thumb, the flashlight was back on. Russell still hadn't moved. He could have been dead except for the slightest movement of his chest rising and falling. It was almost indiscernible unless you were looking for it.

  Shining the light on his dangling arm, I saw the thin, bloodstained bandage wrapped around his wound. The unmistakable red welts and rashes were already spreading across his skin, the first signs of infection.

  The flashlight fell from my hand and I stumbled b
ackwards in shock. That was the wound I had given him. That was the arm I had bitten.

  I crumpled to the ground unable to breathe, as if I'd been punched in the gut. The taste of bile rose in my throat as my stomach threatened to revolt. It was all I could do to hold it down. Somehow, I managed to crawl to my little pallet, and I buried my face in the pillows, unable to hold back the sobs. I still had the presence of mind to muffle the sounds as best I could, but I wasn't able to stop my mind from becoming trapped in delirium.

  All my suspicions were confirmed in that horrible, horrible moment. I was afraid. I hated myself. I was utterly disgusted with what I had become.

  Russell was turning because I had bitten him.

  I was a monster.

  CHAPTER 5 – JOSS

  My first few hours as a prisoner were overcome by depression as I adjusted to the grim situation. I was appalled by what Anna had revealed to me about this place. She was an elderly woman, a school teacher back before the world changed. Reed had taken her captive nearly three years ago and forced her to be the matron of their orphanage and nursery.

  This hotel had been operational for three years. That fact took a little while to sink in, but the more I thought about it, the more disgusted I was.

  This floor, the nursery, had plenty of occupants running around, mostly children. They ranged in age, some barely walking and others not that much younger than me. There was even at least one newborn here. I had heard the small cries periodically through the morning.

  Catching what little sleep I could, I curled up in a chair in the small lobby with only a thin blanket that Anna had thrown over me. The children woke up early, chasing away any thoughts of sleep. I found myself the subject of their curiosity.

  It felt odd to see kids being normal, running up and down the hallway and playing inside rooms. It surprised me, but it also helped me relax. They didn't know fear, at least not yet. However, the subdued attitude of their caretakers didn't let me forget about the danger I was in.