The Phoenix Curse (Book 2): After

by D. R. Johnson

  It was still early morning when a girl, not much older than me, approached. She seemed shy, but also just as curious as the children. Her long dark blond curls framed her round, freckled face, and her smile was reassuring.

  "Hello." She said, still standing a few feet away.

  "Hi." I suddenly felt awkward.

  "Anna says you're new." She continued and I nodded in return. I shifted uneasily under her stare, not exactly sure what she wanted. Finally, she questioned me. "Where are you from?"

  "Oklahoma." I answered. Her look was still expectant, but I wasn't sure how much information I wanted to tell her. "I was just traveling through."

  "I see." Her dark eyes fixated on my bandaged shoulder for a moment before turning back to me. "You and your sister, right?"

  "Yes." I perked up, growing eager at the mention of Ali. "Do you know where they're keeping her?" The mocking laugh I got in response wasn't comforting. It was dull and unfelt.

  "In the pits, probably." She sobered and her expression turned sour. "Is she pretty?"

  "Yeah," I answered, wondering why she would ask. She turned slightly to the side and rubbed a hand over her swelling belly, and my eyes grew wide. I swallowed hard, the implications shocking me to silence.

  "They'll use her just like they use the rest of us." Her voice was still flat, and I had to drag my eyes away from her stomach back to her face. There was sadness there and maybe even a little pity.

  All the life went out of me. I fell back in the chair, only wincing slightly at the pain in my shoulder. My mind thought back to what Ali had told me when she'd shot the man that was attacking me.

  Man created the monsters, she had said. These men were monsters, and I understood why she hadn't hesitated to pull the trigger. She had known.

  I rubbed my face with my hands, wishing I could wake up and be back on the road with Ali. I heard the rustle of movement as the girl moved closer to me, sitting in one of the other chairs.

  "My name is Stephanie." She said.

  Through the hands that were covering my face, I mumbled. "Hello, Stephanie."

  One of the younger children waddled over noisily. Spreading my fingers, I saw his bushy brown hair curled in thick locks and he was toting a worn sippy-cup. His round checks puffed out as he smiled at me shyly, then hid his face in Stephanie's lap. His little hands fisted into the material of her loose sweat pants.

  "How?" Stunned, it was the only word I could get out.

  "It's not so bad for the kids, really. Or for Anna and Helen." Stephanie shrugged. "They're both older, and the men never cared if they weren't down in the pits. At least the kids have a safe place to grow up." She ruffled the toddler's hair affectionately, but the sadness never left her.

  "How long have you been here?" I asked, finally letting my hands drop to my knees. I ignored the dull ache it caused.

  "A while." She tried to smile, but the corners of her mouth fell too quickly. Her expression was haunted. Part of me didn't want to pry. I understood she might want to keep her pain private, but another part of me wanted to know what Ali was going to face if we couldn't get out of here. The courage to ask failed me.

  Stephanie spoke. "I'm surprised they let someone as old as you come up here."

  I didn't understand why I kept hearing that. My thumb was picking at a small tear in my jeans while I continued the uncomfortable conversation. "Reed is the one who told me to come up here. Is he in charge?"

  "Yes." She looked down toward her belly, but her eyes were vacant for a moment, making her expression unreadable. When she raised her eyes again, her voice was almost a whisper. "Did you see Mick?"

  I blinked, the question catching me off guard. My mind shot back to the house with the terrible man shouting for Mick. He had been the bigger one that had attacked Ali in the hallway, one of the men she had killed. An indistinguishable sound escaped my throat and my mouth worked, but no words came out. I stared back into Stephanie's expressionless eyes and couldn't speak.

  The toddler at her knees began to fuss, jabbering a string of sounds that Stephanie apparently understood. The melancholy mood didn't lift as she patted him on the back in a reassuring movement. She stood, glancing down the hallway to where Breck was standing.

  "I hope he's dead." She whispered so low I wasn't sure she meant for me to hear. She didn't look back as she led the whining child away.

  I huffed in agitation, struggling to come to terms with what I was up against here. Wondering if I had been too loud, I quickly scanned the room to see if anyone had noticed me, but only saw Breck staring back. His eyes squinted with suspicion, but he stayed put.

  Exhausted from the lack of sleep and feeling emotionally drained, I couldn't make sense of all the thoughts that were racing around in my head. A headache began to form behind my eyes. It was impossible trying to shake the feeling of defeat.

  There were no options. The women on this floor didn't seem to know what to do with me, so I burrowed down in my chair and tried to make myself small. I may have dozed off a few times but I never really got to sleep. My continued string of visitors weren't helpful in getting any type of rest either, but they mostly consisted of kids just staring at me for long moments before moving on to something else.

  I would have guessed it to be about mid-morning when the old, black haired woman made an appearance at the stairwell. She was carrying a tray stacked with plates, and was followed by two men also bearing trays, men I hadn't seen before. I wondered how many people were actually here.

  I watched as they handed the trays off to Anna, Stephanie, and a few of the older children. They quickly disappeared into the room adjacent to Anna's. Mona didn't linger. She gave me a short glance before turning back to the stairwell. Had I caught something in her eyes then? Pity maybe? Whether I had or not, it was gone.

  One of the men that had come up with the trays relieved Breck at his guard post, and Breck disappeared down the stairwell with Mona. He either missed her exchange with me or he didn't care. The new guard was a young man and taller than anyone I'd seen in a long while. He even nodded at me in greeting, causing his shaggy hair to fall into his eyes, but he remained stoically at his post.

  Then everything seemed to change.

  The oppressive mood in the room lightened and the children reacted to him much differently than Breck. A little girl, with fiery red hair not much different from Ali's, came running out of one of the rooms screaming, "Tristan! Tristan!"

  She couldn't have been more than six years old.

  My growing curiosity at this shift in attitude suddenly turned to amazement as I watched her throw her arms around his legs in a tight hug. He playfully tousled her hair, returning her affection. Shocked, I failed to notice Stephanie returning. She was watching me rather than the display when I finally noticed her, and I realized my mouth had been hanging open. My teeth clicked audibly as I snapped my jaw closed.

  She was smiling her sad smile as she held out a plate of food, holding one for herself as well. "May I join you?"

  "Sure." I said, eagerly taking the plate from her. Then I gasped, "Potatoes?"

  "Overrated." She shrugged in the same mannerism that I had noticed earlier this morning. "Old Mona doesn't have much imagination when it comes to cooking, so we get a lot of mashed potatoes and potato soup. It gets us by at least."

  "I haven't had potatoes in years." I said. The potatoes were enough to make me forget about my situation for a while. They were cold, but still tasted wonderful. I finished them quickly, but Stephanie ate much more slowly, only picking at her food.

  There was a small, circle-shaped, white blob left on my plate that I was quite unsure of. I was pushing it around with my fork skeptically when Stephanie snickered.

  "It's just goat cheese." Her smile seemed genuine this time. "Try it. I like it better than the potatoes."

  I stabbed the cylinder of cheese with the bent fork and frowned at it as I brought it up for closer inspection. I tentatively nibbled off a piece of the edge. It was tangy
and delicious. I took my time eating it, taking little nibbles rather than devouring it whole like I had done with the potatoes, and watched the new guard and little girl playing a made-up game.

  Stephanie said, "We have a few goats and a couple sheep here. I can show you later if you like."

  I blinked at that, pulling my gaze away from the guard to look at her. "You can show me?"

  "Well, kinda." She shifted in her seat. "We can see the pen from one of the windows up here. That's as close to the outside as we get."

  "Oh, I see." I said, trying not to sound as dejected as I felt. Judging by her reaction, it showed through. I offered a grin and added, "I'd like to see them."

  She nodded, and a subdued smile returned to her face. In the silence that followed, I once again turned my attention back to the guard. The little girl was being called away by Anna who had a tray of food for her. She turned, skipping back down the hall to disappear into the same room she had come from. It was so odd to see the change of mood.

  Stephanie was watching me, seeing how fascinated I was by the two of them and offered an explanation. "That's Amanda and Tristan. They're cousins. They showed up here about the same time I did, just him and Gwen taking care of her out there. It must have been tough trying to find a safe place with a child so young."

  Her hand was resting protectively on her stomach now. She sighed as she looked over her shoulder at Tristan and waved. He smiled and waved back. She hunched her shoulders in her usual shrug when she turned back to me and spoke with a firmness in her voice that gave more meaning to her otherwise offhand remark.

  "He's one of the good ones."

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  Stephanie grew oddly quiet after her comment and I felt too awkward to try to carry on a conversation. Once we were finished eating, she collected our plates and disappeared into one of the rooms, once again leaving me on my own.

  I watched the different kids shuffling in and out of rooms, some playing, some being led by older children with a purpose. Then a young woman appeared in the hall and I watched her with renewed interest. Her long, black hair trailed down her back and her brown eyes met mine briefly. She was cradling the baby I had heard crying during the night. When she noticed me, she gave me a nervous smile, but quickly went to join Tristan. This had to be Gwen, the woman Stephanie had told me about.

  I shook my head, still not understanding what was going on here. After moving my shoulder a bit to test the injury, I threw the thin blanket over my back. Deciding I wanted to move around some, I stood to stretch my legs. Not sure if I should be wandering around the floor on my own, I made my way to Anna's room and looked in to see her watching over some of the kids while they ate. As soon as she noticed me, she smiled and waved me in.

  "How are you adjusting?" She greeted me. Just like Stephanie, it was a sad smile that seemed pasted on. I walked further into the room and all eyes turned to me. The children watched me with blank looks on their faces, and I smiled down at them before turning to answer Anna.

  "Okay." I wasn't sure what she wanted me to say. I could see by the weariness on her face she wasn't expecting much. I continued, "I was wondering if you might have a room for me, and if there might be anything I could help with?"

  Her eyes glanced down at where my bandages were hidden underneath my shirt before she responded. "Don't you want a few days to heal up?"

  I instinctively rolled my shoulder, feeling a twinge of pain that reflected on my face.

  "It's okay, hon." Her smile was sympathetic. "There'll be plenty you can help with soon enough, I'm sure."

  Leaving me with all those tiny pairs of eyes watching me intently, she walked to her doorway and called out. "Helen!"

  I smiled at the kids and waved as I turned to go, even getting a few smiles back and a couple of waves as they continued their meal. I stopped with Anna at the doorway, waiting to meet Helen and wondering what kind of person she would be.

  "Helen! Helen!" Anna's call was soft, not much louder than a speaking voice. I was wondering if Helen had even heard her when the door across the hall cracked open. Sunken eyes in an old wrinkled face stared out at us. "Helen, this is Joss. He'll be staying with us for a while."

  The door opened wider to reveal a small, shriveled woman. She was ancient. I smiled nervously, not sure what to do under Helen's scrutiny. She was looking me over, from head to toe, and I shifted uneasily. Anna said, "Joss, this is Helen. She's worked here for nearly forty years now."

  "And I imagine I'll die here, too." She grumbled in a voice full of gravel. "Little old to be up here, aren't ya boy? They like to get them started raping and pillaging early."

  "Helen." Anna snapped in a low, warning voice.

  "Bah, Tristan's not a whistle blower, are ya Tristan?" She turned her whole body to face him as if her neck wasn't mobile enough to make her head turn. Tristan gave her a half smile, but his green eyes lit up. His eyes caught my attention and I studied them in those short seconds, but quickly determined they were a duller shade than mine and Ali's. Normal green eyes.

  Helen was still talking, moving on without noticing my hesitance. "See Anna? No need to be so skittish."

  Anna sighed in exasperation. "Joss needs a room. Can you show him to one of the empty ones?"

  The sound of a plate clattering in the room and the children's laughter quickly drew Anna back inside. I heard her mumble as she left us. "Can't leave them alone for one second."

  Helen practically cackled at Anna's quick departure, and that amused me. When I met her gray eyes, I saw them twinkle kindly back at me. "Come on boy. Let's see what we can find for you."

  She turned to lead me down the hall, away from the stairwell. I readjusted the blanket on my shoulders and followed. She limped and hobbled as she went along and made frequent use of the wall to help her with her balance. I kept my pace slow to match hers. When the hallway opened up into the lobby area, she reached out to clasp my hand with her boney fingers. I didn't mind.

  The other side of the hallway was a bit darker, heavy curtains covered up the window at the far end. She gestured towards it, and I helped guide her along until we made it to another wall she could use as a crutch.

  "They don't let us have a lot of room up here." She said in her raspy voice.

  Part of me was surprised they had any freedom at all and another part thought it was cramped. "They don't let you use the whole floor?"

  "No. Too many exits to guard." She replied, and as soon as we started to reach the end of the corridor, I could see a barricade of couches and chairs piled into the hallway that blocked off another wing of the hotel. "They know we're not going to run with all these babies. Only way we're winning our freedom is if we start a coup."

  "A what?" I asked her, not understanding what she was saying.

  Helen just chuckled in response. "That's alright boy. Anna can teach you those things. She was even able to get Reed to fetch her some of her old school books to teach by. She was just an elementary school teacher, but she's real good for the kids. I was an old maid that ran the janitorial crew at night. I got no mind for these kids, and they don't have much use for me. I'm sure if food grows scarce, I'll be one of the first to go. But we've been holding on pretty good. Crops aren't failing yet. All is well, as long as you like potatoes."

  She stopped then to catch her breath and leaned against the wall. I smirked despite myself and said, "I like potatoes."

  She looked at me skeptically for a moment before breaking into a partially toothless grin. "Now, don't go getting smart with me, boy."

  She continued her hobbling pace to the end of the hallway and knocked on the last door before the barricade. "It should be empty, but we never know where Charles runs off to in the middle of the day."

  "Charles?"

  "Some poor kid that got pulled out of a house in Primm a while back. We don't know how he made it so long on his own. Not much younger than you actually, but he doesn't talk much." She knocked one more time, but only waited a few moments before she opene
d the door.

  The room was lit by the open windows and seemed empty. I cautiously walked down the short hallway to the double beds and was relieved to find no one here.

  "Bathroom doesn't work. Only got three of those working up here, but that's enough for us. You can use the one down by the old elevators." She sniffed as she followed me in. "They don't let us have much light up here either. Candles too dangerous. Flashlights too precious.

  "Kids normally don't come down this far on their own. They think that hallway past the barricade is haunted."

  At that, I turned to her, frowning.

  Helen chuckled as she made her way to the only chair in the room and exhaled heavily as she sat. "At least we don't lack for furniture."

  She slumped back in the chair and groaned, sitting with her eyes closed for several minutes. I stepped to the window, looking outside to the parking lot below. There were cars parked in orderly rows close to the front entrance, and beyond that was a makeshift wall of debris. It seemed to circle the whole way around the hotel. I could also see what looked to be rows of leafy crops growing in the medians everywhere.

  "Potatoes?" I asked, turning back to her.

  "Yes, sir!" She exclaimed, seeming to regain some of her energy. She sat up straighter. "They aren't the smartest of men, but they sure knew to keep the gardens as close as possible. Any place with dirt deep enough to grow roots, they planted those little brown bastards."

  I looked out into the distance, past the wall, searching for signs of dead-brains wandering about. The area seemed clear. There were only a few men with guns who looked to be patrolling the perimeter.

  "So, Joss," Helen started, her voice suddenly serious. "What's your take on this place?"

  I scratched my head for a second, trying to make out what she was asking me. I finally turned to her and asked, "With what's up here? The nursery?"

  She shook her head, seeming weary. "With everything here. Is this the place you want to spend the rest of your life?"

  "No." I knew I had answered too quickly, but I didn't even have to think about it before the word slipped out. This was the reaction she was looking for, though, as she grinned and nodded. I was on the verge of an uncomfortable situation, and I opened my mouth to make it worse. I asked, "Why?"