Phoenix (38 page)

Sam instructed Tracey to make sure Brad’s
group had everything they needed. Support, transportation,
supplies, training, and backup when necessary. They were to provide
all this without question, as Brad and his group were "federal"
agents and had a very special mission. Sam went on to say that
their mission was not to be questioned and the Fort’s cooperation
would be repaid handsomely.

"Perhaps you should move them in with you,"
Sam continued. "They’re not safe here, and travel back and forth
will become dangerous for you as well. Move them in. They are only
three. Give them a house and everything they might need. Do you
understand, Mister Tracey?"

"Yes, sir."

Sam’s smile gleamed. "You’re a good man. Your
country will not forget this. Put Jeff back on, please." He handed
the radio to Rakburn, dusted his hands, and wagged his eyebrows. To
Mort he said, "And that’s how it’s done." He leaned forward. "Don’t
fuck this up."

Mort was speechless, so he gave a shaky nod
of his head.

Sam smiled again and relaxed. Rakburn said
his goodbyes to Jeff and placed the radio back on the tabletop.
Brad noticed a slight quiver to the old man’s hand.

"Now." Sam rested his arms on the table and
laced his fingers. "At some point we’ll need to bring in an agent
to finish your training. I’m thinking—" he glanced at Rakburn.
"—Briggs?"

"Briggs, sir?"

"Mhm. Briggs."

"To polish off their training."

"Mhm."

Rakburn caught Brad out of the corner of his
eye. "As you wish, sir."

"Excuse me." Adams stepped closer to the
table. "Quick question."

Brad groaned. Mort’s arm moved to block
Adams, but he shoved it away. Izzy shifted over next to Brad.

"Yes?" Sam’s tone was that of a teacher who’d
had to explain something five times already.

"Actually, I don’t have a question." Adams
leaned over the table. "It’s really just a comment. You’re doing an
awful lot of ordering around without asking us what
we
want.
Did you ask us if we wanted to go live in the what, Fort? We don’t
even know what that is." Adams paused. Sam didn’t answer. "No, you
didn’t. And this training. You didn’t ask if we wanted it. Do we?"
He turned and talked to the whole room, but no one answered him.
"And everything you’ve said since sitting your ass down in
our
kitchen pales, it freaking
pales
, in comparison
to what you just did to that man on the radio.
Who
the hell
are
you?"

"That’s enough." Mort reached out and grabbed
Adams’ arm, yanking it hard and spinning the younger man around.
Mort jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "Now." He kept his thumb
pointed at the counter behind him until Adams relented and went
back to leaning against it. Mort turned back around in his seat and
spoke to Sam. "I’m sorry. This is just a lot for us to take in.
Especially all at once."

Sam stared at Adams and ignored Mort. "Would
you ask a convicted criminal how long a sentence he’d like to have?
Would you ask a murderer on death row if he’d like silk sheets on
his bed?"

The color drained from Adams’ cheeks.
"No."

"I thought not. You, sir, are as guilty as
the rest," he jerked his chin, indicating the group in general,
"for the abomination that now walks the earth. Have you or have you
not been brought up to speed?"

"Yes."

"Do you understand the conditions of your
sentence?"

"Yes," Adams croaked.

"Because that’s what this is." Sam stood.
"You serve your
sentence
or you
die
. It really is
that simple. Now, is that clear enough? Or shall I decide your fate
myself? Right here, right now."

Adams dropped his head. "Yes and no."

Sam hesitated. "Yes and no? Which part
confuses you?"

Brad stood and faced Sam. "We
understand."

Sam looked the man up and down, then nodded.
"Can we move on then?"

"Yes," Brad and Adams answered.

Sam motioned for Brad to sit and took a seat.
"Very well. Mort, your book, if you please." He held out a hand
toward the older man.

Mort hesitated. He looked down at the book he
clutched in his hands, ran his fingers over it, then passed it
over. Sam took it and flipped through the pages.

"Hmm, yes. Ah, very good." Sam mumbled as he
leafed. "Oh, I know her. Nasty temper." His finger scrolled down
the names, page by page. Granted, the book wasn’t full, but it did
hold the names and information of several Psi scattered across the
country. Sam snapped the book shut. "This’ll be very useful. Thank
you."

"What will you do with them?" Mort asked.

"Hmm? Oh. They will be given the same choice
as you."

Mort whispered, "I see."

"Well." Sam sighed and scooted back from the
table. "I believe that’s it." He stood and straightened his jacket.
He leered at Izzy and said, "You have fifteen minutes to gather
your things." To Brad he said, "Until Phoenix has been perfected
and released, you’ll prepare. Agent Briggs will be sent to you
shortly before you will be needed. Until then, we’ll be in touch."
He touched two fingers to his forehead, saluted, and headed off
toward the front door.

Rakburn bowed his head to the group, again
catching Brad’s eye, and followed.

They waited until the door shut and the two
Suits were outside before complaining to one another about
everything that had just happened, and embracing a tearful Izzy.
Brad tried again to talk her out of leaving, but she refused.

"He’s the only family I have left."

"
We’re
your family, Izzy." His arms
were wrapped around her tiny frame and he squeezed. "You have to
stay."

She shook her head. "I can’t. He needs me.
They need me. We have to do whatever it takes to make up for what
we’ve done. And besides, it’s not like I’ll never see you again.
I’ll only be in Columbus."

"Yeah." Brad kissed the top of her head and
let go. "The way he talked, we’ll be in contact pretty often. It’ll
be fine."

"Yeah, it’ll be fine." Izzy smiled and left
for her room.

Twenty minutes later, Brad stood in the
upstairs bedroom of the abandoned house next door. He stood at the
window watching a shambling crowd of corpses reach toward the sky.
He noticed only a few of the faster ones intermingled. This gave
him hope that maybe those corpses were still small in number. Adams
was perched on top of the barrier, watching the helicopter as it
hovered a few feet above the outstretched arms. Brad could see
Izzy’s face in the window and the absurd looking headset she was
wearing. She waved and both he and Adams waved back.

After making sure he had all the dead’s
attention, the pilot moved off toward the trees. He also made sure
to fly slow enough to keep them following. Brad watched the
helicopter grow smaller and smaller until it was barely a dot in
the darkening sky. The zombies disappeared as well, into the woods.
He closed his eyes and hung his head.

Mort joined him by the window. "We’ll see her
again."

"I hope so."

"I
know
so."

Brad chuckled.

Mort patted his back. "Come on. We got some
packing to do, apparently. That Jeff fella just called a minute
ago. Said there were some trucks coming for us."

Brad sighed.

"I know, I know. Not like we have a choice.
And it might not be so bad, really. From what Rakburn told us, the
place sounds pretty nice."

Brad peered at Mort.

"I know, I know." Mort started for the door.
"Let’s get a move on."

"Yes, sir, Agent Kinney."

"That’s not funny, boy."

"Yeah, it is."

"No, it’s not. Jonah is going to kill
me."

"Jonah might be dead."

The pair stomped down the stairs and left
through the backdoor, headed for their house.

"Dead or not," Mort said. "He’s going to kill
me when he finds out."

"You seem pretty confident you’ll see him
again."

Mort shrugged and smiled. Brad held their
front door open for him.

"Ladies first."

"Dick."

* * *

The helicopter was high in the sky, nearing
Columbus.

"What will I be doing?" Izzy asked. "What’s
my job?"

"You’ll be joining our seers," Sam answered.
Their voices were tinny and muffled in the headsets.

Izzy felt her grandfather’s hand jerk in hers
and squeeze.

"But, sir," Rakburn said. Izzy noticed the
change in his voice, even with the headset. "The seers are at
Headquarters."

Sam leveled his eyes on Rakburn. "I
know."

Rakburn’s grip was hurting her hand now.
"Then I am not to stay at the Columbus CC? Have you decided to
promote Agent Briggs after all?"

Sam laughed. "Are you kidding me?" He shook
his head. "That monkey? No, no, you’re heading up Columbus. It’s on
you to keep it operating efficiently."

Rakburn’s hand went limp. Izzy stared at him,
afraid to look away, hoping she had misunderstood. Finally Rakburn
regained his composure and sniffed.

"Yes, sir."

Brad stood in the watch tower, staring into
the sunrise. Something was happening east of there, across the
river in West Virginia. He closed his eyes and brought up his
radar, extending outward as far as he could, again trying to scan
the area where the event had caught his attention some two days
prior. He knew it wouldn’t work; it was too great a distance to dig
through that much dead interference. His face creased with
concentration. His closed eyelids blinked a quick rhythm. His
knuckles whitened and his nails dug into his palms. Finally his
breath escaped in a hiss.

Nothing but dancing blips.

"Yo, Brad."

He rolled his shoulders and took a moment to
calm his mind before turning to greet Mort. "Yeah?"

"Breakfast is ready…what’s wrong?"

Brad smiled and dusted his hands off on his
pant legs. "Not a thing."

"Can’t lie to me, boy."

"I think…I think the West Virginia CC has
been neutralized." Brad flared his nostrils and looked away.

Mort nodded, his eyes straying to the east.
Ever since the meeting between them and Sam the Board member, Brad
had been dreaming. Not the night-terrors of before, but still vivid
enough to wake him up every night. After several weeks of the boy
going around like he was walking on egg shells, Mort had pressed
him harder.

Brad was convinced someone was going to
interfere with a Command Center and Operation Phoenix, and that
someone was going to be Kasey. Brad wasn’t sure which CC, but he
argued that she would have two to choose from: Ohio’s and West
Virginia’s. He took it even further and said, "Hell, with a head
like hers, she’d go into Pennsylvania, Maryland, Virginia, or
Kentucky just to fuck shit up."

Mort had downplayed it as paranoia and
reminded Brad that he was
always
worried about her, how she
was doing, and this was no different. Mort also reminded him of her
chances and that she was probably dead. Brad hadn’t appreciated
that. Then Adams had gotten drawn in. When asked directly, he’d
confirmed that Kasey would be involved in the sabotage of the West
Virginia CC.

Mort tried to keep Adams from hearing his
arguments with Brad. That only worked for so long.

"Don’t push yourself so hard." Before Mort
could remind Brad that breakfast was waiting, a scuffle on the road
leading to the front entrance of the Fort caught his attention.
"There they go again."

"Yeah," Brad mumbled.

Mort joined Brad at the far corner of the
tower, and together they watched a group of not-quite-humans
surround and attack a smaller group of zombies. This had been
happening for a couple of weeks now. They’d been horrified at
first, even though they knew this would be coming. Rakburn and Sam
had said it would happen. This was Phoenix, the thing the group had
promised to help protect.

These new things were alive and well, not
dead, not zombies. Yet they killed more ferociously, more
systematically. And their minds?

Mort couldn’t even bring himself to reach out
and read them anymore. He had done it at first, of course he had.
They were new and he’d been curious. The first time he’d seen one,
he had brought up a mental snapshot of it in his head. Mort hadn’t
even gotten the pen out of his shirt pocket before a flash of light
exploded behind his eyelids. He stayed in a comatose state for
three days.

These new things were more alive than any
human Mort had ever read. More alive, extremely more feral, and
disturbingly simple.

"We’re going to have to handle this," Brad
said, his eyes straying again to the east. They had sworn to
protect Phoenix, sworn to make up for what they’d done. If the West
Virginia CC had been attacked, he and the others would have to deal
with the aggressors and get the CC back up and running.

"I know. I’ve been working with Adams on it
while we wait for word from higher up. We’ll find out what actually
happened and figure something out. Just…don’t jump to conclusions,
okay? What we felt the other night might have nothing to do with
the CC. The last we heard, most were functioning at a hundred
percent and there haven’t been any problems reported for
weeks."

"How did we feel it?"

"What?" Mort asked.

"The other night, that bolt of something that
woke us up. How did we feel that? None of the three of us work that
way. Hell, whatever it was didn’t even trip my danger radar."

Mort shrugged. "Well, I’m assuming PhoenTek
put a whammy on us. Like a smoke detector or an alarm system. We’re
watchdogs. So when someone starts messing around the house, we hear
it and bark.
Assuming
the thing that woke us up has
anything
to do with your CC dream."