Rise of the Phoenix (The Phoenix Trilogy Book 1) (2 page)

Hearing voices she ducked into a narrow alley and crouched behind a rusted out dumpster. Phoenix peered around the side as the alley opening became blocked with five people. She pressed herself against the brick wall holding in the remains of a French Quarter home. “Shit,” she whispered to herself.

“Why can’t there be any hot chicks around?” one of the men said.

“What the hell do you call, me?”

Phoenix ventured another look and watched a black woman, with a head of hair that stood straight up three inches off the top of her head, knock the man in the shoulder.

“Baby girl, everyone in this gang has had that.” He smacked her ample rump.

“Fuck you, asshole.” The woman stalked off, the four men followed her laughing.

A rat crawled out of a hole in the side of the dumpster and scampered away. “You too, huh? Nobody likes the gangs.” Phoenix watched the rodent until it ducked into a pile of old crates. She drew in a deep breath and looked out one more time, tightly gripping the firearm she carried at her side. She stealthily moved toward the mouth of the alley. Her military-grade boots were silent against the dust, dirt, and gravel that covered the ground. Pulling her gun from the holster she pointed it down, safety off. Allowing herself to lean out just enough to look down the street, she watched as the gang members continued to walk away, kicking trash, and firing their guns at abandoned cars as they went. The pops rang out and echoed through the area. “I guess you guys don’t care about remaining hidden.”

When the gang was a couple blocks away Phoenix ran in the opposite direction down the street, looking over her shoulder from time to time to make sure they hadn’t seen her. Turning the corner she stopped and tried to relax, but that wasn’t possible; two men were headed in her direction. Just like most of the people she saw in the city they were vamps. Just like her, their glowing eyes gave them away. The mutation caused the vamps eyes to glow neon green. No matter the color your eyes were prior; they now glowed like a nuclear beacon.

“Hey, lookey what we got,” one of them said pointing at her.

Taking a quick look around, Phoenix dashed diagonally across the street. The faster she ran the closer the men’s footfalls could be heard behind her. Turning down a street to her left she ran for the first door she saw. Just her luck, the knob wouldn’t turn. She could hear the running steps of the men coming closer as she rammed her shoulder against the door. The frame cracked and the door gave way causing her to fall into someone’s home. She quickly pushed the door closed and jumped to her feet. She could hear the men as they shouted in the street. Leaning her back against the wooden door, she could feel her semi-automatic rifle dig into her back. She moved it to the front, but kept her body firmly pressed against the door. Phoenix closed her eyes, making sure they would not give her away in the darkness of the house. Her ears pricked; she could hear them right outside the door. She stood with her gun at the preparing to be pushed down when they barged in.

“Where did that bitch go?”

“Marcus is gonna want to know we have company on our turf.”

Phoenix heard the sound of a hand wiping at the glass window beside her. She kept her eyes closed and quietly shifted to the side a bit. A lump had formed in her throat and she swallowed against it as beads of sweat dripped down her face. These “gangs” were not anything to mess with, especially for a person wandering on their own.

“I don’t see nothin in there.”

“Check all the doors, man.”

The handle jiggled, but the door remained locked. It jiggled again, and a body hit the door right behind her back. Phoenix jumped, but was able to hold in the squeal that threatened to escape her lungs.

“Something’s wrong with this door, man. She’s gotta be in here.”

“Fuck,” she mouthed. Backing away from the door she opened her eyes and brought her handgun up, and aimed.

The handle jiggled again and then the door flew open. “There she is!”

With her gun held steady, Phoenix waited for them to approach. As they ran toward her she flipped her handgun around gripping it by the barrel as she simultaneously slid the rifle unto her back. The first one to reach her got the full force of the grip slammed into his skull; he dropped like a slain deer. The second grabbed hold of her left arm leaving her free to holster her handgun and grab her knife from its sheath. His fist made contact with her cheek causing pain to sear down her neck and through her eye. Bringing his arm up in a block, he caused her to miss and the knife plunged, cutting his ear clean off. He screamed and grabbed for the bleeding hole on the side of his head. His grip on her arm became tighter as his pain became more pronounced. Phoenix brought the knife up again and this time pushed it into his jugular. Blood sprayed out like a water hose turned full-on. He fell face first onto the floor and she turned him over with her boot. “Silent as a mouse,” she said with a grin.

Just to ensure the other vamp was disposed of she jabbed the knife into his neck as well. He didn’t move or make a sound. She wiped the blade on his shirt and slid it back into its sheath.

Looking around the house she noticed a slumped over figure sitting on the couch. Approaching carefully she knelt down for a closer look. The clothes covering the corpse were among the variety purchased at Sears by elderly men. The skin covering the skeleton was like a mummy. “You got your own hot box here, won’t be long before you crumble. Sorry about your luck.” She sighed and very carefully laid him out on the couch crossing his arms. On the table beside him was a framed picture. She picked up a nearby towel and wiped the dust away uncovering a beautiful woman in a Jazz Age style wedding dress. Her hair was done in the traditional curls of that time and she held a large bouquet of roses.. Phoenix took the man’s hands placing the frame between them.

She left him in peace and walked through the rest of the house. In the kitchen she opened the cabinets in search of what little edible food might be left. Surrounding the canned food were hundreds of mice. They had devoured the boxes of cereal, noodles and flour leaving only bits of packaging. The critters were piled so deep inside the cupboard that they looked as if they were one big moving mass of grey. “Well I guess there is no food to be had here.” She blew out a breath, causing her lips to ripple.

As she left the kitchen she spotted a carved wooden sign and ran her fingers over the letters. “Love Abides Here” A chill ran down her spine and her mind flashed to her own family.

“Tracey,” she heard her mother call.

“Coming!”

“You’re going to be late for school, get a move on.”

She bounded down the stairs missing every other one. As she grabbed a piece of toast she threw her backpack over one shoulder. “You ready, Sophie?”

“Yep.” Her little sister stuffed her books into her bag.

“You girls be home right after school,” her mother cautioned.

As Tracey pulled open the front door, which often stuck in the frame, the sign above it rattled. Her father had made it for her mother last year. It took him a week to carve the words “Love Abides Here” into the cherry wood and stain it. The little message always threatened to fall with every opening and closing of the door.

High school was always the same. In history class Tracey sat at her desk by the window, and beat her pen back and forth end to end against the wood top. Her head rested on her up-raised arm, her hand cupping her chin.

The repetitive beat of her pen stopped and her hands gripped her desk as it began to shake. Her history book fell to the floor with a clap, half opened.

The classroom filled with murmurs of worry.

“Students, stay calm,” Mrs. Avery said as she stepped out into the hall.

Tracey heard rapid footsteps coming toward the room, and then they paused. “Get your students out of the building. There’s an earthquake.”

Mrs. Avery clapped her hands. “Students, stand and form rows between your desks.” Tracey didn’t think that rushing people out of the building was the correct thing to do, but what did she know? This was small town Missouri, not Los Angeles.

As they did so the teacher instructed them to follow her row by row out of the room. She led them out the nearest door, which emptied onto the athletic fields.

As more and more students filed out of the building Tracey scanned the crowd for her little sister, who was two years behind her in school. Her attention was suddenly diverted by the large mushroom cloud of fire growing over the tops of trees. Tracey’s mouth fell open and panic filled her. The baseball fields, football field, and track filled with screams.

“Sophie!” Tracey screamed trying to run and find her. Mrs. Avery caught her arm.

“Student’s get inside, now!”

The mass of students that had filed out in organized formation was now running for the nearest door, fighting for position to get back inside.

“Sophie! Sophie!” Tracey continued to scream as she was shoved and pushed.

Like a wave slamming into her, she was knocked inside and instructed to lie down and cover her head.

Standing tall and fighting off the wave of emotions that were threating to bring her to tears, Phoenix looked at the sign one more time then turned her back on it.

She walked out of the house checking up and down the street for any sign of gang members. When she trusted it was clear she continued on her mission.

As she walked she looked at the abandoned cars with the former owners still sitting in the seats or lying outside the door, their skulls resting against the pavement. Some were still clinging to their steering wheel with their boney fingers. Some skulls had their mouths agape as if they were screaming when they died. She was thankful at least the stench was gone. This was the only sign of human life she saw in cities. Gangs of vamps needing blood hunted them like packs of wolves. Their only choice was to flee to more rural places.

As the breeze blew a crumpled piece of paper past her, she wished she had seen this city filled with tourists. Phoenix would rather have walked the streets during Mardi Gras, collecting beads and drinking until she couldn’t walk. Now all that was left was the reminder of what this city used to be. The buildings all looked the same. The TSP did not directly launch here, but it had been contaminated nonetheless. The bomb had gone off near Baton Rouge. This city that once had a vibrant heartbeat now lay lifeless and in ruins.

Her stomach rumbled from not eating for the last forty-eight hours. Sticking to the shadows, she kept her gun at the ready as she made her way to Bourbon Street. As she entered the first abandoned restaurant she hoped she could still find some good food. Utilities had remained running in many buildings because the gangs went around and turned the generators back on. These days, there just wasn’t anybody to send you a shut off notice, or they just didn’t care. Just as in a severe storm some power lines were down and still live; the same could be said for natural gas. In some places pipes burst, in others they remained intact.

The building was dark, damp and cold. Not knowing when the electricity had gone out, she crossed her fingers that the food in the freezer would still be cold and edible. One thing about the gangs is they know how to pool their resources and make things work for them. What was once a restaurant could now be a home or storage facility for food. You would think there would be armed gunmen, but actually the gangs were surprisingly smarter than that and didn’t make their stashes a target. The buildings would look completely abandoned. The only clue was the pulse of their power; it rang out like a church choir. If you were lucky, you got past a sniper or another gang had wiped out the former owner. Phoenix didn’t know which she would encounter today. It just might be a very active gang who would love to take her life.

She tried the door lock, but it didn’t budge. “Definitely Marcus and his merry band of idiots.” She pulled her knife out and slid it between the double doors. She turned the knife and caught the mechanism to release the lock. “Damn girl! You got skills,” she quipped sliding the knife back into its sheath. Phoenix pushed both doors open and walked in with her arms spread out.

She felt along the wall for a switch. Up and down, up and down it clicked, but no light. “Well, damn.” There was just enough light to see the large objects in the restaurant. On either side of the front door were lines of booths. Ahead of her was a long bar. As she walked her boots crunched against glass. “Typical,” she said as she felt her way to the back of the restaurant. The further she walked into the kitchen the darker it got. “Damn vamps and their staging of vandalism.”

The restaurant was quiet with the exception of pulsing fans powering the refrigeration units. “Yes,” she said pumping her fist. “Thank you, thank you, thugs of Louisiana.”

Inside the kitchen she may as well have been walking through a windowless house. Several times she bumped into kitchen equipment which caused her to swear under her breath knowing her hips would probably be bruised and wondering what alarms she was setting off with all the noise she was making. She ran into a metal table and it screeched across the floor, but not before several metal pots came crashing down. “Why couldn’t I get the speed and vision vamps had in movies?” She paused to let her eyes adjust a little more. The green glow gave her the tiniest hint of light.

Finding the freezer she noticed the little blue flame coming from the gas-burning stove. She turned one of the knobs and heard the click, click of the ignition. The blue flame spread to the entire burner and provided enough light for her to see a glass windowed door in the far corner. Reaching for the doorknob, she turned it, but it was locked. Phoenix slid her semi-automatic rifle off her back and used the butt to smash the glass from the door. She had already made enough noise, why not make some more? Before she reached in to turn the knob, she removed her black leather jacket and used it to cover her hand so that she could reach around and remove any shards that may be sticking up like spikes. The last thing she needed was a deep cut. The mutation had given her more strength than she had ever had, but that did nothing to prevent injuries. She would heal quickly, but it wasn’t worth the trouble. As she slid her jacket back over her black tank top she smiled looking at the shadowed muscle tone in her arms. “At least I got something cool from this damn mutation,” she said proudly.