The Phoenix Project: Book I: Flight

by Katherine Macdonald

  “You won't use it,” Adam says, but his eyes flicker with doubt. He’s seen me kill before. “You never did much care for the violence.”

  I snatch it up and cock it. “You don't know what I'll do to keep my family safe.”

  At this, he laughs. “No one's safe out here, Eve.”

  “And you think you are?”

  “Yes,” he says firmly, “I think I am.”

  He's wrong. Of course he's wrong. And I will shoot him. I have to. But... but as I look into his cold, unresponsive eyes, all I see is a mirror. How easily could our situations have been reversed, if he had escaped, and I had not? Someone will mourn him. He's sure to have his own Ben.

  I can't kill him. I can't have him follow me, either.

  Bang.

  Adam howls in pain, clutching his shin. Blood pools around him. He won't die. He won't have any permanent damage. But he won't be getting up, either.

  I toss the gun to the ground, out of reach. The weight of the shot vibrates against my hand.

  I need to run. Out in the corridor, two guards are hurtling towards me. I race towards the fire escape, turning the corner after bolting through the door and waiting until they've ran several paces ahead. They barely realise what's happening before one of them is sailing down several flights and the other is knocked out cold. I don't stop to see the damage; I can't. I can hear others moving up the stairs.

  I race back into the corridor, heading for the exit on the other side. The elevator dings open. More guards.

  I'm running out of options. I could break down one of the doors to the rooms? They're solid, but I could manage it with a few well-placed kicks. What then? The windows are thick. I'd need something incredibly heavy to break through them...

  Before I can come up with an option, a nearby door clicks open. I don't see another pathway. I rush inside, preparing to grab whoever is on the other side and stop them from screaming, but the room is dark and the door seemingly closes itself. No, not by itself. My eyes adjust quickly.

  “Nick?”

  He holds his fingers up to his lips. The guards hurtle past. He waits a few moments until he's sure they're gone.

  “What are you still doing here?” I screech. “They've got footage of us entering together! They'll know that you–”

  “I'm working it out–”

  “How did you get in here?”

  “I stole a keycard from a staff member.”

  “You stole–”

  “Don't worry about it!”

  He goes towards the window. There's a small panel that opens right at the top, presumably just for ventilation. He points. “Can you get through that?”

  “Yes, but–”

  Nick climbs up onto the nearby desk, opening up the window with his card. Electronic windows? Really?

  “Our room is exactly two stories above here. Can you climb it?”

  “Probably–”

  He leaps down. “I'm going to go ahead and open it at our end.”

  “The cameras!”

  “Harris has temporarily disabled them.”

  Disabled. Not looped. I suppose there's no point trying to be secretive now.

  Nick turns to go.

  “Nick!”

  “What?”

  “Why... why didn't you leave?”

  Nick swallows. “Even if I wasn't falling for you, I could never have just left you here.”

  The door opens, a sliver of light cuts into the room, and he is gone.

  Chapter 24

  I get up on the desk, take off my shoes, and toss them out of the window, praying that no cameras catch a random pair of shoes falling from the sky, or that Harris has disabled everything on this side of the street. There's no way I can climb a building in them, but if anyone sees just the shoes, they'll know I'm still in the building.

  Even if I wasn't falling for you...

  I have to trust that Nick knows what he's doing, even though it feels completely wrong to be climbing up the hotel rather than down it. It is no easy feat; most of the building is completely glass. I am clinging on the merest hint of window-ledge, balancing like a hot knife in butter. Thankfully, the window above me soon opens and Nick drops down a bedsheet for me to clamber up.

  I fall into the room. Nick leaves the window open, and we wordlessly put the bed back together.

  He can't really be falling for me, can he? He hardly knows me. Then again, despite what he said... he took one hell of a risk staying behind. What other reason could he have to be so reckless?

  There's a knock on the door.

  “That's sooner than expected,” Nick says. “You'll need to–”

  “On it.”

  I'm already slithering back out of the window, which Nick closes behind me. I hold onto the thin ledge for dear life, glad that the mask of night will make me less visible to the human eye. Nick yells, “I'm coming!” as he slides the key card into the hem of one of the curtains. He grabs an open bottle of champagne from the table and splashes it over himself, then wrenches the door open.

  Two security guards stand behind it.

  “Oh,” drawls Nick, “you're not room service. Where's dinner? After that complete fiasco at the broadcast party, a complimentary meal is the least we should be getting!”

  The guards do not sound impressed by this. “Sir, cameras show that you entered the hotel with a guest tonight. Do you have any idea where she is now?”

  “Beats me.” Nick takes a swig of the champagne. “Little tart ran off before she could do what she was employed for.”

  “I see. And where did you, um, employ the young woman, sir?”

  “Met her on the way here. Didn't stop to exchange much in the way of pleasantries, if you get my meaning.”

  “Quite. Am I to understand then, that the woman in question approached you?”

  “Yes... look... you don't think she had anything to do with this, do you?”

  “We are looking into all unaccounted guests, sir.”

  “Well, if that's the case, do you mind waiting until morning? I have a terrible headache coming on.” He takes another long, hard slug.

  The guard clearly decides he's not going to get much more out of him tonight and mumbles a half-hearted thanks. He tells him not to check out early and closes the door. Nick grabs the hidden card, races to the window, and hauls me back into the warmth.

  “I thought they'd check the room,” he rushes. “I never would have made you hang out here otherwise–”

  “They should have checked the room,” I say. “I guess you're just a very convincing liar.”

  “One of my secret talents.”

  He tosses the key card out of the window, and pulls it shut. It locks automatically after it.

  “Hopefully somebody finds that and thinks you're in the wind,” he says. “We should be safe for the night.”

  “And then?”

  “We'll work it out.”

  Before I can think of anything else to say, a voice buzzes in both our ears. “Ashe? Nick? Are you all right?” It's Harris, although I can hear Scarlet in the background, asking the same questions.

  “We're safe,” Nick assures them, “but we're going to have to stay put for now.”

  “Understood. We'll speak tomorrow.”

  “We'll meet you back at the garage in the morning.”

  “See you both then, and... well done. The video is already online. It's going viral.”

  The line goes blank, and Nick removes his earpiece. I do the same with mine, placing it on the desk beside his.

  Well done. This doesn't feel like a success. It feels like a failure. All that work to get me here, and I messed things up in a way Scarlet never could have. She wouldn't have been recognised by Adam. She wouldn't have put her family's safety at risk. I don't care about Abi's stupid calculations; I failed, and who knows what the consequences of that failure will be?

  Stillness and silence settles on the room, and I realise what has just transpired. The Institute is working with the gove
rnment. Adam was here. Adam knows where I am. He might even still be in the building–

  Nick takes my hands and guides me towards the bed. “What happened?” he asks, his voice as soft as water. “Who did you have to fight?”

  His fingers trail along the bruises on my arms.

  “Adam,” I whisper, “Adam was here.”

  “Who's–”

  “The second,” I rush. “He was the second, and I was the first, and ever since we were children they used to make us compete against one another. He knew me. He... he wanted to take me back–” I am trembling, trembling and breathless and... oh no, are those tears?

  Nick clings to my hands.

  “Ashe, no one is going to make you go back.”

  “I can't go back there! I won't!”

  “And I won't let them take you.” Now Nick sounds just as desperate as I feel, and his voice breaks the sobs I'm holding back. I shatter into his arms, tears pouring out of me with the same ferocity of the blood from Adam's leg.

  Nick reaches up, and starts pulling the pins from my hair. “That day when I bandaged your hands,” he tells me, “I wanted to tell you that you didn't always have to be brave. That I understand you don't want to worry your family, but you don't have to be all strong and stoic for me. You don't need to put on a face for me.”

  He inches me back, and reaches into his blazer pocket for a handkerchief. He starts wiping my cheeks, and at first I think he's just dabbing at my tears, but then I see the swathes of make-up against the cotton. He's taking it off, rubbing away the disguise. Making me more me.

  “You'll need to take your contacts out,” he advises.

  I nod. He goes to get something to put them in, and offers me a long shirt from his suitcase. “You probably won't want to sleep in the dress.”

  “I want to burn it.”

  Nick chuckles. “We'll do it together once we're free of this place, but for now, let's just try and get some sleep.”

  It doesn't feel like I can ever sleep. Adam is still out there, the Director is still out there. I am still lying in the jaws of my enemy. But I shred my trappings anyway, crawl into Nick's shirt, and then into his arms.

  In the end, there is no need to fight over who gets the bed. We fall back against the pillows together, and I fall asleep with my head pressed against his chest.

  Chapter 25

  The night after Mi's accident, none of us slept well. Ben gave way first, being so little, and Abi not long after him. Gabe was turned on his side, pretending to be asleep, while the tears trembled silently down his cheeks. I could feel what I could not see.

  I crept out of my own bunk, tucking the covers around Ben, and crawled into Gabe’s. I put my arms around him and leaned into his back.

  “He'll be OK,” I whispered.

  Gabe's voice was little more than a ghost's. “And if he isn't?”

  “I won't let them do anything to him. We won't let them do anything to him.”

  “Oh Eve,” Gabe cried, “you don't know what they're really like!”

  I didn't know what he meant by that, but this didn't seem to be the moment to contradict him. “I know what we're like,” I insisted, my fingers curling into his nightclothes. “I know we're stronger when we're together.”

  “But not unstoppable.”

  My hand reached round and pressed against his heart. “Unstoppable,” I whispered, “together.”

  I did not know then, how soon his heart would cease, how quickly we'd be torn apart. All I knew was that when we were together in the quiet and the dark, when the noise of everything else had shuffled away, I felt invincible. I felt akin to safe. We were conquerors, although of what I never found out.

  In and out of consciousness I flutter, no longer entangled in Nick's arms. I watch him sleep, soundlessly and peacefully, untroubled by dreams of old ghosts I both long for and despise. I haven't spent a great deal of my nights on this world alone; I am used to watching others slumber. I haven't passed many of the past eight years without checking in on Ben while he slept. I always found it calming.

  Watching Nick is different. There is a new kind of warmth I feel in watching him, a new kind of longing. I want to reach out, to touch that smooth cheek, to run my fingers over his features. I want him to do the same to me.

  It is difficult to sleep. The inches between us are like miles. Do I want to move closer, or scuttle away to safety? Are his arms a trap or a lifeboat?

  I want to cling to him like I cling to my memories of Gabe. I want to hold him close, to stop him slipping away, but I feel all the powerlessness of a kite in a storm, untethered and lost at sea. It's a little like drowning.

  ◆◆◆

  Nick gets up early in the morning, thinking me still asleep. He dresses quickly and slips out into the hall. Exhaustion still stirs in every corner of my body, but I know sleep will evade me now. Old memories, faded scars and pressing dread rattle around my mind. I shut my eyes, but the thoughts roar like the wind.

  When Nick returns, he’s sourced another pair of shoes from somewhere, some dark glasses, and a long coat. There’s the smell of freshly baked bread. He shakes me gently. I pretend to just be rousing.

  “I got you breakfast,” he says. “Wake up.”

  He presses a hot roll into my hand, filled with butter and jam. It should be as fantastic as the food we inhaled yesterday, but it tastes like paste in my mouth. It is a struggle to swallow.

  “You’re going to walk straight out the front,” he tells me. “I’ve checked security; it’s pretty light. I think they’ve assumed you’ve left the building.”

  “And you?”

  “I’ve got to get the car. Harris is waiting for you at the old rendezvous. We’ll meet back at the garage.”

  I nod, then slither out of the bed, grabbing the dress from yesterday and heading to the bathroom. I remove the chalky residue from my face and dab it with some of the complementary creams, hoping it will hide the dark circles under my eyes. It doesn’t. I tidy myself up as best I can, pull on my old clothes, and head back into the bedroom. Nick hands me my new disguise.

  “I’ll be right behind you.”

  I nod. It seems silly, as well as foolish, but I wish we were walking out together, and not because I don’t like the thought of leaving him behind. I just don’t want to be alone myself. This isn’t like me. This is weak. Nick told me I didn’t have to be brave in front of him, but I must, because the alternative is not being brave at all.

  The corridors are grave-like this morning, despite how long it’s been light now. There are very few people in the foyer, and even with the glasses and the coat, I feel exposed. Guards still hover around, although they look tired and preoccupied. I keep expecting them to pounce at any moment. The walk towards the doors feels like an age.

  The sun strikes my skin like a pane of glass. I stand stunned for a split second, utterly baffled to be free of that place. My heart skips and sinks in the same beat. I am not out of the woods yet. I pick up the pace and head for the alley where I know the others are waiting.

  I tap on the side of the van door. It slides open and I crawl inside. Harris turns in his chair, grinning at me wearily. Jameson nods from the driver’s seat. Scarlet looks like she wants to hug me, but thinks the better of it.

  “Morning, supergirl. You all right?” Her cheer is forced.

  I nod my head.

  “Nick?”

  “He’s fine.” Better than me. “He shouldn’t have stayed.”

  “’Course he was going to stay. He likes you, and he's, y'know, Nick. Big hero complex. Besides, if he didn’t, you’d probably be dead… or running wild in Luca, which is as good as.”

  Maybe that’s what I deserve.

  “We managed to get a message to Mi last night,” Scarlet continues. “Just to let them know the operation was successful, and that you were more or less safe. He made it quite clear he’d be very upset if something happened to you.”

  I can’t think of anything to say to this, because som
etimes, sometimes, I really don’t like knowing how cut up they’d be if something happened to me. It’s just one more thing I have to be responsible for.

  The van jerks, and we start to pull away.

  “I still couldn't have done it,” Scarlet tells me. “Harris must've ran those numbers a hundred times. I could never have gotten in and out in that time. So if you're feeling bad about that–”

  “It's not that,” I say shortly. “I just... I'm tired. I'd like to get out of here.”

  “Of course.”

  I can tell she doesn't fully believe me, but she doesn't press it. We drive on in silence. It seems to take an age for Nick to join us once we reach the garage, but he eventually glides in, muttering something about giving a final interview and an address for where he picked me up.

  “It's an area well-known for its ladies of the night, badly patrolled and practically off the grid. They'll hopefully deduce I was nothing to do with it.”

  I feel uneasy still, and while everyone sets about packing and unpacking equipment, I sit on a bunk sipping lukewarm tea. Nobody speaks to me or asks me to help out. I wouldn't know what to do anyway.

  “Ashe, we're ready to go now.”

  I close my eyes for the journey home, and half-sleep. Someone –Nick, I think– drapes a blanket around me. I don't even open my eyes when we pass through the border. I don't know how we've gotten away with it.

  There's nothing I want more than to go straight home, but of course we have to go back to HQ first to be debriefed. I don't give much of a thought as to what that means. Finally, we arrive at the hangar, and I'm met with the sound of several voices, all speaking very loudly at once.

  “Ashe! Ashe, where are you?”

  Mi's face rises out of the others, Abi and Ben beside him.

  “She's there!”

  “Ashe!”

  I barely have time to open my arms before Ben launches into them, and Mi and Abi sprint over to join us. They murmur something about how scared they all were and it's all I can do to stop myself from sobbing once more. There's no way I can put them through this again.