Phoenix Ashes Master

by Anne, Melody

  Drake stepped outside, immediately wanting to head back into the relative warmth of the bunkhouse. The freezing air was enough to take his breath away. He was supposed to be on roundup duty, looking for smaller groups to either take in or shoot dead. His captain didn’t care either way. They preferred to keep the women, kill the men, and brainwash the children. If any of them resisted, or looked sketchy, they were to shoot immediately. They only had so much patience or time. The longer this went on, the more corrupt the forces became.

  “I’m with you today,” Ron said as he joined Drake, climbing inside his rig. Drake had to fight back a curse. He’d been planning on jumping ship. His bag of extra rations and gear was loaded in the back. He hoped Ron hadn’t noticed it. The truck Drake had secured a month ago was about ten miles from the base. The plan was to crash the jeep in the ravine not far from the truck, then get as far away as possible before they expected him back.

  He hoped they’d think he was dead and not look for him or send out an AWOL report to the other soldiers. He knew how to hide, and he knew the routes the local soldiers took. He’d also carry a radio to track when the other units would be doing their rounds. He should be able to make good time across the country, hitting as many survivor camps as he could along the way. He’d been on recon duty long enough to know the signs of gathering people. Luckily, most of the other soldiers hadn’t figured it out yet.

  “I thought we were splitting up the next couple of days to track more of the grid,” Drake said in what he hoped was a bored tone.

  “With all the rebels fighting back, the captain wants us paired until it’s under control.”

  Drake sighed. Maybe the captain had figured out that Drake wanted out and wasn’t taking a chance on him being alone. Several soldiers had gone AWOL in the last year. Most were caught and executed. Drake figured it was better to die for something he believed in than to continue sitting by while innocent lives were taken.

  “We’d better get going, then." Drake decided to go to the south side of town where nobody had been spotted for a while. He’d just have to burn off the afternoon and figure out another plan to successfully get away. They drove around for about an hour when Ron gripped his arm.

  “Do you hear that?”

  “Hear what?” Drake asked.

  A loud shot echoed off one of the buildings and Drake gunned the engine. They turned a corner, finding a group of kids cowering against an old brick shop. Three soldiers stood in front of them, laughing as they pointed their guns at their heads. One of the soldiers fired a round, hitting the sidewalk inches in front of a young girl and sending a spray of concrete shards, toward her body. She screamed, begging him to stop.

  The oldest kid there couldn’t have been more than twelve. Without thinking, Drake pulled up next to the soldiers rig and leapt from the driver’s seat. These were men from his unit.

  They turned in surprise, raising their guns, and then smiled when they saw who it was.

  “Hey, Drake. Did you smell fresh meat?” one of the men asked with a laugh before spitting a wad of chew on the ground. “You’ll have to wait your turn. The blonde is mine.”

  Drake looked at the kids, then felt incredible rage boil up inside when he spotted a small blonde girl, no older than ten, crying as she hid behind a slightly bigger boy who was glaring at the soldiers, though his eyes were filled with fear.

  “I’m sorry, Ron,” Drake said before he lifted his gun and started shooting at the men who were supposed to be his comrades. There was no way he was going to stand by while they abused children. He might as well shoot himself in the head if that were to happen.

  Ron looked at him in shock before raising his gun. Drake never had a chance to know if he was going to help him or shoot him, because a bullet slammed into Ron’s chest. His partner crumpled to the ground as Drake turned and shot the last two soldiers between the brows. He felt no remorse for the men who were eager and willing to harm children. Ron was already gone. There was nothing he could do for his old roommate and partner. He turned to the kids who were huddled together and he counted them. It looked like there were eight of them. They were unsure what this new development meant. They didn’t trust him, but knew they couldn’t outrun a bullet.

  “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. Do you live near here?”

  They just gazed back at him, not willing to give him the information that would get the rest of their camp killed.

  “I know you have no reason to trust me, but I’m not on their side. I was forced into this war, and I refuse to stand by any longer. I have supplies in my truck, food and clothes. I need to change and move on from here. I can give you some food, but do you have a safe place to go?”

  He kept his tone gentle as he talked, while also pushing his gun toward the ground, trying to seem as non-threatening as possible.

  After several seconds, the tallest boy took a step forward. The small blonde girl whimpered and grabbed hold of his sleeve.

  “We do have a camp. I . . . I can’t take you there. Thank you for saving us, but . . .” His words trailed off as if he were afraid of releasing Drake’s wrath.

  “I understand. The shooting might bring more soldiers, and if you’re here when they come, they’ll kill you. You have to get away from here. Do you need a ride, food, anything?”

  “No. We’re fine,” the boy said before he picked up a small girl and turned to leave. The group moved with him, all of them touching as they hurried down the sidewalk. Several of them kept glancing back to see if he was following. To offer more reassurance, he went back to his vehicle, skirting around Ron and going straight to the back.

  Set the scene, he thought to himself as he got to work. Taking a long knife from his pants, he cut a huge gash in his coat, then with a queasy stomach dipped his hand in Ron’s pooling blood and smeared it over the fabric. He ripped the collar as if someone had grabbed him, then smeared more blood. He threw the coat down next to his friend.

  Next, he stripped down to his long underwear and put on a pair of jeans, a couple of layers of shirts, and the jacket he’d found in their supply room. He looked like any other escapee, except a lot cleaner. He’d have to do something about that. The thought of purposely dirtying himself up didn’t appeal to him.

  He stuffed his military clothes, minus the coat, into a bag and threw it in the back of the jeep, then made sure his radio was on. He only had minutes to get away. If another unit came around and saw the dead soldiers with him the only one standing, they wouldn’t hesitate to shoot.

  He pulled onto the street as he heard conversation over the radio.

  “Anybody else hear shooting? I think it came from the mall area, maybe near Smith Street.”

  “Negative. I haven’t heard anything, but I’m not too far from there. I can meet you.”

  “I heard something. We’re about six blocks away. Rapid gunfire. We were too far to hear much else.”

  “Come in easy. We don’t know if it’s our guys or not.”

  “Copy that. ETA is two minutes. We’re coming up Bain Street now.”

  “Copy. We’re cruising on Denver Boulevard.”

  “We’re on Centennial, so we should be able to box them in.”

  Drake swore as he made a sharp right and then a quick left. He was grateful for the damn radio or Team Echo would’ve just rolled into him. He drove down an alley, knowing there was another alley at the end. If he turned down that way and waited for the other vehicles to pass, he could make a clean getaway.

  He listened for the motor of Team Echo, which slid past the alley about five seconds after he got into place. Close — way too close. Sweat beaded on his brow as he counted to fifty. If he took off too soon, they’d hear the roar of his engine. If he waited too long, they might be out searching for the shooters. He just hoped the kids got back underground fast, because the men were going to be pissed and seeking revenge on the first person they found.

  “What the hell! Bravo, Kilo, g
et here, now!”

  Team Echo had made it to the scene.

  “What’s happening?”

  “We’ve got men down. I repeat, men down. Team Tango is gone. Damn! Dink’s here too. He’s dead. What’s this? I’ve got a jacket, looks cut up, blood on it. Who was with Dink today?”

  Sweat dripped in Drake’s eye as he pulled farther from the scene. Ten miles out, he reached the ravine where he'd hidden the truck and jumped from the jeep. It was far enough away that the soldiers weren’t going to hear a thing, but he was still anxious. He wouldn’t feel at ease until he got out of the city. He grabbed his bags and radio and transferred them to the small truck before pushing the jeep over the cliff.

  It fell to the bottom without much noise, landing in the small pond at the bottom. The entire jeep didn’t submerge. The water must be really low. Oh, well, he didn’t have time to think about it.

  He jumped into the truck and took off, taking a route he’d planned a thousand times in his head. He should be far from the city before suspicions turned his way.

  “Stephenson was with Ron today. Is there any sign of him?”

  “No, he’s gone — rig’s missing too.”

  There was silence after that. The men had either figured out he’d betrayed them, or the other guys had arrived and they didn’t need to speak over the radio anymore. He’d never find out as the radios only had a twenty-mile range. He’d be able to pick up other platoons, but his own unit would be far out of range.

  A brief smile fluttered across his lips as he put more distance between the unit and himself. Freedom. He was finally free — never having to do their bidding again. If they ever caught up to him, he’d shoot himself in the head, not giving them a chance to kill him first. He’d been with these monsters long enough, and there was no way he’d be their prisoner.

  The freedom he felt as miles trailed behind him was better than anything he’d felt in too many years to count. He wanted to find others, and fight on the good side now. He wanted salvation for what he’d stood by and allowed for too long.

  He sent up a silent prayer as the road stretched out in front of him.

  Chapter Sixteen

  *** Elise ***

  Elise finally moved the two girls from her lap and slowly reached up to push open the board. She hadn’t heard anything in a while — the soldiers had to be long gone. As terrified as she was, they must get moving. If she stayed any longer, her window of opportunity to leave would close.

  She pushed the board up and peeked out. The house was pitch-black and she strained her eyes to see. She could hear a scratching noise coming from somewhere in the kitchen and forced back the bile at the thought of rodents scurrying over the floor, thankful there weren't any in the crawl space.

  After listening for several minutes, she deemed it safe enough to bring the kids out. She took a deep breath of courage before pulling herself back down to gather her children.

  “Remember what we’ve talked about. I’m going to help you climb out of here and then we’re getting as far from this house as we can. I know of a place several miles away we can go to, but we have to be careful. No speaking, crying, coughing, anything. I promise you it will get better,” Elise told them, feeling horrible for what she was putting them through.

  “Will we get dinner there, Mom?”

  Her heart ached for her child. What kind of mother didn’t feed her hungry children? She vowed she’d make everything right. There had to be groups out there, had to be survivors banding together. She’d find them, no matter what it took.

  Elise led the children from their hiding place, then made sure their packs were secure, before she tiptoed to the busted open front door. The night was dark, only a quarter moon to light their way. That was a good thing, making it far harder for the soldiers to spot them if they happened to be out on patrol.

  Testing the straps of her bags one more time to make sure they were strong and secure gave her an extra moment before stepping out those doors. The bags felt as if they weighed a hundred pounds as they hung from her shoulders, and she was exhausted — so tired of being on the run. A hot bath and warm dinner sounded like heaven, but it did her no good to dwell on what she didn’t have, so she firmed her shoulders, said a silent prayer that her legs and back would hold up, then stepped from the house, leading the kids to a new refuge.

  It was going to be a miserable few hours, but she knew of a neighborhood that seemed as if it would be semi-safe. It was the kind of place where the people most likely had some sort of food stored. If they could gain access to food and shelter for a few days, she could start searching for a camp of survivors.

  All of Elise’s concentration focused on one step at a time. Gabe was in the back, with Mikey, Cathy, and Cheryl between them. The children were so used to being silent outdoors that it wasn't a surprise how incredible they were doing, but Elise was both proud and heartbroken at the same time. She wished they could giggle and play outside like she used to do when she was young. She didn’t hear any sounds but that of their gentle breathing as they wearily followed her into the shadows of the dark night.

  A slight breeze stirred her hair, reminding her of the cold months she still had to face. It was a bitter alarm, reminding her that if she didn’t find shelter for her children, they wouldn’t survive. A myriad of thoughts rushed through her mind and the self-berating began. She shouldn’t have given up on hunting so quickly. If only she’d learned how to survive in the woods, her kids would be in a warm bed instead of creeping through the night, praying they weren’t captured. She should’ve tried harder. The thought played in her mind every single day.

  Guilt ate away at her stomach — pains of an ulcer apparent — but had she not come down from the mountains, she wouldn’t have found Mikey and Cheryl. They would’ve surely died or been captured had she not been there to save them. She’d grown to love the two kids very much in only a few months. Everything happened for a reason, and she held fast to the thought that she was meant to be where she was.

  Time seemed to stand still as they traveled farther and farther from the slums of the city. Elise’s confidence grew as they moved from shadow to shadow with no danger in sight. She stopped cringing each time the children stepped on loose gravel or took a deeper breath.

  She wasn’t being careless, just not as frightened the closer they came to the gated community on the outskirts of the city. She’d once wanted to live in a place like that: gated communities with neighborhood watch programs in effect and all the neighbors knowing one another. She’d even pointed out block parties as an appeal to her husband, who’d laughed.

  He’d always told her he was a mountain man. Their compromise had been to settle far enough outside of the city that he had privacy, but close enough that she didn’t have far to drive to town. She’d ended up falling in love with her home and the acres that offered privacy and romantic walks with her husband.

  She’d been too afraid to return to the house where her husband had been killed. If her husband were still lying on that porch, even if nothing but bones, it would’ve destroyed her. Now, she thought she was a fool.

  On the back of the property, hidden in a room underneath the shed, was at least a year’s worth of survival supplies for a family of four. She could stretch the supplies further if she knew how to hunt. She decided right then that she’d go home. Even if they’d burnt down her house, the storage was still there, protected. They most likely didn’t go up there on regular patrols. She could get the camping equipment and stay in the woods, keeping her kids safer. It was smarter than trying to take them to some camp that she wasn’t sure existed.

  It was time to go home. Her sorrow lifted at the thought and she knew she was making the right choice. Without transportation, it would take them a few days to get there, but if they slept during the day and moved swiftly at night, they could do it. Maybe she’d even get lucky and find a couple bikes for the kids, or a wagon, something to make the journey a bit more be
arable. If she couldn’t find something in the neighborhood she was going to, she wouldn’t find those types of items anywhere.

  If she had the chance, could she risk taking a car? The risk of getting captured increased with driving, but she’d noticed that in the last few months the soldiers hadn’t been patrolling at night. It just might work.

  Elise was jolted from her thoughts when she heard a person cough. Her body froze as she turned around and looked at her children, holding up her hand to make sure they were silent. Who was out there?

  Elise looked wildly around her for a place to hide. They were on the sidewalk of a street, with nowhere to go. They couldn’t break glass — that would draw someone’s attention for sure. The cough had come from the side street they’d just passed. If they ran, they could get away — that was her only choice.

  She’d have to keep the kids going, staying quiet, but running. She hoped whoever had coughed was in a drunken stupor and wouldn’t step onto the main road.

  Grabbing Cheryl into her arms, she took Mikey’s hand, having Gabe and Cathy grip each other. She pushed the two older kids in front of her and prodded them to run, then she followed, feeling as if they were moving in slow motion.

  If whoever had made that coughing noise came out, she and the kids were dead — she knew it. She urged them to run faster, but they had small legs, were seriously undernourished, and couldn’t go much faster than a slow jog.

  This had been a bad idea — a very bad idea. It was going to cost the kids’ lives. She never should’ve left that mountain. It would’ve been better for them to die there of starvation than to be tortured and killed by the soldiers.

  Emotions clogged Elise’s throat when she heard voices behind her. She wouldn’t go down without a fight, even though she knew it was already over.