The Phoenix Project

by M. R. Pritchard

  The caravan pulls away and heads north on Main Street. I watch out the window at the Residents. Some are working in yards, sweeping streets, fixing streetlamps, gardening. Everyone is busy working in their assigned faction. Some smile and wave to each other, only one person stops to watch the caravan drive by. Some of them should be off their medications by now and learning how to live in a new society. A group of school children stand at a corner, waiting for their school bus, they wear dark blue uniforms and play games with their hands, chattering at each other. As we drive I realize that Phoenix has turned back into the town I remember as a child, where it was safe to venture out alone, neighbors were neighborly, parents didn’t have to worry about their children’s safety, the homes were neat, and people took pride in their work.

  I wonder if maybe the Phoenix District isn’t such a bad place to be confined to. Maybe it would even be safer here, than in the outside world, if it weren’t for Crane.

  Once the caravan passes the bridge separating the District, it splits up. Our driver pulls onto a side street, making odd turns, sometimes driving in a complete circle. Every few moments I catch another black SUV on a nearby side street, doing similar maneuvers. As the driver continues we get closer to the edge of town, but instead of heading to the north roads he pulls to the eastern roads.

  “What are you doing?” I ask the Volker curiously.

  “Evasive maneuvers ma’am. Morris wants to make sure we aren’t followed. There will be similar spectacles at all the exits.”

  “This is silly,” Lina giggles as she rolls around on the bench seat, responding to the sharp turns taken by the Volker.

  Once the cement wall slides open two vehicles come up beside us, our driver speeds up and they play a game of cat and mouse, swerving between each other, slowing down, speeding up. Then one vehicle stops and drives back to town. This crazy dance we just witnessed was a ploy to distract and confuse anyone who may be following us.

  The Volker takes a long, convoluted route along back roads, dirt roads, roads covered in fallen trees, and the fifteen minute drive to the northern part of the District has turned into a forty-five minute drive. Finally we drive up to a heavily wooded area and the Volker starts pulling off the road. It looks like he’s going to drive directly into the trees but then I see a small pebbled driveway, barely the width of the vehicle. Tree branches scrape across the side of the SUV, reaching high into the sky, shading the driveway. As I watch ahead of us I see that we are coming up behind another black SUV. We follow the other vehicle until it slows and stops and we can hear the dry scraping of stone and squeal of heavy metal. We start moving again. Looking out the window I see we are driving past a large stone wall covered in dense brush.

  Just as I was hoping we would get outside the District walls, I find that we have just been moved to live within another set of them.

  We drive past more thick forest before entering a bright clearing.

  “Look, Mom.” Lina points out the window.

  There are large pastures with cows, horses, alpacas and goats on one side of the driveway. We look out the other window and see large fields with freshly planted seedlings. Three large dogs run beside the SUV’s, their heads reaching as high as the vehicle’s windows. Chickens and geese swerve out of the road as the rubber tires of the SUV crunch down the stone driveway. Finally we come to a cluster of buildings and the SUV’s stop. A Volker opens our door and waits for us to get out. We topple out in awe, looking at the spectacle before us.

  “Welcome to the Pasture,” the Volker greets us, shaking our hands. “My name is Elvis. I’ll be staying here with you all.”

  On a normal day, almost two years ago, I would have joked with this man about his name. I would have made references to Elvis not really being dead. But today, after all I’ve been through, I can’t even muster the energy to smirk when he tells us his name.

  Behind him I see the three large dogs, the size of horses, walking up to inspect us. It’s a breed I’ve never seen before. They look like mythological creatures, much larger than Great Dane’s, with thick long hair rolled into dreadlocks. I grab Stevie’s collar as she jumps out of the SUV, afraid that they might attack her.

  “It’s ok. They’re familiar with your dog’s scent, yours too, actually, everyone who has just arrived.” I apprehensively release Stevie to see her bound at the dogs. They sniff each other in circles and bark playfully. Stevie runs back to us with the large dogs following her. “Meet the Guardians.” Elvis holds his hand out and all three of the dogs sit as he pets their massive heads. “There’s more all over the farm, we have about twenty of them right now. Think of them as your protectors.”

  I watch the large animals as they sit, looking not at us, but around us, behind us, inspecting the yard, the pastures, the fields. It’s no wonder they are called guardians.

  --

  The buildings are a mixture of barns, garages and houses, all built in a circle with open grass in the middle, littered with yard toys, picnic tables and a small inflatable pool. The buildings look old, but functional, with large sturdy front porches, complete with rocking chairs.

  “What is this place?” I ask Elvis.

  “It’s always been here. Hidden in the forest. We were able to salvage most of the buildings with minimal work. You know how that old carpentry is, it could survive hundreds of years.” His voice has a heavy Australian accent.

  Elvis walks us to one of the houses. They are all white, with the simple construction of era’s ago, and when we step up onto the porch the old wood doesn’t even creak under the pressure of our footsteps. We follow him inside and I am surprised that the interior is simple and clean with hardwood floors and milky white walls. We wander around, inspecting the kitchen and bedrooms, the living room, it’s when we get to the office space I stop in disappointment. Of all that I was trying to escape in the District, it is clear my work will not be finished any time soon. Sitting in the middle of the office is my large wooden desk and computer from the lab.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  Again, our lives have changed. The grounds of the Pasture are beautiful, an outpouring of nature at its finest, and for the first time in over a year, Lina and I are able to explore as we please. Ms. Black sets up a classroom in one of the small houses. Elvis helps her break down a wall, creating a large open space for the children to learn. We salvage tables and chairs from the barns and sheds then sand them down and repaint them.

  Sometimes it’s hard for me to do much with the cast on my arm. When the work gets too hard for my broken arm and ribs to handle, I leave to explore the grounds or rearrange our new house. Once again workers from the District packed up our things and moved them. But this time they only sent the necessities, simple clothes, a few personal items. Thankfully they brought Lina’s beloved stuffed owl.

  The Funding Entities, whoever they are, have stripped us of any luxuries. They want the children to grow and learn in a simplified manner, without fancy clothes or expensive toys. They hope that it will help the children focus on human interaction and develop a new understanding of life, where we are self-sufficient, and the little things are what matter most. To Lina this will mean no fancy birthday parties and rooms filled with presents on the holidays. But I think she will adjust fine. Especially after walking into one of the houses and finding it filled floor to ceiling with books and hearing Lina exclaim that it was “the best house ever.”

  Elvis is the sole Volker on the property. He seems at ease here, already tanned and rugged, a true outdoorsman, running the farm, working with the Guardians and Stevie. More than once he has brought a deer or other game back in the afternoon, then cleaned it and cooked it for dinner. On nice evenings we collect around the picnic tables, eating dinner together, as one big happy family.

  Well, everyone else is happy. I do my best to smile and interact. Trying not to let them see what Crane did to me. I cover up the bruises and cuts with makeup, scarves, long sleeve and pants, most of the time I'm boiling in the sun. T
hankfully the woods and fields I walk during the day are much cooler, from the nearby lake breeze.

  Now I have nothing left to do but wait. Wait for my wounds to heal, for Ian to wake up, for Adam to return from outside the gates and find us. I hope he will find us. And then we wait for the next generation to be born.

  One day, while Lina is in class, I walk through the open field behind the circle of houses and I get the sense that I am being followed. There is the soft hush of footsteps on the dried field grass, stopping each time I stop. The first time I turn around I see nothing, just the empty field and houses off in the distance. The second time I turn, I make sure to continue walking, and as I walk backwards I see the large Guardians following me, silently, stopping when I stop, hiding in conspicuous spots, behind a small bush, crouching in the tall grass. There are even more at the forest edge, stopping behind trees, but their eyes are always watching. They follow me to the tall water tower at the far edge of the property. I stop at the bottom and look up, there’s a ladder and an enclosed walking platform circling the highest part of the water tower. I reach out and grasp the warm, metal ladder, shaking it a few times. It doesn’t give, it doesn’t even wiggle. I want to climb it badly, to see how far I can see, to see if the view reaches beyond the fence or further. I lift my broken arm and try to wrap my fingers around one of the rungs but a sharp pain shoots up the broken arm, forcing me to let go immediately. Bringing my arm back to my chest, I squeeze my shoulder hoping that the pain will stop.

  A few of the Guardians walk closer to me, closer than they have ever been. I could reach out and touch them, but their large size still frightens me. I look at their eyes to see what they are looking at. Instead of looking behind me or to the sides as they usually do, they all look up, straight into the sky. I follow their gaze but all I see is the light blue afternoon sky, there is not even a cloud present. One of the Guardian’s bark, which I have never heard before, it’s loud and deep, reminding me more of a lion roar than a dog barking. More of the dogs start exiting the woods. Then there’s another bark off in the distance, where the houses are. Some come to where I am standing near the ladder and the others gallop back to the circle of houses, where Ms. Black and the children are. I look around the property and back to the sky but see nothing.

  Then, ever so faintly I hear a deep rumble far off in the distance. A t first I think it is thunder, that there is a storm coming. But it gets louder and faster, reminding me of a jet passing overhead. There are more of the same sounds, but at different distances, further away and some closer, like a hundred jet engines are flying over us and around us. But as I watch the sky I see nothing.

  Suddenly the sky is no longer rumbling, but the ground is. First it’s mild, and I think I’m experiencing a bout of dizziness, but the ground shakes harder and deeper. And I know what I am feeling, because it wasn’t that long ago when I experienced the same sensation in another life, in my old life, at the hospital.

  Earthquakes.

  But now I know that these are not earthquakes. I know what they truly are, I’ve seen their damage. They broke my town, my family, my body. Those are missiles flying through the sky.

  EPILOGUE

  Adam

  The train whistle is loud, monotonous, lasting entirely too long. I hate that it’s programmed to go off every twenty minutes. It keeps waking me up, interrupting my thoughts. Not only is the noise preposterous, but the single bench is uncomfortable. It’s unpadded, raw metal, too hard to sit on let alone sleep on. There’s absolutely nothing to do in the dark metallic cabin of this train. I almost wish it was a coal engine so I could pass the time shoveling coal in to the burners. Instead I sit here, staring out the window.

  There isn't much else to do on these long rides south to collect supplies and rendezvous with the Funding Entities. It’s no wonder Remington turned to booze and women when he was out running for the District. And night is even worse. Mostly I wind up laying on the uncomfortable bench or the floor, thinking, tossing and turning. The metal chain wrapped around my bicep doesn’t help matters, most of the time it itches and cuts into the skin. I keep touching the locket, afraid that I might feel the potassium dose dripping out of it, which would truly be the end of my mission, because if Crane wanted me dead, getting back through those gates would be one of the hardest tasks of my life.

  He must be using pure electrical energy straight from the nuclear power plant to electrify the fence. I didn’t tell Andie, but that recruits body was so charred it was almost nonexistent. At first we thought it was a burned tree. I’ve never seen anything like it in my life, it hums louder than any electric fence I’ve ever heard, so loud that there isn’t an animal or a bug within a mile of it and the plants actually look like they are stretching away, trying to grow back into the forest.

  The train brings me through downstate New York, to Pennsylvania, and beyond, all the way to North Carolina, so I can collect our supplies. So far it has been stocked with rice and oats, canned foods, fresh vegetables, everything on the District list I was given before leaving. All I have left to do is leave the packet for delivery to the Funding Entities. This time the designated drop zone is a post office in Raleigh, North Carolina, which is perfect because my government contact can meet me there. Crane provided me with a map and a thick pre-sealed package, addressed to a mail box in Sweden. I’ve tried to open the packages, but they’re expertly sealed, with some kind of a metallic lining and wires in the glue which seals the flap. I have no idea what’s inside and nothing left to go on besides their weight, thickness and address for delivery.

  I stand and watch the stars in the dark night sky, knowing I have to get back fast. I can’t believe Crane found them, hiding on the train. I thought for sure I was a dead man. But Andie saved me from Crane’s wrath. I just worry about what he did to her and Lina.

  I keep trying to bring my thoughts somewhere else, to focus on the job at hand, but I can’t. I can’t deny the fact that I’ve screwed up royally. Broken the basic rules of training, what was pounded into my head from day one. You don't get involved. You don't have relations, especially not with married women, especially not with the one Crane wants for himself. And you don't cross Crane, ever.

  Barely anyone in the U.S. knows him but he’s globally renowned as one of the world’s richest men, making his trillions in genetic research, and getting involved in controversial experiments. First it started with stem cells and his research progressed from animals to humans. He kept his work away from U.N. sanctions by purchasing his own island, constructing his own buildings for the experiments, employing his own people, swearing them to secrecy. He made the transition from researching to cure illnesses to much darker topics, and this is why the strongest countries left him alone, because they fear him. He has a lot of dirt on a lot of powerful people.

  Celebrities and royalty started soliciting him to select how they wanted their children to look and behave. It made him billions of dollars richer. He was the world’s best kept secret. And once he had them all in his pocket, kings, queens, presidents, dictators, even our own president, they cleared the way for him to go further. He started in Japan and now here in the U.S., in Phoenix of all places, my hometown. Genetic engineering. Selective population control. Selective breeding. He tells them he is working towards a better society. For mankind. To preserve our earth which we know is already in ruins from the burning of fossil fuels, mining, and overpopulation.

  The President of the United States came to the director of the marines, asking for help. He wants to know who is helping Crane, the "Funding Entities." And it’s not that President Berkley seems worried about what Crane is doing, he just wants to know who else is involved. They came to me after the Middle East. They thought I was the perfect choice, being that my entire family was wiped out in that car accident. And then there’s my training and the expertise in intelligence.

  What I wasn’t prepared for was Andie. She doesn't know how bad Crane actually is. She has no clue what he has done, or what
he is capable of. He could have anyone in the entire world but for some reason he is drawn to her, probably for the same reasons I am and that her husband is. But she is in danger. I brought her into this situation and now I have to help her get out of it. I can't let her know how dangerous Crane really is or what is really going on. She’s too stubborn. She would be the one to confront him, demanding answers and blowing my cover. She’s an irresistible mixture of brains, tenacity, and awkwardness and it’s driving me crazy, I can't stop thinking about her. And I'm not sure how it happened, because she’s not my type at all, but there’s just something about her. She makes it so hard to focus whenever we are in the same room. She clouds my mind, makes things fuzzy, she always has. Even on that first day, when she confronted those gang members and bartered for our lives with a box of baby formula, all without even knowing who I was.

  When Crane made me Sovereign I didn't know if I could continue the mission. Being in the committee room, with her across the table from me, I could barely function. Just watching her, with those penetrating green eyes, I thought for sure I would lose it. Each time I told myself to stop, to stay away, I know we both did, for months, all through the holiday season. Then I found myself getting closer. When she came to me that night, after Ian's baby was delivered, I couldn’t resist her, I couldn’t ignore her one second longer. Now, after telling her that this was all planned, that my mission was to find her and bring her back, to walk her straight into her own living hell, I’m pretty sure I may have lost her for good and I know the only reason she didn’t slap me and run off on her own was because I was holding Lina. I know there’s only one thing I can do to win her back, to make her forgive me. I have to find her brother, Sam, and bring him back to her. I can’t let Crane take any more from her.