All the walking she did only made her muscles stronger. The mutation increased her strength, now her muscles were lean and toned on top of it. She had never been into fitness, but now life had forced her to be in shape. Her body frame was still very long and thin, but she was very proud of her muscles. Whenever the air was warm enough she made sure to slip her jacket off and vainly admire them.
She huffed it south out of New Orleans and walked down Interstate 23, which would eventually run parallel to the Mississippi River, to the marshes. Jumping over the side rail of the freeway she half slid, half walked down the small embankment. She readjusted her packs and got her rifle ready. As she walked through wet, grassy areas the water beside her rippled. Phoenix spotted the tail of a gator as it sought refuge in the water.
The canoe she had left tied to one of the docks was still sat there, rocking in the natural ripples. She chucked her backpacks in and laid the rifle down beside her. Paddling down the bayou gave her a sense of relaxation. There was nobody out here to bother or tempt her bloodlust when she wasn’t ready to control it.
She slid out of her jacket and brushed off the flakes of grey ash that always accumulated after a few days. The sky always rained ash, but it wasn’t like the dusty ash from a fireplace. Phoenix ran her finger through it and collected the small particles, rubbing them between her finger and thumb. It was wet like a drizzle of rain. Her eyes looked to the sky and all she saw was the constant grey cloud cover, which always seemed to signal rain, but rain never came. Every once in a while the thick mist would swirl as if a jet had flown through it, but nothing was there except the wind.
As she paddled further into the swamp the canoe bottom skimmed over something. As she moved the canoe through the water it made a soft plopping sound and sent ripples echoing out along the sides. The sound and motion always caused shivers to run down her spine. Most of the time the noises were the tiny boat hitting a log, or so she told herself, but she knew that sometimes she was indeed coasting over a gator.
The swamp was eerily silent, but it still held the past memories, like ghosts lingering. Sometimes she swore she saw shadows dart in and out of the trees. Every once in a while she would hear a scream, or the laughter of a child. But that couldn’t be. If there ever was a place to be surrounded by ghost stories it was the swamp.
Pulling her canoe up to a cabin that sat on stilts, she watched her footing as she got out. Gator-infested water surrounded the cabin, apart from a patch of relatively dry ground, which would be covered with water if it happened to rain. When she found this old place she had worked all day to rid the property of dead rodents and snakes. The radiation had also infested the waterways, but she found that just like her, miraculously, some animals survived. One such survivor was sitting perfectly still now on the grass in front of her. Reaching into a bag she pulled out a pack of chicken she wouldn’t dare eat herself, but it made a great gator snack. Phoenix named him George, though she didn’t have a clue if it was a girl or boy and didn’t intend to find out. He never seemed to leave. Though the animal was ten feet long and could easily kill her, she found it comforting that something actually wanted to be around her, even if it was the top predator in the area.
“Hey there, George. This is all I could find for you.” As soon as she ripped the sealed bag with her knife he moved forward. “No, no you just stay there, buster.” Quickly she tossed the entire thing at him and moved back. She didn’t mind creatures if she knew where they were. Having a gator surprise you was not her idea of a good time. Always watching where she stepped here was a quick lesson learned when a water moccasin missed laying its fangs into her boot by no more than an inch. She didn’t see it coiled on a patch of swamp grass, trying in vain to get some sun. That day she was out looking for alligator eggs to eat. It lunged before she could blink. She had heard of people eating rattlesnake, but never of moccasins being consumed, so she let it be and moved on.
She carried her new supplies inside and laid them out on an old braided rug that covered most of the floor. The cabin only had one room apart from a small bathroom. There was one bed and a few chairs that sat around a kitchen table straight out of Leave it to Beaver. She picked this cabin because the propane tank was still full. Tossing a steak she brought with her from the restaurant into a pan, she lit the burner on the tiny gas stove. She had never seen a stove with only two burners. Her mother would never be able to cook like this. Her meals had always included many courses of home cooked goodness. “What I wouldn’t give to sit down with my family and eat fried chicken,” she said as she flipped the meat over. She pictured her little sister texting her friends through the entire meal and her father rambling on about how his boss had pissed him off, again. At the time it was an annoyance, but now she understood all too well the old saying, ‘you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone’.
As the meat cooked, Phoenix spread her new found stash out onto the floor. Just to keep herself occupied through the lonely days and nights, she kept a meticulous inventory. Getting out a small notebook she began to catalog each item. She had managed to pick up four bottles of antibiotics, two vials of Morphine, three stashes of other pain meds and various over the counter drugs to add to her inventory. She smiled when she realized she had managed to get a box of syringes as well. Though she wasn’t a drug user and not medically trained she was smart enough to know that this stuff might be needed. She even managed to get her hands on a general medical book with info on how to treat different wounds and what meds were used for certain ailments. This was also stuff she could bargain with if needed.
Phoenix pulled her steak from the pan and sat at the table to eat. In the quiet of the night the sound of an approaching motor put her on high alert. Quickly she jumped up and turned off any light sources and raised her rifle against her shoulder. Turning the knob to the front door she opened it just enough to get a clear view of who was coming.
A small boat with an outboard motor moved through the swamp water and was headed straight for her cabin. As it got a few feet from the dock the driver cut the engine and paddled the rest of the way. Phoenix stood still and silent in the doorway, her finger resting on the trigger.
The man stepped out and onto the patch of grass. Of course George was still there. She almost snickered when the gator lunged at him. Even in the darkness she could see that he wore a leather jacket and some kind of waffle stomper boots that were not tied all the way up his ankle. When he placed his foot on the first step, Phoenix stepped out. The rifle was pointed right at his chest.
“I think you’re in the wrong place, mister.”
His hair was medium length but tousled. His white t-shirt said MotörHead. He had a wallet anchored to his belt loop by a chain. The dog tags he wore clanged together when he moved. Phoenix was sure that this guy was no military veteran. He held his hands up to show that he wasn’t armed, but she saw the slight bulge of a gun at his hip, and a small knife in his front pocket. “I just came here to talk,” he insisted. His voice was the perfect pitch of baritone. The swamp was no place for a guy who looked like he had just stepped off the stage of his very own concert, but then again Phoenix didn’t look like she belonged living among gators and snakes either.
“How did you know I was out here?” she asked shoving the barrel of the rifle into his chest.
“I followed you. That should be more than obvious,” he replied as if she had no intelligence.
“Get in your boat and move on,” she threatened.
“I came here for your help.”
“Too bad I’m not in a generous mood and I have all the company I want.”
As he took a step closer she fired the rifle just over his shoulder. He ducked and instantly felt around his ear and shoulder. “What the hell was that for?” he yelled. Phoenix wasn’t sure if he was yelling more out of anger or because she had damaged his hearing by firing so close to his ear.
“I asked you nicely to move on. The next shot won’t be a warning. It will hit you directly i
n the head and George over there will have a nice meal,” she motioned to the gator with her head.
He backed away slowly trying to keep an eye on where the gator was. “I have information you need.”
Her lips purred in a chuckle. “Yeah, and what would that be?”
“I know where the land has been kept pristine. I also know where you can get blood.”
The last part caught her attention more than the former. She could see from his glowing eyes that he was the same as her; his eyes glowed like a deer in headlights.
“Can you put the damn gun down so that we can talk?”
Despite the fact that she wanted to keep her privacy she motioned him inside the cabin with the rifle. “Sit,” she said pointing the barrel at a chair that was pulled up to the tiny table. As soon as his ass hit the chair she tossed a rope toward him. “Tie your feet then throw the rest over your shoulder.”
“You’re seriously going to tie me to a chair?” She didn’t answer. “Um, do you think I can get some light so I can see what the hell I’m doing?”
Phoenix turned the lantern on and waited. He wrapped the rope around both boots and secured them to the legs of the chair. As commanded he tossed the extra over his shoulder. “If I wanted to break these ropes I could you know,” he said in a mocking chuckle.
“Yeah, but it will give me that extra second to shoot you.” Phoenix grinned at him wickedly. “Now put your hands behind your back,” she said as she took the rope and laid her rifle against the wall.
Once she was sure that his hands were bound, she grabbed the other chair spinning it around and sitting so that her chest was pressed against the back facing him. Her hand slid down her thigh and Phoenix purposely made the motion sensual to keep his eyes fixed where she wanted them. The movement wasn’t lost on him. His eyes scanned her lean leg wrapped in black denim until her hand pulled her knife out of its sheath. Phoenix twirled it around in her hand with precision. Never once did the blade hit her skin. Her green eyes with tattooed makeup stared him down waiting for him to talk.
As she looked him over, something told her she had known him in a previous life. Finally she asked, “Are you gonna talk or are we just going to sit here and stare at each other all night?”
“Sorry, I didn’t think I would be tied up.” He paused and smiled “Well, under different circumstances this could be quite fun.”
Phoenix didn’t appreciate his humor. “You can start with your name.”
“Adam.” His green eyes stared back at her
Her mind flashed with memories. He looked just like Adam Danzel from The Reapers. She cocked her head and looked closer at him. The hair, eyes, bone structure, all set against a gorgeous face as well as his attire all matched the lead singer of one of her favorite bands; a very hard rock band. Of course he had aged a bit, but it was him. When he sang, his voice could hypnotize her. He could sing very softly or scream like a rock god.
“I take it by the way you’re looking at me right now you know who I am,” he said nonchalantly.
“Let’s not get into the ‘I’m your biggest fan’ speech,” she said rolling her eyes.
“I haven’t been in a band for quite a while. The world changed for everyone.”
“Just get to the point.”
“Like I said, I know where you can get blood.”
“First off, I don’t like the fact that you know I even exist and where I’m living at the moment. What are you some kind of creepy stalker?”
“Hey, you’re the one with me tied to a chair.”
“It’s not like trust is a big thing now days.”
Adam raised his eyebrows at that comment. “I have to agree with that.”
Just the talk of blood had her salivary glands working overtime. She hadn’t taken blood in quite a while and the drain on her energy was apparent. Sure she still had strength for now, but it wouldn’t be long before she would crash again.
“I can see it in your eyes how much you need it right now,” Adam said. “You have dark circles, and the bright green has dimmed quite a bit. I would say it’s been a week or so. I know the pattern very well.” He looked down at his jacket. “Reach in my inside pocket.”
Phoenix stood and leaned over to him, but kept the knife blade at his neck. She pulled out a bag of blood. It had a hospital label with the blood type O Negative printed on it, as well as the date it was drawn and who the phlebotomist was that took it.
She looked at Adam for a second, then took her knife and slit the top off the bag and allowed its contents to slide down her throat, swallowing deeply. Instantly she could feel her energy skyrocket. Whatever happened when her body mutated, blood drinking hit her instantly like injecting a drug straight into her jugular. The taste of iron was one of the best things in the world to her now, which was another reason she enjoyed her steak dinner so much.
“Where did you get this?”
“Untie me and we’ll talk.”
“And what do you want in exchange?” Phoenix pulled the gun and knife from his person. She pulled out the clip and emptied the chamber of the 9mm he carried and tossed everything across the room; however she stayed very much armed as she untied the ropes.
As she loosened the knot around his wrists her fingers accidently rubbed up against his guitar string callused fingertips. This guy had always been one of her ultimate fantasies. It would have been her “Can I meet up with you in a dark alley and just have my way with you”, guy. Adam always oozed sex appeal on stage and in video; just sitting in this run down chair he still did. His hair was styled just by rubbing his fingers through it and causing it to stand on end in places. Both his ears had silver loops in the lobes. He had a slight beard and mustache. Since he would be her version of sex on a stick, Phoenix decided it was best if he untie his own ankles from the chair so she simply sat back down, but that didn’t mean that she didn’t watch him as he did so. Adam straightened a black bandana that he kept tied around one of his ankles and then stood and flipped his chair around to match her own. They both sat with their chests planted to the backs of the vinyl 1950’s era chairs.
“Let’s start this conversation with what you know about me,” he said.
Phoenix rolled her eyes impatiently at his request for an ego stroke. “You’re Adam Danzel from the rock band The Reapers. You started it with your high school buddies. It took you years to get a record deal because heavy metal music had fallen out of favor with radio, which by the way was total shit. Never married. One of the best vocalists of not just this era, but as far back as metal goes.” She chuckled. “I’m not sure what you’re looking for here. I’m sure others have read articles on you just like I have.”
“What do you know about my parents?”
“I heard you were adopted.”
Adam gave a slight nod. “Well that’s not exactly the truth. I was disowned when I didn’t want anything to do with my father’s career ambitions.”
“Which were?”
“Political.”
Phoenix instantly jumped up from her chair. She could feel her anger cause her eyes to glow even brighter. “You were a part of those pricks that lined their pockets and killed off this nation?” Her finger shook as it pointed at him.
“Do I know them personally? Yes. Did I walk away from my family and everything I knew well before any of this happened? Yes.” He looked down and waved his hands across his attire and hair. “Honestly do you think someone like me would be taken on the campaign trail with daddy?”
“Well you have a point there. And I guess the fact that you weren’t shoved into a bunker to ride out the fallout is testimony that they wanted nothing to do with you.”
“I ran away when I was fourteen and lived on the streets. Of course my dad always knew where I was, but as far as the public knew he didn’t have a son named Adam Edelston.”
Now Phoenix was yelling so loud that every creature trying to sleep in the swamp would have heard her. “As in President Edelston? You prick. What the hell are you
trying to pull here?”
“Please, calm down and I will tell you everything.” His eyes pleaded with her, but she didn’t budge.
Phoenix paced for a second then pulled her Glock out of its hip holster and backed herself into the small kitchen area of the one room cabin. She kept the firearm aimed at him like he was Cujo ready to attack, foaming mouth and all.
Adam walked toward her. Her eyes were bulged and filled with rage. She felt like the number one enemy had landed in her lap only to destroy her once and for all, and her gun was pointed right at his forehead.
“You’re not going to shoot me. You need me just as much as I need you.”
For whatever reason she let him take the weapon from her hands. He laid it on the tiny stove beside her so that she could still reach it if she wanted to. His body moved closer to her and she felt the press of his hard muscles against her own as she was pressed against the counter. He took her face in his hands and she wanted more than anything to be kissed by him. That was something her mind couldn’t reconcile. He was the enemy, or at least his father was. Adam didn’t kiss her, but he was close enough if he wanted to. “My father didn’t have anything to do with the TSP. There was a coup d’état. He hadn’t run the country for a very long time, but was their puppet. He would go on television and spread their positive messages about the TSP. He was locked up in a vault under the White House. He knew the dangers of TSP and what the ultimate goal was. If he didn’t do as they said they would have killed him. Despite the security around my family, my mother was able to find a way to send me messages. It’s not easy to watch your father on TV knowing he’s being told what to say and do—probably with a gun pointed at him, just out of view.”
Phoenix felt her lips open a little bit more as he spoke, still wanting that kiss. Blinking a couple times she forced herself to concentrate on what he said. He backed away and placed the Glock back in her hand.
Rise of the Phoenix (The Phoenix Trilogy Book 1) Page 3
