Rise the Phoenix

by Ely Page

  Frank walked and walked. Sometimes his mind was clear, and other times he was in such a daze he couldn’t tell if it was day or night or if he was walking or crawling. The war in his head was getting so painful that he blacked out most of the time. When he had moments of clarity, he was somewhere he didn’t recognize with no idea how he got there or how to get out.

  All the sudden it stopped. He had a completely clear head, as if all that went on had never happened. Frank didn’t know where he was, but he started walking in the opposite direction that he was facing.

  “Frank!” said a voice from behind him, appearing out of nowhere.

  Frank didn’t like the sound of his name. He knew who had said it, and he wished that the speaker would just go back to where he came from. Frank kept walking.

  “You, a mere mortal cannot ignore me; you must acknowledge my presence!”

  Frank stopped and turned around. “The only thing I must do is follow my Lord and savior. You can go back to Hell and leave me alone!” Frank was blunt; he didn’t care what Satan would do to him, he just wanted this to end.

  “This will be my world, Frank, and when it is, I will make you the example of human incompetence and ignorance.”

  Frank looked up at the eight-foot-tall beast in front of him. “Are you threatening me?”

  Satan leaned down to look Frank in the eye. “I make no threat. I will break you, you just don’t know how.” Satan stayed in front of Frank. “I know you need to go home, Frank. You may not feel it yet, but you are dying.”

  Frank couldn’t believe what he was hearing, but Satan was being straightforward.

  “I wish I could take the credit, but death is in you and it has nothing to do with me.” Satan grinned a little bit. “This trip back to your precious people is what will ultimately kill you, and I will be with you till the end to make sure that it happens.”

  Frank didn’t know how long he had been away from home, but something inside of him, maybe God, told him it was time to return. A battle was near, and Frank needed to go home before it started. He was needed to help any way he could. He could not avoid leading Satan there anymore.

  “It’s been what, twenty-five some odd days since he left? I don’t think he is coming back. I think he is off doing something else, but I don’t think he is dead. He’s a survivor,” Ollie was talking to Dylan. It had been a long time since the two of them had spoken, and the first time since Frank disappeared.

  “I think he will back, and I think it will be soon,” Dylan said honestly.

  “Hi guys,” Porter and Jenny said as they came up to Ollie and Dylan near the town park.

  “Hi,” Ollie and Dylan said at the same time.

  “We have some big news to tell you, and since you were both with our tribe, we wanted to tell you first,” Jenny said.

  Dylan and Ollie both had the same cautious, curious look.

  “I’m pregnant!” Jenny said excitedly.

  Ollie went in for a hug. “Congratulations!”

  Dylan and Porter shook hands. Dylan didn’t know what to think at first, but then he quickly realized it was great news for the town and for the human race.

  Frank could see the grain elevator just over the horizon. He had grown so weak that he couldn’t walk anymore. He was traveling at a slow crawl, and every movement of his arms and legs caused excruciating pain. Satan was walking over him, teasing him with delusions of water and food. Satan spoke very little, and when he did, it was to merely mock the bad condition Frank was in. Satan had then vanished, but something happened to Frank at the same time. He had a feeling that it was Satan in his body now, and that was how he was rapidly getting closer to death—it was something Satan was doing to Frank from the inside.

  “We have movement two thousand yards out and closing, slowly!” Ben screamed from atop the crow’s nest.

  Hank was at the bottom of the elevator. He ran over to ring the siren that alerted everyone that someone was approaching. It was the first time the siren rang off as the real thing and not just a drill.

  “What do you see, Ben?” asked the new town leader, Jane through a walkie-talkie kept at the base of the elevator

  Ben picked up the walkie-talkie that stayed up on the crow’s nest. “It appears to be a single entity walking as if disoriented.” Ben was looking through his scope as he spoke. “The entity just fell down and is now crawling. I think . . . I think it’s Frank!”

  All the people crowded at the bottom of the crow’s nest listening to what Ben said ran as fast as they could toward the gat. With a heavy sense of cautious optimism, George opened the gate, and Porter was the first one through holding his Barrett at the ready.

  Chapter 9

  “It is Frank! Quick, someone get Chris and Hanna! He looks bad!” Porter shouted, running as fast as he could toward his old friend. Porter noticed that someone was coming up behind him and fast. Before he could get a good look, Dylan ran right past him like he was standing still.

  “Frank, are you OK? What happened? Where did you go?” Dylan berated Frank with questions that he could not answer. Frank was so dehydrated that his lips couldn’t move without cracking.

  “Go easy, Dylan, he is in rough shape. He needs to get in the clinic, now!” Porter said as he walked up behind Dylan, a little out of breath.

  George and Owen, being two of the stronger guys in town, carried Frank all the way to the clinic, where Chris and Hanna examined him. They hooked him up to an IV so he could start rehydrating.

  Chris and Hanna did what they could to help Frank feel as comfortable as possible. Without all the right equipment, Chris couldn’t truly diagnose Frank, but she told Margret and Dylan that she believed that Frank was going to die within a week—his injuries and the damage done to his internal organs was too severe to heal.

  “Frank asked to speak with you immediately,” Margret said to Dylan as soon as she walked into the diner and got within a whisper of his ear.

  Dylan said nothing, but he got up from his seat at the counter and left his half-eaten meal to rush to Frank’s side.

  Frank had been sick for weeks, ever since he returned from beyond the southern hills. There was nothing Chris or Hanna, the two medically trained people, could do about it, and Frank refused to take medicine.

  Dylan made it to the door of Frank’s apartment. He knew he didn’t have to knock; Frank was expecting him. Frank was always expecting him. Dylan knocked anyway out of respect. Frank was the closest thing to a father that Dylan had ever had. His hesitation was because he didn’t want to see Frank in the condition Frank was in.

  After he knocked, Dylan entered the apartment without waiting for a response. He knew he wouldn’t get one anyway. He walked through the nearly bare living room. All that was there was Frank’s chair and an end table next to it. The loveseat had been moved out to make room for a table that Hanna and Chris used when they came to care for Frank. The window covering for the single window in the room was also gone.

  Dylan stopped at the threshold of Frank’s bedroom. There, laying on a small bed in the center of the room, Dylan saw a man who was a shell of his former self.

  “Come in and have a seat.” Frank’s weakened arm waved slowly at the single wooden chair next to his bed, a chair that Margret had sat on for hours on end, giving Frank much-appreciated company.

  Dylan walked across the hardwood floor as softly as his boots would let him. He sat down on the chair without speaking. Frank lay on his back, completely still. For a long moment, nothing was said. Then with what seemed like a giant moan of pain, Frank reached out and grabbed Dylan’s hand. Frank’s hand was cold and clammy to the touch; Dylan relaxed his hand to let Frank’s rest in his.

  “I want to tell you something about me that very few people ever knew, and that no one alive knows now.”

  To Dylan’s surprise, Frank’s voice had grown clear and sharp. Dylan had t
hought that he would have to lean in to hear Frank’s words, but he sat straight in the chair overlooking Frank’s bed.

  “You and I have a lot more in common than you realize.” Frank paused for a moment, then pursed his lips. “Could you fetch me a small glass of water? I am afraid that my throat has already gone dry.”

  Dylan went into the kitchen and quickly came back with a small glass that he sat down on the chair. He helped Frank lean up, and then he held the glass up to Frank’s mouth. Frank took a few sips and then nodded his head that he had enough.

  After he lay back down and caught his breath, Frank began to talk again. “I didn’t always live in North Carolina.”

  Dylan noticed that Frank’s eyes began to gloss over as he spoke.

  “I was born and spent all of my adolescent life in Oakland, California. I, like you, never met my father, and like you, I was raised by my grandmother. Unlike you, I went down a darker road.” Frank let that soak in before he continued. “I joined a gang, and we thought we were the toughest, most fearsome group in the city.”

  Dylan absorbed every shocking word like a sponge, and Frank was more and more at peace with himself as he slowly let out the secrets of his past.

  “We really didn’t do much in the beginning. We would rough up some neighborhood kids for their pocket money, or steal their bicycles. But then my friends Robbie and Mike started selling drugs . . .”

  Dylan saw a shadow cross over Frank’s face as he continued to speak.

  “The rest of us guys would ask where they got them, and they wouldn’t tell us.” Frank swallowed hard. “We all stayed in the gang because that was all we had, all we knew, but us younger ones were a little scared of what we were turning into. As the months passed, more of the guys were dealing drugs, money started to flow, and I started getting jealous of the money my friends had.”

  Frank kept silent for a few moments, reliving in his mind what he had experienced so long ago. “One day, Robbie, who at that point was clearly the leader, came to me one-on-one and told me that I had to start selling or I was out of the gang, and if I was out, I wouldn’t be treated any different from ‘any other punk’ in town.

  “It really wasn’t that hard for me to start selling. I was given a corner of my own to operate, and I got a nice percentage of what I sold.” Frank shifted a little. “Dylan, could I have another drink of water, please?”

  Dylan got Frank’s glass and tipped it just enough for a small stream to go over Frank’s lips and into his mouth.

  “As I was saying,” Frank continued after he softly patted Dylan’s arm, signaling he’d had enough water. “Things started looking pretty good. I had money, a car, and a girl. I even tried helping my grandma out, but she was very suspicious of me and my friends, and she wouldn’t take any money from me. She wouldn’t say anything to me, but she wouldn’t allow any of them in her house, and she started to lock her bedroom door when she left the house. She had lost trust in me.” Frank had grown noticeably sad.

  “One night, everything changed. Tony, one of my closest friends, got into an argument with someone from a rival gang. None of us were around to help him. He was stabbed fourteen times and left for dead in the middle of a playground just one block from where he lived. His little sister found his body the next morning.” Frank teared up.

  “As soon as Robbie, Mike, and the boys found out about what happened and who did it, we all went to an abandoned house we knew was that gang’s hangout, and we set it on fire.”

  Dylan was shocked to hear that Frank would ever have done such a thing; if it had come from anybody else, he wouldn’t have believed it.

  “We knew some of them were inside. That’s why we barricaded the doors and stayed a while, to shoot anyone who came out. Four boys died in that fire, including the one who killed Tony.

  “My grandma knew I had something to do with that fire, but I didn’t tell her, and she didn’t ask. Just a few days after that fire, my grandma sent me on a bus to live with my aunt and uncle in North Carolina. I didn’t fight her on it; I knew I had to go. They taught me the way of the Lord, and for that I have been forever grateful to them.

  “At first, they forced me to go to church against my will, but after only a few Sundays, I was hooked for the rest of my life and I never looked back. I was seventeen years old when I was saved by Jesus, and I knew that serving God was my calling.

  “I straightened out really fast after I started going to church. That is where I met my sweet Alice. She was singing in the choir, so young and so beautiful and so innocent. She was nothing like me, and I was nothing without her.”

  Frank brightened as he spoke about Alice; she always made him happy, even in death. Just talking about her made Frank feel warm.

  “Don’t get me wrong, Dylan, I am not comparing you and me. I am just saying when things may be at their worst, you still need to keep your head up.” Frank smiled for the first time and even looked genuinely happy. “Go on and find something to look forward too. You may not get it now, but someday you will have the happiness that I had for forty-eight years and counting. Now get out of here and leave this tired old man to take a nap.”

  Dylan left Frank’s apartment feeling melancholy. He had a feeling that it was the last time he would see his old friend alive. Even though he’d only known Frank for a few months, it felt like several lifetimes.

  Dylan walked slowly to his house. Soon he and Will would be the only ones still living there. Ben moved out when he married Hanna, and Andy was going to marry Gina, a girl from the Canadian tribe. All of the people who were Dylan’s age were getting married, but before all this happened, nobody Dylan’s age had even thought about marriage. They all felt a responsibility to restore normalcy and bring the human race back from the brink of extinction. Dylan just hadn’t found anybody yet, nor had he even tried. Ever since Leah had married Morgan, Dylan hadn’t even thought about any other girl. His heart and his head were both stuck on her.

  Frank passed away shortly after Dylan left his apartment. His funeral was arranged quickly. It was solemn yet strangely happy. The townspeople had lost a great leader and a great friend, yet they were all glad that he had gone home and was no longer suffering, and that he had joined his beloved Alice in Heaven.

  Dylan sat in the front row; Leah sat next to him. Reverend Jim, the man handpicked by Frank to be the pastor, gave a very strong and passionate sermon. Jim and Frank had grown close after they met; they learned a lot from each other and together taught everyone in Hope about God, Jesus, Heaven, and Hell, and what life and love were.

  As soon as the last shovel of dirt was placed on top of Frank’s casket, dark storm clouds emerged from the south at an alarming rate of speed.

  “Everyone inside the gates now!” Jane shouted. Stan was at the gate, and he closed it as soon as the last person ran in.

  Everyone stopped there to see what was going on. That was when Stan revealed to everyone what Frank had already known.

  “Everyone, a battle is coming. The soldiers of Satan are on their way.” As Stan talked, his body transformed. “I am a servant of Heaven sent here over one hundred years ago to rid this town of evil and to protect it for the time that is now at hand.”

  The crowd gasped in shock as ancient-looking armor appeared to cover most of Stan’s body.

  “My name is Rodan, and I am here for God loves humanity, so that to protect it from evil is the ultimate honor.” Rodan looked over the stunned crowd. “I am not an angel. I cannot fly, and I cannot return to Heaven unless called upon by the Holy Spirit. I will stay and protect you from all that I can.”

  “Bob, is everyone ready for this?” Jane asked nervously, as the ground began to tremble with the force of the approaching evil.

  “No! I am not even ready for this. Nobody is.” Bob sounded as lost as he looked. “This is something that most here have never faced before. Dylan is the only one who’s ever
faced one and lived. I will do everything I can to lead all these people, but you have to remember they are not a military. They don’t have experience or training, all they have is heart and faith.”

  Jane gave Bob a hug and started to cry. She tried to speak but no words came out.

  “Go to the bunker at the elevator. You need to do your job, just like the rest of us need to do ours,” Bob said.

  He walked away from Jane and went to the little makeshift platform that was just high enough to look over the wall. He looked outside the wall and then at all the people geared up with what weapons they were trained to use and personal protective equipment was available, for the fight of their lives. The ragtag group reminded him a lot of General Washington’s troops during the American Revolution.

  “I am not much for words,” Bob continued.

  If Dylan wasn’t so nervous, he would have laughed out loud at what Bob just said.

  “And all I have to say to you is we will win. At the end of this, we will be standing. We will have another day—” Before Bob could finish, a loud crash rumbled across the sky, and the dark storm clouds turned an eerie reddish orange.

  Bob looked over the wall again. “We must protect Hope at all costs. Let’s go!”

  He jumped down from the platform. He was the first to walk out of the gate. He didn’t hesitate when the others behind him saw what was coming; he had seen it from the platform. Close to three hundred people followed behind him.

  Rodan followed behind the tribe, staying separate from the pack for a reason. He was looking for the leader. It wasn’t hard for Rodan to find him; he was the ugliest thing that Rodan had seen in a hundred years. It wasn’t Satan but one of his minions, with warts and horns covering his head and a tattoo going from his right eye all the way down to his stomach.

  Dylan looked over his shoulder to see Rodan watching the line of evil coming. He could tell Rodan was looking for something or someone in particular.