Phoenix Awakens: A Young Adult Paranormal Romance (The Phoenix Book 1)

by Eliza Nolan

  I swallowed against the bile rising in my throat, bracing myself against the car for stability. Now was not the time to puke.

  I took a deep breath, trying to stay calm and keep my head. I'd planned on buying food and water for the trip at the corner store. If I didn't stop there first, I might starve to death on the ride. Just add that to the things I had to worry about. "I have to run into the store quick."

  "Come on, I have enough food and water for both of us," Samantha said, patting a large army surplus backpack slung over one shoulder.

  If she thought I was going to get on a train without food and water she was…hang on, what did she say? "Both of us?" I looked at her.

  "Shyeah! You didn't think I'd let you go down there all by yourself, did you?"

  I knew I should tell her not to go. I should make her stay, because it wasn't safe, and it wasn't her problem. And her parents would kill her, again. But when I looked her in the eye, two things became glaringly apparent: I was too scared to go alone; and even if I hadn't been scared, there was no way in hell she would let me go without her. I felt an overwhelming urge to hug her.

  "We gotta go, now!" Samantha said.

  I grabbed my bag and hugged Nate goodbye.

  We climbed over a metal railing and scrambled through a yard filled with trains. Samantha counted the tracks as we went. "This should be it," she said.

  The train she referred to was full of shallow cars with shipping containers stacked up two high. I gave her my "are you sure this is the train, and where the heck do we sit?" look. She went to the end of the nearest car and hoisted herself up to peek into a shallow bucket area between the container and the end of the car. "This going to Chicago?"

  "Yeah," a scruffy voice shouted back. "You wanna ride with us, baby?"

  "No thanks," she said and walked towards the next car and peered over the side. "That one's occupied, too."

  We continued down the train until we found an empty car. We threw our bags in. Samantha pulled herself over the lip of the car and helped me up just as a loud roar echoed down the tracks and the train kicked itself into motion. I had to hug the side of the car so I wouldn't fly off as the train jerked to life.

  I climbed down with Samantha into the end of the car. We were in a space just big enough for us to sit comfortably with our bags, between the cargo container and the end of the car. It had a shallow lip on both sides that held us in, but the top was open. I leaned against the side of the car and watched as the train moved onto the main set of tracks.

  The sound of the wheels squealling and banging against the rails, metal on metal, came up through the floor. We were going to have to shout in order to hear each other.

  Maybe that wasn't a bad thing. I was grateful Samantha had offered to come along, I really was. But it was so easy for her to turn on me those few weeks back. Could I ever trust her again? I wasn't so sure.

  "I know what you're thinking," Samantha yelled over the noise. "Boxcars are more romantic."

  I wasn't thinking that, but she was right. Somehow I'd imagined the romantic boxcar as my chariot to the South. And here I was, in an open car wedged between a huge dirty metal box and more rusty metal.

  "The train we're on right now is a lot faster than anything we could catch out of here with an open boxcar. You said you wanted to get there fast, right?"

  I nodded.

  "This is the hotshot to Chicago. We'll get there in no time."

  "How long is 'no time'?" I asked.

  "Eight to twelve hours."

  I tried not to do the math. The whole ride was going to take forever, that much was obvious. Instead, I sat and watched the city go by.

  I always thought of Minneapolis as a clean and new city, but all the buildings around the tracks were old and tired. Many were either condemned or should've been, their windows broken and their doors boarded up. Graffiti adorned every inch of wall space. Some sloppy, rushed, and amateur, but many pieces were elaborate, colorful, and impressive. I was traveling through an urban freestyle museum of sorts.

  After a while Samantha said, "So are you going to tell me why we're going to Charleston?"

  I sighed. It was only fair to tell her since she was going with me. "Do you remember that dream I had a few weeks ago?" I said.

  "The dream with you running through the forest after guys in hooded cloaks and sexy half-naked Graham." Samantha nodded.

  I blushed as she referred to Graham as sexy and half-naked. "Yeah," I said. "It turns out those dreams may have been more than just dreams."

  "This is about a boy?" She smiled.

  "Ye…no…sort of. It's more than that, though." I shook my head. "It's about what they were doing in the forest in my dream."

  I spent the next several hours filling Samantha in on what had been going on in the past few weeks. It was just like old times. She focused on all the important parts - the ones involving kissing Graham, of course, and listened as I told her about Clara's abduction and all the things Graham and Clara had been through. And then I told her about Graham getting kidnapped.

  "Nuh uh," Samantha said. "I know you weren't planning on going to Charleston on your own to rescue Graham." She crossed her arms over her chest. "If the Phoenixes do have Graham, how are you going to save him? By taking on a large group of dudes?" She glanced at my small frame.

  When she put it that way, maybe she had a point.

  The train sped through cornfields and the sun hung low on the horizon on its way down, bringing the temperature down with it. I zipped up my hoodie and pulled on my parka, hoping it wouldn’t get too much colder.

  We spent the evening passing the time with silly road trip games like twenty questions and I-Spy.

  I was just starting to get sleepy when I noticed an awful lot of buildings outside. "How do we know when we're there?" I asked.

  Samantha dug her phone out of her pocket. "GPS says this is it."

  We packed up our stuff as the city came into view. The graffiti in Chicago was much more sophisticated than the stuff in Minneapolis. There was a lot more of it, too. I hadn't realized how small-town Minneapolis was compared with a city like Chicago. New possibilities as well as new dangers, my excitement was tinged with fear.

  I was really doing this.

  The breaks squealed and slowly brought us to a stop. We grabbed our bags and jumped down. On solid ground, my body felt numb. The constant shaking of the train had turned my legs to jelly. I shook them out, trying to get my land legs back. "What now?"

  She scanned the yard. "We have to find someone who can tell us if there's a fast train heading east soon."

  "What? I thought you knew how to get there already," I said.

  "Freight trains don't run on a schedule, they leave when they're ready to go. We were lucky to find the hotshot to Chicago when we did. I don't think we can expect to be that lucky twice."

  Down the tracks, headlights flashed and a white SUV pulled around the end of our train, a dozen or so cars down.

  "C'mon." Samantha pulled me away from the train.

  "What?"

  "That's the Bull - railroad security. Time to run."

  Samantha darted towards the edge of the train yard and I chased after her, heart pumping. Getting caught was not an option. We dashed into the cover of trees at the edge of the yard and came to a chain-link fence, topped with barbed wire. The fence ran all the way along the yard. We weren't going to be able to walk around.

  I glanced over my shoulder, but the SUV was gone. Still, what if they came back?

  "How do we get over the barbed wire?" I asked.

  "Not a problem." She pulled a blanket out of her bag, climbed up the fence and covered the barbed wire with it. She made sure a good part of it was covered and then lifted one leg over. "Hand me the bags." She took them and dropped them on the ground on the other side, climbing down after them.

  I scurried up after her, and dropped down the other side.

  Just as I landed, shouting broke out a short way down the fence, ma
king us scramble to hide in the shadows of a bush. I peeked out and saw two men - one built like a football player and the other just a bit larger than a horse jockey - ganged up on a third guy who had a huge backpack on.

  The smaller guy pushed the one with a pack. The man with the pack ran in our direction. We ducked behind brush as they raced past. Crap. We hadn't managed to grab our bags, which lay on the ground by the fence, out in the open.

  The two men caught up to the third just past us. All they needed to do was turn around and they'd see our bags sitting there, free for the taking.

  Keeping in the shadows, I looked out. They were under a streetlight now, and I was shocked to find we knew the man being attacked. It was Thomas, the guy who'd helped Samantha get back to Minneapolis.

  The other two got Thomas on the ground and began punching him. Thomas tried to fight back, but it was two against one. "Just give us the money," the small one yelled. "We know you have it."

  "Get away from me!" Thomas shouted.

  I scanned the train yard for the railroad security, but the SUV had gone. I wanted to help Thomas, but me, fight? I'd get myself killed if I tried. Samantha looked like she wanted to go help, too, but she knew even if both of us went, we would still end up with our asses kicked. Samantha may act tough, but she couldn't fight any more than I could.

  The men pulled Thomas's pack off and left him in a heap on the ground. I gulped down my panic. The short guy had spotted our bags. He nudged his friend and they scanned the yard. Samantha shifted behind the bushes and their attention shot to our location.

  Busted.

  "Look what we have here," one of the men said and laughed.

  Samantha froze.

  "Are these yours?" the smaller man said.

  "Yes. Put them down." Her voice was forceful, but it shook slightly, betraying her fear.

  "Don't get all upset, sweetheart." He stepped closer as he spoke.

  She glared at them. Calling Samantha a sweetheart was a super easy way to piss her off. Her nostrils flared and she tensed her jaw as if she was actually considering taking them on.

  "Go get her. See if she wants to play with us, Joe," he said to his friend.

  The big one started towards Samantha, and before I knew what I was doing, I darted out from the other side of the bush and rushed at him from behind.

  "No, Julia!" Samantha shouted, but I couldn't see anything except the big guy in front of me.

  I reached out with one hand, gripped the guy by his belt, and pulled him away from Samantha with so much force he flew past me. He hit the ground with a loud thud, and I stood, staring as he sat up, dazed, rubbing his butt.

  No. Way.

  The guy was huge. How the heck had I just thrown him with one hand?

  Someone grabbed me from behind. I twisted out of the smaller guy's hold effortlessly. He reached for me again but I dodged him. He took a swing and I caught his hand holding it there as he fought to free himself. His effort was so feeble, and his hand so delicate. If I squeezed just a bit more I might break him.

  What the…? I was one of the weakest people I knew. This might've been the smaller of the two men, but he was still bigger than me. How was I able to overpower him without even trying?

  He kicked at my legs, and though it didn't hurt, it was annoying, so I twisted his wrist. I just wanted to make him stop kicking, but something snapped and he screamed like a small child as he cradled his arm to his chest.

  Thomas had joined us, pouncing on the other guy. As Thomas began losing steam, I jumped on top of the larger guy, putting him in a choke hold, the one self-defense move I remembered from gym.

  He tried to wiggle out, but made no progress.

  "Stop," I said. The large one quit struggling in my arms, but the little guy continued whimpering. "I'll give you a twenty second head start before I call the cops. Understood?"

  "Yes," wheezed the man whose neck was squeezed between my interlocked arms.

  "Good," I said and released him.

  He grabbed his still sobbing buddy and they took off down the street.

  Samantha stared at me, her mouth hanging open before she found her words. "Are you okay, Julia? Or should I call you, Super Woman?"

  I bit my lip and stammered. "I think so." I looked myself over. Not a cut. I wasn't even sweating. How was that possible? "You okay?"

  "I'll be fine." Samantha dusted herself off. She turned to Thomas. "You think you'll live?"

  Thomas sat hunched on the ground. As he looked up at us, recognition passed across his face. "Hey, Minneapolis!" he said. "I'm bruised to heck, but I don't think anything's broken. What are you doing in Chicago? Come back for more fun?"

  "It's not for fun this time," she explained. "We're on our way to Charleston to save the world."

  Thomas smiled and nodded approvingly. "Cool!" he said. As if that was something he heard every day. "So you need to find your next train?"

  We nodded.

  "I'll give you a hand. It's the least I can do since you helped me get my pack back. Come on."

  He led us down the fence to a place with bushes growing on both sides. Reaching just inside the bushes, he grabbed the fence, pulled it away from the pole, and scurried under it, popping back up on the other side. Way easier than climbing over.

  "They're working on a few trains now," he said through the fence. "I'll go check 'em out. Stay there."

  Samantha and I nodded again and squatted down next to the fence trying to blend into the bush. We smiled at each other but neither of us spoke. My brain struggled to form sense of what just happened, let alone words.

  Thomas came back a few minutes later. "You're in luck. There's one almost ready that's heading to DC. C'mon."

  Samantha and I crawled through the fence and Thomas led us across the vast train yard, probably five times larger than the one in Minneapolis. There was no way we'd have figured out our next move without Thomas. We'd been lucky running into him. Although, he'd been lucky running into us, too.

  We came to a stop in front of an open boxcar. Thomas peaked inside. "This one's empty," he said. "Thanks for helping me get my bag back. Good luck saving the world." He smiled big.

  "Thanks again for all your help, Thomas," Samantha said and shook his hand.

  "Yeah, thanks," I said.

  "It was nothing," Thomas said. "Now get on that train before it leaves without you."

  As he said it, a large boom rolled down the tracks and the train kicked into motion.

  Samantha and I threw our bags into the car and wasted no time. I grabbed the ledge and Samantha helped me up, almost throwing me in the car, then jumped up next to me. We turned around just in time to wave goodbye to Thomas as the train pulled out of the yard.

  Chapter Seventeen

  My eyes strained to make out the insides of the boxcar. Even with my parka zipped all the way up to my nose and the drawstrings of my hood tied tight, the combination of the wind blowing in through the open doors and the significant drop in temperature since the sun had gone down was bone chilling. It would be a cold, dark ride.

  We both pulled out our bedding and set up in a corner as far out of the wind as possible.

  "I'm exhausted." I yawned.

  "You should be. You kicked some major butt tonight."

  "You noticed that too, huh? I don't know where that came from. When I saw that guy coming after you I had to do something. And then when I did, it was so easy. Pulling that guy back took all the effort it would to pull a weed."

  Samantha looked at me and offered a reassuring smile. I appreciated it. Whatever was going on had her as freaked as me. She ran a hand through her hair and yawned.

  "Why don't we get some sleep?" Samantha said, breaking the silence.

  "Sure."

  We crawled into our sleeping bags. Even though the floor of the boxcar was hard and the wheels slammed against the tracks, I fell asleep almost immediately.

  * * *

  Graham lies in a bed, eyes closed. The bed's antique frame is
a matching set with the dresser and dressing table in the room. I sit down next to Graham and touch his shoulder gently. "Graham?"

  His eyes open slowly and he smiles. "Julia, you're here." His dopey smile and his high voice suggest he's drugged.

  "Yes, I am." I run my fingers through his hair. "Where are we?"

  "I'm not sure. I think they're keeping me in the Phoenix Temple. Waiting for the night they can perform the ritual."

  "I'm coming for you, Graham."

  "No, Julia. It's not safe." He reaches up and brushes my cheek with his hand, sending a wave of warmth through my body. I lie down next to him, curling into his side, and he puts his arms around me. The world fades.

  * * *

  "He seems really nice." I startle at the woman's voice.

  "Aydan," I say. Just visible in the moonlight, she kneels over me, where I lay on the ground surrounded by trees. My arms hug the air where Graham once lay.

  "The one and only." She beams, and offers her hand to help me up.

  As I pull myself to my feet, I catch sight of a small necklace she's wearing. Tied to a string in a simple metal setting is a tiny stone, smaller than a pea. Red light radiates from it, illuminating Aydan's face. "What is it?" I ask.

  "You don't know?" she says, her shoulders tense. But relief washes over her face as she glances at my neck. I look down. I'm wearing one of my standard black t-shirts, but a faint glow emanates from underneath. I take the chain and pull out my mother's necklace.

  "You have one, too." Her shoulders relax. "They are Kamin. They help us channel the power."

  She holds hers up to compare. Though her setting is different, the stones are the same size, shape, and are even glowing the same red. "The stones are identical," I say, "but mine was black before."

  She nods. "That's what it looks like in its resting state. But whenever it's near a shift, it changes colors."

  "What's a shift?"

  She shakes her head, incredulous. "You really don't know anything, do you? A power shift," she says, like I would get it now that she'd added another word.

  I shrug.

  "When power is invoked or used, that causes a shift. Like now, for example, this dream that allows us to communicate, it causes a shift in power.