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

by Eliza Nolan

  "How could you not know about this?" Her words are slow and pensive. Something in the tone of her voice gives me goose bumps. "Didn't your parents tell you anything?"

  * * *

  When I woke up, Samantha sat over me, staring. "What?" I sat up. "What's wrong?"

  "Do you want to tell me why you have a nightlight or whatever in your sleeping bag?" she barked, frowning.

  "I don't have a nightlight," I said, looking around. "What makes you think I have a freaking nightlight?"

  She rubbed her eyes. "Your stupid sleeping bag's been glowing bright red for like fifteen minutes now. I can't get any sleep."

  I unzipped my sleeping bag. A dim red light washed over the boxcar. I looked down at my mother's necklace.

  "Is that some sort of disco-light jewelry?" Samantha asked.

  "No, it's my mom's necklace. The one I always wear." I stared at it as I spoke. The light drained from it slowly, until it faded to black.

  "I didn't know it did that," Samantha said.

  "It happened before, but so much other stuff's been going on that I kinda forgot about it." I proceeded to tell her about the night in downtown with the frat boys, and how the necklace glowed red. Then I told her about the dream I'd just had with Aydan.

  "So that 'Kamin' necklace is supposed to give you the ability to use special powers?" As she spoke the last two words, Samantha scrunched up her face. I totally got it; it made me uncomfortable to even think about magic or whatever. "Could that be where your crazy monster strength came from when we, ahem, you were fighting off those thieves in Chicago?"

  I let out a sharp breath. The combination lock. The fight hadn't been the first time I'd shown seriously crazy strength. "I don't know. I suppose."

  "Does this mean you have some sort of Turkish Voodoo power?" Her eyes widened and she waved her fingers as if she was doing her own magic.

  "Voodoo is Haitian," I corrected her.

  "Haitian, Turkish, Swedish, whatever, but magic isn't real." Samantha took the words from my mouth.

  I threw my hands in the air. "I know."

  She bit her lip. "Maybe this is a dream, too, then. Maybe if we go back to sleep now, we will wake up back at home."

  "Maybe," I said. I turned from Samantha and burrowed back down into my sleeping bag. Would I ever understand this? Would I ever get some real sleep?

  * * *

  The next time I woke up, sunlight shone into the boxcar, and I couldn't feel my left arm. Rolling over on my back, I winced at the pins and needles as the blood rushed back to my fingertips. My stomach growled.

  "So, we're still here." Samantha frowned. "I expected to wake up at home. If this was all just a dream, it would make way more sense."

  I pushed myself up, crawled over next to Samantha, and dug some granola out of her pack. "All this," I waved my hand around to indicate everything, "is way easier to believe than a punk bringing granola to eat on purpose. You've gone all hippy on me."

  "It's got protein. Besides, I like it." She nudged me with her shoulder. "Any ideas about what's going on with you and your disco necklace?"

  "No. I don't think it's changed colors again or anything. But Aydan did say that it only changed when power was being shifted or something like that."

  "And what about your crazy strength last night? That was just wild how you broke that guy's arm with a flick of your wrist. No messing around - snap!" She jerked her wrist back.

  "I don't know where it came from," I said. "It could've been adrenalin for all I know. I mean, he was coming after you and I didn't think, I just reacted. You would've done the same thing. You've always had my back." Or maybe not anymore. I looked quickly away, heat rising to my cheeks as I remembered the D-Gr8ed ticket and Jeremy incident.

  "Until recently." She slumped down, hunching over. "It occurs to me that I might be the worst friend ever, the way I left you when you needed me the most."

  "Why did you do it? Why did you leave me like that?" I asked. My jaw tensed.

  She looked at the floor of the boxcar. "You were my only friend at West High, and when you started hanging out with Clara, Nate and Graham, I figured you were too busy with your new friends. I didn't know if you'd have any time left for me." She chewed her lip and peeked up at me.

  "Wait. This whole time I thought you were bailing on me, you actually thought I was bailing on you." I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it. "But you were avoiding me. You were always on your phone."

  She nodded. "I didn't want to admit that I was losing you. It felt better to just tune out."

  "You weren't losing me, Sam, I'll always have time for you," I said. "As long as you never give away my ticket again."

  "I won't. I'm so sorry."

  I wanted to still be mad, but here she was; she'd come back when I needed her. "You could've just let me run off to Charleston by myself, but you didn't. You forced your way onto the train with me. You've been here for me when it counted the most."

  "I still feel like a jerk for leaving you the way I did, Julia. I'm sorry."

  "Does this mean you're coming back to West High?"

  She shook her head. "Sorry, Jules. I'm not going back to that whack-fest of a high school."

  "Seriously?" I frowned. "I thought you were only going to Como because Jeremy was there."

  "It may've started that way, but I honestly have a better time learning there. I don't have the constant annoyance of jocks and people like Libby to worry about. The only thing I really miss - other than you, of course - is ceramics. But I really am better off at Como Alternative. It's not what you think. I'm not a lemming jumping off a cliff. I'm better off there."

  I sighed. But she was right. What she said made sense. Samantha belonged at Como. But not me, I needed to do what was right for me. Something inside me still needed to do things the "right" way, for whatever that was worth. "Well, I guess we'll still have evenings and weekends," I said.

  "If we survive this trip and save the world, you mean." She smiled.

  "I was just assuming we would." I shrugged. "Because as long as you have my back, I'm pretty sure I can do almost anything."

  "You're such a cornball, Julia. But yes, I definitely have your back."

  * * *

  When the train finally pulled into the DC yard just after midnight it was pouring rain. We grabbed our bags and walked towards the edge of the yard. The plan was to find a dry place to wait until we found someone to ask about going south.

  "Hey there," a man shouted through the rain. I snapped my head up in his direction. A guy in an orange vest with a radio in one hand and a signal in the other stood in the doorway of a small shed. Crap! A railroad worker, we were so busted!

  "Hi," Samantha said. She calmly headed towards him, as if she did this every day. "We're trying to go south, to Charleston. Do you know when we might be able to catch out?"

  I looked from her face to his and then to his hand-held radio, waiting for him to call us in. Had she lost her freaking mind?

  The man thought for a moment, then glanced at his watch. "You might be able to get the Juice Train. I can find out when they expect it, if you want."

  "That would be tremendous, thanks," Samantha said, as if it was normal to get this type of information from a railroad worker.

  He pulled up his hand-held. "Hey Jerry, do you know when the Juice Train's coming through tonight?" He released the talk button.

  "It's running slow. You've got another hour at least," a voice crackled through the radio.

  The worker turned back to face us. "My break's over and I gotta get back to work, but you can stay in here 'n' wait. C'mon." He ushered us into his little hut, then pulled up his hood and darted back out into the rain.

  The wooden structure was about the size of a walk-in closet, and all dark inside. The bare beams suggested there wasn't any electricity. The yard lights shone through a window and the open doorway so we could see a rusted metal folding chair. The only thing in the place.

  Samantha set her bag down on the d
ingy wooden floor.

  I unzipped my parka. "I can't believe he not only didn't turn us in, but helped us," I said. "I feel like we were just helped by the enemy."

  "That guy's not the enemy." Samantha laughed. "How'd you think Thomas found us a train to DC? The Bull is the one we have to watch out for. The others mostly want us to stay safe and out of their way." She sat down next to her pack on the floor and made herself comfortable. I glanced at the feeble, rusty chair, then took a seat on the floor next to her.

  We ended up passing several hours inside the building, but still hadn't seen the "Juice Train." Finally the rain let up so we peeled off our jackets and stepped outside into the night to stretch our legs.

  "Maybe we can find that worker again," I said for the millionth time as we walked next to the tracks. "Maybe he can radio in to find out what's going on with the train."

  Samantha was probably going insane listening to my nonstop verbal urgency. Nerves had taken over, and anything and everything that popped into my brain automatically came out my mouth. How long until I could get to Graham? What was going to happen to him at the Phoenix ceremony? What if Aydan was right, and people were going to die?

  My God! I was going stir-crazy waiting. My focus was dwindling.

  Samantha slammed into me, knocking me out of my fog and both of us on our asses.

  "Shit!" she yelled.

  "The hell?" I replied.

  Samantha lay on top of me, groaning. Several train cars sped away, engineless, eerily quiet, down the track and into the dark night. I helped her off me and we both sat up.

  "Whoa! That came out of nowhere," I said. "You okay?"

  "I don't think so." She held up her hand covered in a dark liquid.

  "What's that?" But she didn't need to answer; I'd figured it out. She was leaning towards me showing a huge slice through her back and upper arm.

  "Is it bad?" she asked.

  There's no way she couldn't feel it. She had to be in shock.

  Yes. Definitely shock. It had taken a hold of me, too. Must breathe!

  "It's sort of badish," I said. The slices were so deep I could see her muscle. I gulped down a breath. Think, Julia! What did a person do when someone was all cut up? Other than scream and barf.

  Pressure, that was it. I needed to apply pressure. And I did. I took her arm in one hand and squeezed. I pressed my other hand over the cut on her back.

  "Fuck! Julia!" Samantha cried.

  Okay, maybe I pushed a little hard, but I didn't want her to bleed to death so I held her and continued to apply pressure as she struggled. The blood made her arm slick and hard to hold onto. "You have to hold still."

  "It hurts," she shouted.

  "I know. I have to stop the bleeding, though."

  My hands tingled. Maybe I was pushing too hard, and they were losing circulation. I loosened my hold, but the sensation only increased, building in strength, tickling. A giggle escaped my lips as I noticed a red light coming from my mother's necklace under my t-shirt. I loosened the pressure on Samantha's wounds again.

  "What is that?" Samantha asked. "Dude, did you just shoot me up with morphine or something?" She giggled. I laughed with her. The prickling tickle faded, but the urge to laugh didn't. We both bent forward, holding each other for support as the laughter took over.

  "Glad to see you ladies are still doing okay."

  We both straightened and looked up. The railroad worker had returned.

  "I thought I heard screaming. You guys have got to keep it down or I'm gonna lose my job for not turning you in. You understand?"

  We nodded.

  "Dang, is that blood?" His eyes fixed on my hands.

  "Uh, yeah, we just fell, and she got cut, but it's nothing."

  Samantha showed him her shoulder, which was nothing like moments before. She had a tiny slit on her back and arm. It could've been a paper cut.

  "Just be careful, we send train sections down this track all the time from that hill up there." He pointed up the track. "It would be stupid for one of you to not hear it comin' and lose a limb, or worse."

  We nodded in unison.

  "I'll see about that Juice Train for you." He pulled out his radio and exchanged a bunch of words - railroad-speak for something. I didn't understand any of it.

  Finally, he turned back to us. "They got held up behind a stalled train, but it's on its way now."

  "Thanks for all the help," I said.

  "Good luck." He sauntered off down the tracks.

  I got up and helped Samantha to her feet.

  "How does it feel?" I asked.

  "My shoulder's tired, and the cut stings a little." She looked down at my neck. "Your power necklace thingy is glowing again, Julia."

  I pulled the charm out from under my shirt. "I know." We exchanged a look that said "things are getting seriously weird."

  We headed back to the little shed where we'd stashed our coats and packs, to wait for the train.

  I had no clue what a "Juice Train" was, but when a long train of cars with orange juice company logos on it made its way slowly through the yard, I figured it out. It was apparent from the speed, this train wasn't stopping, but it had slowed down to a near crawl, so we headed for the tracks. Up close, the train moved way faster than it first seemed. The cars, all closed, flew by.

  "I guess we're going to have to ride on one of those back platforms." Samantha answered my question before I asked. The platforms she referred to were small, but it was the best - the only - option we had. "You ready?"

  "Not really." But I nodded.

  As I faced the car, contemplating how fast it was going, the ladder rose in front of me and I scurried up.

  The low groan of the engine switched to a higher pitch and the train pushed forward, quickening its pace. Samantha ran next to the train. She grabbed the railing just past the ladder, but couldn't get a good hold to pull herself up. Her hands slipped. I rushed over, grabbing onto the railing for stability and pulled Samantha on board by her arm, setting her on the platform.

  She lay there, winded. I squatted next to her. We were both silent for a moment before we busted out laughing. Exhaustion, surprise, and relief all flooded out of us in bursts of laugher.

  "That was close," she said through heaving breaths. "I almost fell. If you hadn't been able to grab me…"

  "Hang on. Let me try something." I grabbed Samantha by the backpack straps and lifted, but it was no use, I couldn't lift her now. Whatever superhuman strength I had a minute ago was gone

  I blew out a breath. "I'm back to my normal weakling self, no more superhuman strength here." I checked my necklace, the red glow already gone.

  "Julia, you weren't just super strong, you were really fast, too. When you reached out and grabbed me, all I could see was a blur."

  I thought back to the attack in Chicago, how easily I'd outmaneuvered them. She was right, I was wicked fast.

  I stuck out my lower lip. "So what, I get super powers, but I'm not allowed to choose when to use them? That's so lame!"

  "Hey, at least you have super powers," Samantha said. She crossed her arms. "Just don't forget us little people when you become all famous."

  "Ha ha," I said. But as I laughed, a yawn escaped.

  "Does Super Julia need a nap?"

  The platform was only wide enough for one of us to lie down. Samantha gestured for me to take the space. I nodded, my strength had depleted completely; I couldn't argue with her. What was it anyway, two in the morning? I'd been awake for close to twenty hours. Recharge time. I pulled my sleeping bag out of my pack, only slightly damp from the rain. I crawled in, and used Samantha's lap as a pillow. I was out like that.

  * * *

  Graham's face is bruised. One of his eyes is swollen shut. He looks at me with his good eye.

  "Are you okay, Julia?" he asks. His voice even more grave than normal.

  I frown and laugh at the ridiculousness of the question. No matter how messed up he is, he always worries about me first. I sit down
on the bed next to him. "What've they done to you?" I take his hand gently in mine.

  "Don't worry about me." He pushes himself up and puts his arm around me, and we sit looking at each other. Even though we've only been apart for two and a half days, it feels like two and a half years.

  "I'm sorry for getting you involved in all of this," Graham says, running his fingers through my hair.

  "Graham, stop apologizing. This isn't your fault."

  "If it hadn't been for me, you never would've had those dreams. I should've stayed away from you, but I couldn't. I should've known they would come after me, and I should've just kept to myself. It was greedy of me to invite you into my life."

  "I'm not sure this has anything to do with us meeting." I pull my mother's necklace out and show it to Graham. It's glowing, just as I knew it would be.

  He puzzles over it. "That's the necklace I saw you wearing the day we bumped into each other at school. But it's different."

  I nod. "It changes colors when I use it to channel power. Like right now, I'm using it to contact you. I also used it to fight off some muggers in Chicago and to heal Samantha."

  "Hang on, did you say you were mugged? In Chicago?" Graham's muscles tense and he holds me closer, protectively.

  "Yeah, but don't worry. I fought them off. I didn't even break a sweat."

  "Them? You fought a them?" He's struggling with the concept more than just a little bit. "How?"

  "I don't really know. But the point is this has to do with me. It's my mother's necklace that's made me have all these weird dreams. Aydan, this woman I've been dreaming about, is real. She knows things that can help me save you."

  "No, Julia. You can't come down here. It's not safe."

  "I have to. If I don't, she said people would die. Besides, I do appear to be a bit stronger than I originally thought. Sometimes, anyway."

  Suddenly there's low buzz and Graham fades for a moment then returns.

  No wait, it's me. I'm fading out of my dream. I haven't had enough time. "Graham," I cry.

  "What's happening?"

  "I think my dream is ending. But I don't want to go." I pull him closer, and his arms tighten around me. We kiss.