PHOENIX (The Weaver Series Book 4)

by Vaun Murphrey

  I dipped our chin and looked up at my much taller companion. “I’m sure that can be arranged. Where would you like them to stay, James?”

  He pretended to think about it but I knew where he would send them. Even with the vacant houses we still had around the enclave James wouldn’t want the men unobserved, so his response wasn’t surprising.

  Tone smooth, James suggested, “Why don’t we kill two birds with one stone? We’ll take you over to our clinic, and you can catch your breath while you meet our resident doctor, Maggie Johnson?”

  Silver zipped off to warn our aunt of the four unwelcome, unexpected guests as I turned to walk back the way we’d just come on the sidewalk. The infirmary was inside a ring of pines off behind the brick security building, and the white roof reflected the meager light of the day like an unofficial welcome sign. A pristine level sidewalk branched off of the more traversed aged, gray-stained slabs we left, leading up to the slightly raised man made hill the clinic rested on.

  Cheerfully Silver chirped in a munchkin voice as soon as she got back, “Follow the concrete road! We’re off to see the doctor, the wonderful doctor of Oz!”

  Feeling on edge I returned, “So I guess you get to be Dorothy and I’m Toto?”

  My twin laughed. “Sensitive much?”

  Maggie came out from the infirmary to stand in the wind she couldn’t feel, awaiting our arrival with crossed arms and a jutted hip. The stethoscope wreathing her neck put off a shine when the light caught it and her brilliant red hair looked like the flame of a giant candle from this distance.

  As we passed beneath the ring of evergreens our ears caught the distinctive sound of a pine cone bouncing through the branches above on a crash course with the ground. For training purposes Malcolm and Melody had begun a game for the enclave’s Prana students—whoever caught the most falling cones each week won.

  It was actually fun and when we shot a quick glance to the side James was already tracking the brown missile in preparation for a zip and snatch. I reined Silver in when she made as if to jump us to the estimated landing site.

  With a blur, James shot forward almost too fast to see and caught the baseball sized tree bomb, grinning widely before crowing like a little boy, “Beat you!”

  Silver stuck out our tongue. “Cass held me back. You had an unfair advantage.”

  I sauntered in his direction, peeling away the shield from our hand and his face, before resting it lightly on his cheek. “Winning isn’t everything. By the way…heads up, James, we’re outta here.”

  It didn’t require much energy to ‘port the short span to the bottom of the infirmary steps but when we were unassisted by the power loop James, Kara, Silver, and I created together sometimes James still got queasy. Sure enough, when we fully materialized he instantly brought the pine cone under his nose to inhale the scent and still his spinning stomach.

  Maggie’s voice cut through the playful mood. “Are you all through showing off?”

  A little color stole into our cheeks and the wind bit for just a moment until Corinne’s shield crept back over our body. My aunt’s eyes saw through the game we’d been playing with our guests. I knew she could see the reason for it, but she was always there, ready and willing to call us up short when we got carried away.

  James gave one last deep breath before reasoning in our defense. “They’re entirely too willing to dismiss Cass and Silver. We’d prefer to convince them they need us more than we need them. Dangling new talents in their faces might do the trick.”

  Maggie harrumphed, hooking her head behind us. “Well right now about all you’ve accomplished is shock and uncertainty. These are old dogs…you mighta jumped in the deep when you shoulda stuck to the shallows.”

  James and I turned to find the four men we’d left, standing in a tight still knot at the shadowy base of a twenty foot tree.

  Silver sighed. “We don’t have time to babysit Council members. We’ve got STD.”

  Out of the corner of his mouth James whispered, “Say what?”

  Silver grumbled and flipped our palm like a pancake. “You know…Shit-To-Do.”

  Poorly chosen acronyms aside, my sister was right. We definitely had things that needed doing and this was just another delay in a string of delays as far as we were concerned. Our little community of Weavers was mostly back on its feet and it was time to start planning a return strike at the Warp Faction, not dancing around politics with an outdated system of government that held no real power.

  The wind was really picking up now, adding stronger and stronger gusts. A blue norther must be rolling in. The weather made the huddled Council envoy’s decision for them and they began their strange dignified march up to us.

  Maggie ducked her head in acknowledgment of their arrival giving a curt, “Gentlemen.”

  The crafty looking grandfather-ish man with a green farm supply cap on shuffled forward two steps ahead of his cohorts to pull his hat off by the bill with a veined hand and say, “Jesus Ramon Ballesteros Soto here, but you can call me Ramon. I believe we’ve consulted in the Web a time or two on a difficult patient, Maggie?

  Silver laughed. “Who needs four freakin’ names?”

  Ramon’s proffered hand darted toward my aunt but hung out just short of her elevated position, forcing her to walk down the steps and meet him on more equal ground. She smiled in welcome as their joined palms pumped up and down. “It’s a pleasure, Ramon. You really helped with that homeopathic cough remedy—total lifesaver with an asthmatic allergic to opiates.”

  Ramon’s return smile was warm but not quite as open as Maggie’s. The twinkle still danced in his dark eyes as he turned away to gesture his companions forward saying, “This is one of our elders, Manuel Reno, and his great grandson John Reno.”

  Maggie extended a palm to shake and the Renos accepted it with curt acknowledging head nods and no words of welcome. Ramon moved on to the most unobtrusive member of the group who looked to be the youngest, possibly in his mid to late thirties but his skin was already tough and sun dried. “This is my nephew John Doe.”

  The younger man’s mouth barely moved as he returned Maggie’s handshake saying, “Just call me Doe.”

  Silver’s surprised bark of laughter at the name made me jump, earning us a puzzled look from the gathered men.

  My aunt gripped her stethoscope absently with one hand and motioned at the door with the other, “Shall we go inside out of the wind gentlemen? I can show you around our modest facilities and even offer you some libations while you catch your breath if that sounds good?”

  The wind was really whipping now causing a creaking whistling combination through the pines circling the infirmary. It was patently obvious that our hair and clothes weren’t moving with the elements and Ramon spoke up as he moved to follow Maggie up the steps. “How is it that the wind isn’t affecting any of you?”

  James settled himself at the rear and spoke loudly enough for his voice to carry to the front of our procession. “New security protocol with untried technology. It’s still in the beta phase but we’re working out the kinks. The trial run was successful.”

  Silver murmured in our head, “I’d say. Corinne might take umbrage to being described as new technology with ‘kinks’ though.”

  Internally I shot back, “You’re not kidding. She’s been bitchier than normal lately.”

  My sister sighed. “I suppose we can’t kick her out of the house since Gerome wanted her with us but it’s been dang tempting. She keeps using all the soft butter and not putting any more out on the counter. Should we start posting house rules or something? Corinne isn’t the only annoying one…”

  I gave my own sigh of exasperation. “Can we not have this conversation right now?”

  We’d missed a whole block of back and forth between James and Ramon with our sisterly banter. The initial reaction of our visitors to the interior of the infirmary was something I didn’t want to miss. Gerome had really outdone himself.

  The exterior of our
uncle’s last gift to his wife was an exact replica of the clinic at the old compound but that was where the similarities ended. He’d instituted a design switch that did away with the simple wooden, frontier town feel of the old infirmary and replaced it with a space saving minimalist style that somehow still suited Maggie’s personality. Hidden cabinets and drawers abounded. In the beginning it had been like a scavenger hunt trying to figure out where everything was stored but now David, our resident night nurse, and my aunt had it figured out.

  The white of the roof continued into the waiting area at the front and there was still a counter with a flap that had to be raised before you could gain entry to the treatment area.

  Everyone paused as the door shut with a rubber sealed squish, effectively sealing out nature, and the peace of the naturally lit waiting room sunk in. Black leather chairs went around the rectangle of space with small round tables parceled out at intervals for magazines. Gone were the plain plank benches with mats for storing muddy shoes. The days of unpaved soggy streets and walkways were over. The clinic still smelled like lavender, Maggie’s favorite scent, but she’d begun using more peppermint lately and that smell made the air seem frosty as we inhaled.

  Our guests were silent, not due to awe it seemed, but mainly observation. The only face that freely showed emotion was Ramon’s and his smile actually widened enough to expose a top row of coffee stained teeth as he said, “Truly this is a calm place. Your patients must be so happy here.”

  Maggie smiled back, soft brown eyes bewitching in the dimmer light of the cloud covered sun leaking through the skylight over our heads as she said, “You should see the rest of the place. Gerome must’ve been feeling pretty Zen when he…”

  Her mouth crumbled at the corners and fine white lines leapt out around her eyes as she struggled with her inner grief. A chest hitch followed a straightening of her shoulders. She swallowed the morose feelings like a nearly visible tennis ball in her throat. Maggie continued in a monotone, “If you gentlemen would follow me please I’ll take you back to the treatment areas.”

  Not a one of the men gave a flicker that she’d had a moment of weakness, politely ignoring the emotional hiccup as if it hadn’t occurred, which of course made it seem like the elephant in the room. My aunt had lost some weight in her grieving but she was still a large woman. Her button down cardigan was too loose between the soft cliff of her pendulous breasts and the voluptuous slope of her wide hips.

  James reached around Maggie to solicitously hold the counter flap open as we all filed by. He brought up the rear again as we continued through the swinging door into a long hall with two doors on each side. Three of the rooms were for private consultations and examinations but the third was a nurse’s lab slash supply area. A black lacquered plaque graced that door at eye level with gunmetal gray letters staking out David’s territory.

  Nicky’s spot had to be replaced and no one in the current Weaver population was eager to fill it. Partly we thought, out of a misplaced loyalty. Even in her death the cheerful kindhearted young woman had a devoted following that elevated her memory into an unofficial sainthood.

  Maggie had suggested a good way to induct Outsiders into our close knit society was to hire a straight vanilla human nurse. The rumor got around the enclave and protests began immediately but still no one had volunteered for the training or the job. We were at an impasse but Silver and I had already decided to go ahead with our aunt’s suggestion.

  Sometimes, change couldn’t be gentle and we didn’t mind being the bad guy…much.

  We strolled into the much smaller open area that Maggie could use for overflow if all of the treatment rooms were occupied. Stacks of collapsible cots were against the walls on each side along with a few stretchers, a couple of folded down wheelchairs and some rolling IV racks.

  An enormous skylight let in the muted rays of the day, and an inner solar powered mirror and light system strengthened the incoming light, manufacturing enough brightness to make the weather outside seem summery. The soles of several shoes whispered into the open space. At the back on either side of another short hall were the men’s and women’s restrooms on one side and the new laundry room on the other. Behind the laundry room was an operating slash delivery room. My aunt’s new digs shared a wall with the toilets but thankfully it was sufficiently soundproofed, so a faint flush was all you ever heard. If she was having a good day, the jokes never ended about where Gerome had decided she should be between patients.

  The door to the operating room opened, and David poked his head out. His army green eyes were pinched in irritation and the latex glove on his hand made a dry, rubbery sound as it rolled off his fingers. He crushed the powdered white protection in his palm, leaving two empty tubes to dangle in the air as he pumped his fist. The door clicked carefully closed behind him and he took in our guests then zipped his attention back to Maggie. “You better see Mrs. Martinez. Since I’m not ‘a real doctor’ she won’t let me lance the boil on her hip. I swear that woman is going to make me go gray.”

  Maggie turned to Ramon where he stood by his nephew Doe and the Renos. “Would you like to assist, Dr. Soto? Since she insists on a real doctor I don’t think she’d turn down two at once. James and David can act as hosts while Cassandra and Silver get back to the business of leadership. Duty calls us all, you know.”

  At Maggie’s dismissal of us I backed away and gave a short bow to the men. Four sets of dark considering eyes pinned us in place before Ramon smiled, first at Silver and I then at my aunt. Bam! Unsubtle point made.

  “Call me Ramon, please, and I would be delighted to observe you in action. Difficult patients are my specialty.”

  Everyone paused as if they were waiting for something to happen. I jerked into motion, gave another abrupt awkward half-bow and said, “Excuse us, gentlemen. We’ll be seeing you again I’m sure.” I caught an averted eye roll from James.

  Silver asked, “Where the hell are we going? There really isn’t anywhere we’re supposed to be.”

  I pulled the image of our room to the front of our mind in answer. Our king size bed was unmade as usual. The fluffy down comforter was thrown back in a crooked triangle to expose beige sheets with a thread count so high they looked slick. Nobody ever accused us of being neat freaks. Silver initiated the bend and the clinic faded around the edges to be replaced by our shadowed room. The thick curtains were drawn so daylight leaked through the line in the rectangular middle until the embossed cloth ran below the bottom of the window. Overall our room felt like an antique furniture showcase for a gothic hotel advertising civil war ghosts. Our ears buzzed as they strained for sounds in the rest of the house but picked up nothing.

  I scooted us on our butt until our boots dangled half a foot off the floor. I kicked the frame with our heels through the ruffled eyeleted bed skirt. Silver spied the yellow cylinder of Burt’s Bees lip balm on our cherry wood side table and snatched it up. The peppermint scent blossomed as I peeled away our reactivated protective film so my twin could apply it to our dry lips.

  With a creak of the hinges, our door, which had been ajar already, drifted halfway open seemingly unassisted. The empty carpeted hall waited. I looked for signs of the intruder and saw two foot shaped depressions in the plush pin carpet fibers on the floor.

  Our heart beat a little faster.

  Chapter Two: Drama Llama Ding Dong

  On high alert, our heartbeat replaced the annoying ear buzz until light exploded in a retinae-searing, heatless conflagration. When the dazzling display dissipated Kara stood with her hand on the crystal doorknob and a shoulder on the door frame. Silver threw our Burt’s Bees at her forehead and it hit with surprising force to bounce off her shield then ping off the shade of the table lamp next to us.

  Kara’s guffaw was loud and forced. “I thought Corinne was just paranoid about this whole ‘shield every day all the time’ business but I guess I do need protection…from you.” She put her thumb to the end of her nose and wiggled four of her finger
s. Her pink tongue poked past her lips in a tight cone.

  I took a long look at our best friend’s face. The brown flecks mixed in her once all green irises were darker today to match the circles under her gradually slanted eyes. Traceries of fragile veins were just visible under the thin skin. Tall and slender with dark, near-black hair that used to be long but was now cut in a wispy pixie, Kara looked like a model for a campaign ad against drug use. Life had been pretty hard on her while we’d been away on Axsa. A wad of guilt sat somewhere in the vicinity of our navel, throwing out spikes of helpless anxiety.

  Silver took over our mouth. “I thought you were taking an online course this morning? Are you done already?”

  James had finally let Kara have access to her inheritance since she’d braved the Web again. Their parents’ untimely death in a car accident had left them financially comfortable. The Lees would both have preferred the presence of their mother and father than a life insurance check. Without the pressure of the mundane need for money Kara had decided to go to school full time. Traditional college was out of the question with her panic attacks and all-around general aversion to being in public. Plus it turned out she was a total brain like her brother. I couldn’t argue with her need to work at her own pace.

  Kara stared at the ceiling like it was fascinating. Her voice got hollow and far away as if her mind were somewhere else and her body was just going through the motions of living. “I got bored.” Her pupils contracted and she fidgeted, crossing her arms and then uncrossing them over her pink Wonder Woman t-shirt. “You and Kal still owe me triple for our bet. The bald alien isn’t here to pay up. What’s your excuse?” The words fell out of her mouth like a part she was playing.

  When she dropped her eyes to ours the skin on our forearms pebbled in reaction. Kara looked like a person trying to fade. I’d seen it before with an elderly woman at the old compound. To put it bluntly, Weavers could choose to die, though most of the time it only happened with the older population, not the younger. Maggie’s own father had chosen to fade when her mother passed from kidney failure.