The Phoenix Descent

by Chuck Grossart

  “Agree,” he said. “Litsa, danger or no danger, we need to go back to Beagle to retrieve some items. We’d like you to accompany us.”

  “It is safer in the dark.”

  “But we can’t see in the dark,” Sif said. “Not as well as you can.”

  “Then I will guide you there. Right now.”

  “Right now?”

  “That is what I said.”

  Sif saw a glimmer of that condescending smile again, but this time, it didn’t bother her. She was starting to respect Litsa for what she was—a tough, no-nonsense fighter who wasn’t willing to let her guard down. “I’m game. Hunter?”

  “Yep. Let’s go.” He stood and brushed the dirt from his legs.

  Litsa turned toward Conrad and Geller, who were silently watching the entire time. Sif saw from the looks on their faces neither one of them thought what Litsa was doing was a good idea. “I will take them to their Beagle. You will watch over Talia.”

  “That is—” Conrad started to say, but Litsa cut him off.

  “You will watch over Talia,” Litsa said, her voice forceful. “Understood?”

  Conrad nodded, and cut his eyes toward Sif. She saw there wasn’t an ounce of trust there.

  “I know you don’t trust us, even after we saved your girl there,” Sif said, “but you have nothing to worry about. We aren’t going to hurt any of you.” Sif was a little surprised when she heard Litsa laugh.

  “As if you could,” Litsa said as she tossed a torch toward Sif. “Carry this, and try not to light your hair on fire.”

  Sif grabbed the torch in midair. “Good one. Don’t worry. I won’t.”

  Litsa handed Hunter a torch, as well.

  “Follow me,” Litsa said as she turned and moved toward the Dak’s entrance.

  “She got you,” Hunter whispered as he walked beside Sif.

  She turned and saw him grinning from ear to ear. “Really? You enjoyed that, did you?”

  “She’s pretty sharp, Sif, especially considering the kind of life she’s lived.”

  “If you’d told me the planet would be wiped out by some sort of mutated monster-fungus,” Sif said, “I’d have said modern man was done for—no grocery stores, no Internet, no nothing—but they survived. She survived.”

  Litsa was a few strides ahead, her torch lighting the way.

  “I wonder if all women now are like her,” Sif said.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s like Betty Rubble went to Ranger school, that’s what I mean.”

  “Yeah, she’s tough,” Hunter said. “A lot like someone else I know.”

  Sif quickly changed the subject. “Once we get what we need from the ship, we need to think about getting our hands on a radio. And you’re thinking Ellsworth, right?”

  “Exactly. It’ll take a few days to get there on foot, but it’s our best bet.”

  “Agreed. Hopefully we can talk Ranger Rubble up there into coming along. She knows the dangers out there better than we do.”

  “I think she’s beginning to trust us. Your emergency surgery back there really made an impression.”

  “I hope so.” Sif was still angry knowing an innocent girl was shot by people who took whole families away, for what reason she could only wonder. “What’s your theory on the Takers?”

  “No clue. Litsa mentioned they had flying machines, though, and Ellsworth has a runway. Maybe we’ll find some answers there, along with a radio.”

  “As long as we can get in touch with Lucas, I’ll be happy.”

  As they neared the Dak’s mouth, Sif felt her heart rate increase. The Riy were out there, and she wanted to see one—to see a hive—for herself. In a way, everything up to this point seemed like a strange dream, but seeing the Riy with her own eyes would make it real.

  Chapter 33

  Once more, Sif was struck by the air. The night was calm, the sky clear. Above, the dome of stars twinkled brightly. It seemed as if she could reach out her hand and touch them. Decades with no pollution must have made a difference.

  “The Riy are less dangerous at night, but they are still a threat,” Litsa said. “Follow me closely, and listen to what I say. If there is a hive nearby, there are usually a few drones close to the main body. Nighttime sentinels. They will be sluggish but can still react. And if they do, the jumpers will come.”

  “Jumpers?” Sif asked. This was new.

  “Pods ejected from the hive when the drones are triggered. They are sensitive to heat and motion, but like the drones, they will be sluggish, also.”

  “What do these jumpers do?”

  “They . . . jump,” Litsa said, her voice betraying her confusion of how people who came from the old times—where things were more advanced—couldn’t grasp the meaning of a simple word.

  “Okay, got it,” Sif said. “They jump. What do they do after they jump?”

  “If they land near you, and they sense you, they explode.”

  “Explode.” Sif didn’t like the sound of that.

  “Yes, they explode,” Litsa said, tilting her head slightly. “You know what that means, don’t you?”

  Sif couldn’t help but laugh. “I know what explode means.” She paused, then yelled, “Boom!” Sif grinned when Litsa jumped a little.

  “Yes, like that,” Litsa said, obviously annoyed at Sif’s attempt to startle her. “They explode and cover whatever is nearby with the black mist. If you’re close, you die.”

  “More spores,” Hunter said. “Fruiting bodies.”

  Sif turned to him. “Fruiting what?”

  “Fruiting bodies. Some forms of fungus produce pods that burst open, releasing spores.”

  “Did they teach you that in pilot training?”

  “Nope. High school biology, Miss Higgins.”

  “We are wasting time,” Litsa interrupted. “We only have a few hours of darkness left, and I don’t want to be out here when the sun comes up. Now, you said you landed your ship close to where you saw our fire, correct?”

  “Correct,” Hunter said.

  “It is this way. And do not make any more loud noises. They’re sensitive to sound, too.” Litsa took off at a slow run. Hunter and Sif looked at each other, then ran to catch up.

  Once they neared the crops, Litsa slowed, keeping her torch out in front of her. Sif and Hunter stayed close behind.

  “We will go around the crops, in case they are in the fields.”

  Sif looked at the rows of corn standing tall and silent in the dark. She was glad they wouldn’t be going through the rows, as nothing good ever came of walking into a cornfield in the dead of night, at least in the movies.

  “You told us you harvested at night, right?” Hunter asked. It was one of the few questions Litsa was willing to answer while they were on their way to the Dak.

  “We do, but there are many of us, many more torches. And I don’t want to lose you in there.”

  As they made their way around the fields, the moon rose in the east, casting an eerie glow over the shadowy landscape. Litsa stopped in her tracks and raised her hand in a silent gesture to stop. She crouched, and so did Sif and Hunter.

  “What is it?” Hunter asked.

  “The Riy. They are near.”

  Sif was surprised by the icy fingers that ran up her back, like a spider crawling toward her neck. “Where?”

  She watched as Litsa tilted her head and sniffed the air. Once. Twice. Three times.

  Sif sniffed, too, and she caught the scent. “Jesus Christ.”

  Litsa stood and turned toward them. Sif was again struck by her eyes, which seemed even more luminous out here in the open. “There is a hive, probably to the north. We will avoid it.”

  “Good idea,” Sif said. “So, that stench. Is that what they smell like?”

  “Yes. It is the scent of the Riy.”

  Sif had smelled something similar before, and the memory of it sickened her. It was dirty, unclean, reminding her of a bombed-out hotel room in Kuwait where they found the
body of a dead insurgent. He had been there for a while, too. To her, the Riy smelled like a decomposing body, but there was something else, too. An animal smell, like a cattle feedlot or a pig farm. “How close is it?”

  “Depending on its size, maybe fifty yards or so. Closer, if it’s a smaller one.”

  “And the drones, they’re nearby, too?”

  “They should be, yes.”

  Sif’s desire to see one up close suddenly seemed less important than it had just a little while ago. Out here, at night, she wanted to get to the ship, collect what they needed, and get back to the Dak. Quickly. “Okay, Litsa. Lead the way.”

  They swung south for a short time, then turned back toward the location of the fire. As they approached a hill, Litsa stopped, again sniffing the air. Sif could still taste the hive’s stench and knew she probably would for days.

  “This is where we fought the hive, right over that rise,” Litsa said. “It was down below, in a draw. The fire was here.”

  “And it’s empty now? The draw, I mean?” Sif asked.

  “It should be. I cannot smell the Riy here, but the wind has shifted. We will avoid the draw, too, just in case.”

  Sif wished she had a pair of night-vision goggles and wondered if they might be able to find a pair or two at Ellsworth.

  Hunter looked around, trying to get his bearings. Beagle was no more than a quarter mile away, probably to the northeast. “Beagle is in that direction,” he said, pointing.

  Sif looked to the northeast, wondering why she couldn’t see the ship’s perimeter lights by now. “Hunter, I don’t see the lights.”

  “I know. I noticed that, too. We should be able to see her by now.”

  “Your ship has lights?” Litsa asked.

  “Yes,” Hunter replied. “Exterior floodlights that illuminate the area around—”

  “They are bright, yes?”

  Sif already knew where Litsa was going. “The Riy are attracted to the lights, aren’t they.”

  “Yes,” Litsa said. “They live in the sunlight.”

  Hunter hung his head. “We might not be able to see it, because it could be covered by—”

  “—the Riy,” Sif said, finishing his statement for him. “Well, isn’t this just friggin’ wonderful.” Litsa said it was too dangerous to travel during the day, but nighttime wasn’t turning out to be any less risky.

  Hunter thought for a moment, then said, “We’ll come back during daylight. If they’re there, maybe they’ll move away from the ship when the sun is out.”

  “No,” Litsa said sharply. “We will go now.”

  “But, if the Riy are there . . .”

  Litsa stepped closer to Hunter. “If the Riy are there. You won’t know until we get closer.”

  “You’re still willing to take us in there, even with the danger?”

  Litsa held up her bow. “That is what this is for.” She turned to Sif. “You said you wanted to see the Riy up close, yes?”

  Sif felt an immediate adrenaline rush, washing away the fear she felt earlier. “Yes. I do.”

  “And I want to see your Beagle. So, we go.”

  Sif took a few steps toward Litsa and placed her hand on her shoulder, glad to see that Litsa didn’t shrink away from her touch. “Then what are we waiting for?”

  They moved slowly, cautiously, toward Beagle’s touchdown point. Litsa led the way, stopping every so often to smell the night air. The wind had died down, so if they approached a hive, they would be close before they smelled it. All three of them held their torches out in front, lighting the way as best they could.

  And then they smelled it.

  Not the Riy, but the scent of burnt vegetation.

  Hunter looked around, holding his torch to the ground. He could see the blast marks from Beagle’s engines. He reached down and felt the scorched earth with his fingers, hardened from the intense heat.

  “This is where you landed, yes?” Litsa asked.

  Hunter and Sif stared at each other.

  This was where they landed.

  But Beagle was gone.

  Out of the corner of her eye, Sif saw Litsa touch the tip of an arrow to her torch, throw her torch to the ground, and bring the flaming arrow to her bow. One fluid motion, well practiced, far too fast for Sif to react. She thinks we’re lying. There was no ship, so Litsa surely felt as if it had all been a trick, a ruse to drag her away from the Dak. Sif clenched her teeth and closed her eyes, hating that it would end this way. She felt the heat of the flames as the arrow screamed by her cheek, and then caught the scent, heavy and sickening. She heard Litsa yell a single word.

  “Run!”

  Chapter 34

  Sif stumbled forward, instinctively holding her breath. Hunter was moving, too, covering his mouth and nose with the palm of his hand.

  Another arrow flew from Litsa’s bow, a streak of orange light passing by, sounding like a bird flapping its wings as the flames twisted and turned in the night air, if only for a moment. Sif heard it hit something, thud to a stop. Behind her.

  She was crawling forward on her hands and knees as fast as she could. She knew she should keep moving but couldn’t help but glance over her shoulder. She wanted to see it. To make it all real.

  It was there, just as Litsa described it. It was illuminated by the flames between its shoulders, and Sif could see every detail. Black against black, slimy, the firelight dancing along its glistening surface.

  A drone.

  It stood about four feet tall on stubby legs, long arms raised into the air, with thin feelers where there should be fingers, wildly flexing and whipping about. Even in the dark, Sif could see a white row of teeth, a death rictus. The bulging chest peeled back, opening like the petals of an iris. Litsa sent two arrows into the chest before it could release its spores.

  It finally became real.

  Sif felt Hunter grab her arm and drag her to her feet. Together they ran after Litsa, who had stopped momentarily to make sure they were behind her. “Follow me,” Litsa said. “We have to move fast.”

  Hunter didn’t release his grip on her arm and continued pulling her forward. He held his torch out in front, trying to light their way. She watched Litsa run through the night, clearing clumps of brush and rocks like a deer, her torch in one hand, bow and arrows in the other. Sif could see Litsa’s eyes glowing bright every time she looked back at them, like an animal catching the headlights of a passing car. She waved her torch, imploring them to follow, to run faster. This was where Litsa was most at home, Sif realized, a warrior in her element. This land was Litsa’s cockpit, her arrows her Sidewinders. They were both fighters, Litsa and she, born in different worlds, but sharing the intoxicating, quickening heat in their veins when it was time to fight. Hunter was right—she and Litsa were cut from the same rough cloth.

  Sif glanced over her shoulder, saw the drone fully engulfed in flames, and in the brightening firelight, could see dark shapes moving in the shadows behind it. More drones. They had stumbled right into a hive’s advance guard. When the drones are triggered, the jumpers will come.

  And they did.

  She heard a soft thump off to her left, something hitting the ground—she looked, but didn’t see anything. Then another thump, again to the left, and closer, louder. This time, she saw a small, dark, roundish shape, with thin feelers extending from its surface. In a momentary brightness from Hunter’s torch, she watched it flatten itself, then suddenly contract, forcing itself into the air. Jumping.

  Ahead, Litsa quickly dropped to one knee and brought her bow to bear. She was aiming it above them, shooting into the air. She loosed the arrow, and it hit something right above their heads. Sparks filled the sky as it fell, catching fire.

  Falling right toward them.

  Sif pulled her arm from Hunter’s grip and shoved him, hard, pushing him out of the way. She shielded her face as the jumper landed on top of her. She fell to the ground and rolled as the jumper slid off her back. It was but a few feet away, the shaft of Si
f’s arrow sticking out of its undulating body, flames licking the oily surface and beginning to spread from where it impacted. A scream begin to rise in her throat, but she couldn’t breathe—the force of the impact had knocked the wind from her lungs.

  She saw feelers extend from the jumper’s skin, whipping around in the air, and then, as one, stop. Each one was pointing right at her.

  She turned and ran toward Litsa.

  And then she heard the pop.

  Sif closed her eyes, covered her mouth and nose with her hand, and stumbled forward, feeling a sudden wave of heat from behind. She felt a hand on her arm and was pulled forward, trying to keep her feet under her. She felt another hand, smaller but just as strong, grip her other arm.

  Her lungs were screaming for relief, but she fought the urge to take a breath. If the mist—if the spores—were on her skin, taking a breath now would be suicide. She kept her eyes closed tight, afraid that the spores might enter her bloodstream that way, too.

  She ran, eyes closed, letting Hunter and Litsa guide her forward, dragging her when she stumbled on rocks or tangled her feet in the brush. The fire in her chest was too strong to fight anymore.

  She broke free of Hunter and Litsa’s grasp, stopped in place, and took a breath.

  “We cannot stop now. What are you doing?” Litsa stepped forward and reached for Sif’s arm.

  “Get away—from me,” Sif yelled, pulling her arm back. “Just leave me—here.” She was taking huge gulps of air, and it felt so good, even though she knew she might be killing herself with each breath. She tried to stand as still as she could, not wanting to shake any of the spores off her body, where they might get to Hunter or Litsa.

  Hunter stood off to the side, his eyes wide with fear. “Listen to her, Sif. We have to go.”

  “I’m covered in spores. Did you not see what just happened back there?”

  Litsa jumped at her, grabbed both of her arms. Her luminous eyes were inches from Sif’s face. “You are clean.”