The Phoenix Curse: After - Part One

by D.R. Johnson

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  I dressed, taking care of what articles of clothing I chose to wear. It was cool now but would warm up soon, and the excursion would raise my body temperature. I decided the double tank tops I had slept in would do. I slipped on a pair of baggy jeans that I had actually found here in the downstairs bedroom, and then finished up with my heavy hiking boots. I was very attached to this pair of boots. I'd had them long enough to be considered well worn-in and they had a good few months of travel before they would be entering the realm of wearing out.

  After belting on my blades and slinging one of the empty backpacks over my shoulder, I cautiously left my room. Old houses creaked all the time and this one was no exception. I remained alert for anything that might be out of the ordinary. At least it wasn't a windy day out today.

  As I counted out my wait at the top of the stairs, I listened and watched for shadows moving on the lower walls. Nothing.

  Descending the stairs, I continued to move cautiously out of habit. The threat of having company at this point was slim. The freaks never made much noise themselves, as they had all lost the ability to communicate when they turned, but they were still noisy due to their clumsiness.

  This house had been clean when I found it. It had remained untouched in the middle of the ruined neighborhood. All the doors had been locked and the windows unbroken. It was pristine, at least until I climbed to the second floor and broke into one of those windows myself.

  Luckily, I had found an extra set of keys in a kitchen drawer. I liked to lock up while I was out on my little savaging runs. I was almost completely sure that there was no one here to break in, and even if there was someone else in Dallas, the likelihood of them finding me was barely worth considering. Being able to lock my doors just made me feel better.

  Per my routine, I made a quick sweep of all the rooms on the lower floor, saving the kitchen for last. All was clear, as expected.

  Peering out the glass window in the door, I made sure the back yard looked clear. Once satisfied that everything looked exactly as I remembered, I opened the door and stepped out into the sunlight.

  There was a pool in the back yard, and this one was, thankfully, drained of water. I walked to the edge to see the normal gang of freaks milling around inside. At my last count, there had only been five, but now they'd added a new member. Milling around in the deep end was a teenage boy in a torn red shirt, bloodstained from an attack. That meant he was a wanderer. None of the other freaks here had been turned by bite. Whatever had turned the Dallas population had been airborne.

  The newcomer was very young, maybe thirteen or fourteen at the most, and looked to still have a full head of hair. He was probably one of the youngest freaks I'd seen yet, and judging by his appearance, hadn't been turned that long ago. There was one merciful thing about this curse. You never saw a child freak. Children that became infected normally died within hours. Their little bodies couldn't handle being turned into these monsters.

  The freaks in the pool might be able to find their way out, but I'd never seen them try. Only four had been in there when I first got here, and the most I'd ever seen them do was turn in my direction if they noticed me. I figured the boy's traveling days were over now.

  It had been disturbing at first, having the freaks right outside my door, so why would I pick this house out of all the houses Dallas has to offer? It's not that simple. There are matters of dilapidation I have to consider, as well as finding a house far enough away from a deathpool that I didn't find myself gagging constantly. It was all about location.

  Location, location, location.

  It seemed every yard in Texas had a pool, and the pools that actually still had water in them were the worst. When the freaks fell in, they drowned. The bodies bloated, rotted, and turned the water into a murky, chunky sludge. Then there's the smell... Oh god, the unbearable smell. Not much smelled pretty in this world anymore, but a fresh deathpool would knock you on your ass.

  I shook my head thinking about it. Turning from the pool, I decided to get on with my day.

  Normally, I enjoyed exploring the neighborhood to see what I could scavenge. About five miles away, there was an old supercenter grocery store that was a goldmine of items. However, the trail of freaks I picked up from pushing a shopping cart that distance was unnerving. I only did that once.

  After that episode, I chose to exploit the nearby houses instead. It was easy to get to them and back home without drawing a lot of attention. Making shorter trips and filling one pack at a time kept me busy most days. Also, unlike the other cities that people had easy access to, these houses hadn't been stripped and vandalized. They all looked to be missing the loving care and upkeep of our former lives, but windows weren't broken and doors weren't opened, so their precious contents hadn't been exposed to Mother Nature. All I had to contend with was a little dust, mold, and mildew.

  There was a house about a block over I wanted to revisit. I had been there a few weeks ago, and remembered seeing some books I wasn't able to take with me at the time. With the lack of electricity-fueled entrainment, books had become a decent commodity in the smaller settlements. I could use them as trade goods when I moved on.

  Usually the freaks ignored me if I could avoid them. If I kept a ten-foot distance between us, and moved slowly, sometimes they would never even notice me. They still didn't do much if they did notice me, but their curious stares were bad enough. It was disconcerting to look into those red eyes. I knew they saw something, but any human thought behind those eyes was gone. The only thing that motivated them was food and rage.

  The initial hopes that these things would starve and die away had faded within the first year. What was left of humanity had assumed they were using us for food, but that wasn't exactly the case. Of course, if they were hungry when they caught someone uninfected, they didn't let that meat go to waste, but we couldn't figure out what they were using as a food source when humans weren't available.

  I heard rumors from other survivors, but my little stint here in Texas had really been eye-opening. For starters, it looked like the freak population had slimmed down as a whole, but they weren't starving by any means. When I noticed they were hungry, which seemed to me that didn't happen often, they would eat anything they could get their hands on. Trash. Animals that foolishly wandered too close. Each other. Themselves.

  It was disgusting, and I'd witnessed it all with my own eyes. Even the freaks in my pool had scars where they'd taken bites out of each other. Once I got over my initial disgust, I paid a little bit more attention to the wounds. I was in utter shock to see how quickly they actually healed. If a freak was trapped by itself and had to take a bite out of its own arm for sustenance, they would regenerate within a week. That was plenty of time for them to heal up before they'd take another bite.

  I did realize that I might possess some of this insanely powerful regeneration, but the closest I got to testing it was pressing the blade to my skin. I just couldn't bring myself to draw blood. I also still ate on a daily basis, although they were small, rationed meals, and I still felt pain. Another difference I clung to was my full head of red hair, where most freaks looked to be going bald.

  Up to this point, I had never really had an interest in the characteristics I shared with the freaks. Now it was gnawing at me, and I couldn't shake it. At least I didn't share their rage.

  Whatever it was that differentiated the freaks from the rest of humanity was something they could sense, and it angered them beyond any madness I'd ever witnessed. They would attack the instant they sensed anyone not like them, and their growls incited others nearby to join them until they became a swarm. It was commonly referred to as a frenzy, like they were sharks or piranhas. I guess it fit.

  They were fast, they didn't tire, and they felt no pain. How could humanity stand up against these self-sustaining beasts? Some days, I remembered thinking it was only a matter of time before we were all gone. Our biggest weapon against them was their own stupidity and si
ngle mindedness.

  And maybe me. I only hoped I wasn't the only one.

  I knew I was in a town called Grand Prairie. I could see the Dallas skyscrapers from the neighborhood I was in. From what I could tell once I made it past the barricades circling the outer city, this whole area had been virtually untouched by humans since the New Year’s Day when everything went to shit. I couldn't imagine anyone even trying to come in here, at least not this deep anyway. The milling freaks were too thick.

  This is what made it safe for someone like me. I didn't want to be surprised by someone else showing up in the middle of my stomping grounds. The possibility that there were others out there like me hadn't escaped me. On one hand, they could be just as evil and consumed by darkness that they made the freaks look sane, and on the other hand... Hope.

  The thought ate at me and ate at me. It urged me to move on, and search for the answers to my questions, but I didn’t trust most of the other people I came across. At least the freaks weren't malicious. They didn't rape and steal.

  I trudged through the overgrowth from backyard to backyard, hopping fences as I went and doing my best to avoid the yards with deathpools. I couldn't use the actual roads since most of them were so overcrowded with freaks it was hard to move about unnoticed. A lot of them tended to stand or walk in large open areas. I did pass a few that had managed to make their way into the backyards. It was unlikely they'd ever find their way out again.

  The first time I was traveling alone and discovered a neighborhood like this, I had killed those that were trapped so I wouldn't have to look at them anymore. It didn't take long for me to realize I hadn't fully thought that idea through. Having no real way to dispose of the bodies, the smell of rotting flesh drove me in search of a new camp. Avoiding them seemed to be the best option while I was alone.

  I actually used the demeanor of the freaks to judge what was going on around me. If they became drawn to something, other than me, of course, I would definitely need to find the source to determine if it was some kind of threat. Also, they served as a sort of humanity alarm. They would start growling as soon as they sensed someone uninfected, although I doubted they would have a reason to frenzy this deep in the city. All the freaks I passed were maintaining status quo.

  "Just another day at the office, Bob," I thought to myself but didn't speak. I hadn't spoken much since Joss and I separated. We decided he would be safer in this little settlement we had run across out east of the city.

  I urged myself on, not wanting to think about Joss. I missed him. Sometimes I thought I had failed him, and had failed Seth. I had only promised to get him somewhere safe, so that he could be safe. I never promised I would raise him.

  I shook my head to shake out the memories and kept moving. It seemed like no time had passed before I was at my destination. It was a small, blue, one-story house. If I got back early enough, I would still have time to scout a few other houses for more goods. I doubted I would be able to take everything with me when I left, but at least I could pick out the most useful items.

  I circled the house once, taking the time to check out the perimeter before going in. I always tried to proceed with caution into any enclosed area. You never knew what could be in there.

  All seemed clear. No broken windows and both of the doors were shut. Coming around to the back of the house, I stopped again at the kitchen door and listened before turning the knob. The usual sounds greeted me. I pushed the door open cautiously, barely wide enough to stick my head in to peer around the kitchen. Everything was as I had left it, as best as I could remember.

  I slipped in, closing the door quietly behind me and pulling the pack from my shoulders to toss on the countertop. Books were my main haul for this trip, but I decided to rummage through the kitchen drawers and cabinets to see if I could find anything rare and useful. It was always worth a look, and I honestly couldn't remember if I'd already checked these or not.

  I came across a drawer that seemed to be packed with every assortment of small items you could think of. I smiled a little to myself, thinking about all the other drawers I had found nearly identical to this. It was the proverbial junk drawer.

  I yanked at the drawer, finding myself in a brief tug of war with the tracks that didn't want to let it go, and then turned with the intention of dumping all the contents out on the table.

  As soon as I looked up, I froze. Panic and adrenaline shot through me as my grip on the draw instinctively tightened. Lucky that, or I would have dropped it.

  In front of me stood a freak, a creature that used to be a woman. It was standing so close to me I could almost reach out and touch it. As its blood-red eyes bore into mine, the contents of the drawer started to rattle.