The Phoenix Curse: After - Part One

by D.R. Johnson

  ~ ~ ~ ~

  I was free! The drive out of the neighborhood had gone better than I'd expected. Only one group of freaks was large enough to cause an issue, but the Murano was able to push them out of the way before I got overwhelmed. The problem I was having was remembering my way out of the city. I didn't have a map, and had never been to the Dallas area before, not to mention that my trip here was full of meandering paths and exploration. I couldn't begin to backtrack now.

  I angled westward, and even though I had to dodge cars and freaks as I came across them, I was able to weave my way through the streets until I finally found an interstate. I-30 the signs said, but I didn't recognize it at all. That didn't matter. As long as the way wasn't blocked by cars, I should be able to navigate the highway.

  One thing I had found out about Dallas, whatever had caused the turn here had been so quick there was no rush to exit. No attempts at an evacuation of any kind. That meant there weren't a lot of spots on the interstates that were completely blocked. Another thing I found out in Dallas, you could broil a freak alive in a closed car just by the heat of the summer sun. They did not regenerate fast enough to outlive that.

  Most of the cars I had come across had mostly rotten skeletons in them. I didn't even want to imagine what the highways smelled like that first summer. It probably rivaled the death pools in comparison. I could smell the decay, but it faded into the background quickly enough. Nothing smelled pretty anymore.

  Rolling along at a nice pace, I studied what used to be the bustling landscape of Dallas. Maybe I had wasted my time holed up in that neighborhood so long. Maybe I should have moved around more.

  I dismissed the thought, knowing that I needed the safety of my house so I could recharge my will to keep fighting. There were too many times recently I had thought about giving up. Losing Seth. Leaving Joss. I needed time to forget about the mistakes I made, heal from the wounds, and find the strength to move on.

  I was lost in contemplation when I spied an old amusement park coming up on my left. That was something I hadn't thought about in a long while. I slowed the SUV to a stop, knowing it would be safe. There were no freaks here. Taking the time to look over all the rides I could see from the road, I imagined them moving again; the exhilaration of the roller coasters, the serenity of the Ferris wheel. As I stared at the relics of a lost past, I wondered if the world could have anything like this again.

  Heaving a heavy sigh, I continued my journey. After seeing the amusement park, I lost interest in the buildings and wanted to put it all behind me. I was actually surprised how clear the road was and made good time. The SUV was running smoothly, too. That in itself was a huge relief.

  I drove through what used to be Fort Worth and was passing through a place called Arlington Heights when I saw something that caught my eye.

  Army tanks.

  I immediately pulled off the interstate to investigate since this was not a normal sighting. I might be able to find some very useful supplies here as it looked like the vehicles were positioned to attack, or possibly to hold something off. Maybe this had been a rescue attempt and it was defeated so quickly the military never let word get out. It wouldn't have been the only time that happened.

  I rolled alongside the line of tanks, five in all, and peered around. The usual number of freaks roamed close by, some wearing army fatigues, and the handful that picked up interest in the Murano were coming closer. I had some flares in my glove box I could use for a distraction if absolutely necessary, but I wanted to save them if I could. That might not be an option, though, since I didn't have the material ready for me to build another mini bonfire.

  The truck was surrounded pretty quickly, so I had to wait a bit for some of them to get bored and wander off before I could get out. I sat there for at least thirty minutes after I'd killed the engine with only one window barely cracked. The car was stifling hot, and I was dripping with sweat. I finally had to chance opening the door and test their reactions. Thankfully, I got what I had been hoping for. They ignored me.

  Slipping out of the truck, I pushed the door shut as quietly as I could. As I turned to the tanks, my hand went instinctively to the hilt of my knife as I looked around.

  I had seen a few tanks since the world ended, but I wasn't sure if I wanted to open these up with so many freaks around. I assumed there would be some army face-eaters still inside the tanks, but I was also banking on them being long dead from the hot Texas sun. It would be a broiler in those things.

  If they were in there rotting, then so were their weapons. I couldn't pass that up.

  I climbed to the top of the first one I came to and started to fiddle with the hatch. I tugged on it and thought it might be locked from the inside when I couldn’t get it to budge a centimeter, but after one hard pull I was rewarded with a loud squeal. I groaned inwardly as many of the freaks turned to me and started meandering up to the edge of the tank, but there was nothing I cared to do about that now.

  Pulling up the hatch, I smiled a little at my good fortune when I didn’t smell decay from the inside. I poked my head in, watching for any movement. When I saw nothing of interest, I lowered myself into the belly of the tank to have a look around.

  Nothing. The tank was picked clean, which I found very odd. I would assume there wouldn't be enough time to pull out all the supplies and leave the tank itself here. After one last, perplexed look around, I hauled myself out of the hatch.

  Greeted by my audience of red-eyed freaks, I climbed back out into the daylight. Briefly, I felt an overwhelming compulsion to kill them all. I considered it, knowing I was at a good vantage point to start a fight, but I also knew it could take hours. Hours I didn't want to waste here while I could be driving out of the city to my new destination.

  Where am I going?

  I hadn't even considered where I was going. I had just started driving, not caring where I would end up once I was out of here. I bit my lip to stop myself from grumbling as it dawned on me. Deep down inside me, I did know.

  Joss.

  The idea solidified in my mind as I sat on top of the hot metal for at least twenty minutes, waiting for the opportunity to tank jump. I met the same resistance and the same loud squealing from the hatch on the second tank, and I cringed again. Executing the same routine, I poked my head in to look around, saw nothing, dropped into the tank, saw even more nothing, and climbed back out again, perplexed by it all. I sat on the tank with a thump, running my fingers through my wavy hair and wondering what to do now.

  "Mmmhmm." A voice, not my own, not a freak, had me spinning around in a crouching position on the top of the tank. My knife was pulled and my heart was thumping crazy in my chest. A human voice was the last thing I expected to hear. "Making enough noise out here to wake the dead, missy."

  I saw him then, standing about ten paces beyond the group of freaks. An old man wearing ragged overalls, a beige undershirt, and a Rangers baseball cap. His thumbs were casually hooked into the lip of his pockets, and he looked completely relaxed. Heartbeat after heartbeat thundered in my chest before he broke the silence again.

  "Well," he started, seeming to be lost in contemplation. "Guess I could walk away and we can pretend we never saw each other, or ya could come down from there and we can have ourselves a little chat. What ya say, missy?"

  My eyes darted to the freaks that were surrounding the tank I was on, and it dawned on me in that moment that none of them had reacted to him.

  "I'm assuming that you're immune or these assholes would be in a rage by now," he continued, taking a few steps closer to me. "Ya care to come down or should I just walk away?"

  My mind was blown. He was immune like me. I glanced at my knife and back to him. He caught the movement and easily slipped his hands into his pockets then pulled them out, showing me they were empty besides a red-handled pocketknife that he held up for me to see.

  "This all I got, missy, if that's what you're worried 'bout." He gestured to my knife, dagger, and gun. "Looks like ya got
enough to take out this whole bunch here if ya had a mind to. However, I'd like to ask that ya don't. I can't abide the smell and don't have it in me to be buryin' all the bodies. If ya'd like to have that talk, ya keep all your weapons on ya if that makes ya feel better. Just thought a talk would be nice. I've been alone for quite some time now."

  I relented, moving to a standing position. I noticed that the freaks were watching me avidly, but paid the old man no mind. I used my knife to gesture toward them.

  "How do you get them to ignore you?" I asked. My voice sounded strange in my ears. I hadn't said that many words together in a very long time.

  He chuckled. "Because they're use ta me. I live just there." He pointed a crooked finger at some houses that were behind the tanks. "I talk to the bastards and they don't even notice me when I walk around outside now. Curious 'bout ya, is what they are. And you up there making all that racket, calling them to ya. Did ya expect any less?"

  I looked at them as they stood above them, blocking me from leaving the tank from any direction. The old man snorted and walked forward. My eyebrows lifted in utter surprise as he started shoving them out of the way, and they went where he pushed them. No moans, no reaction, just shuffling steps as they wandered off. He looked up at me from the base of the tank.

  "Well, ya comin' now, missy?"

  I swallowed hard and nodded.