Phoenix (24 page)

He slipped the phone back in his jacket
pocket and leaned over to pull a map from the glove box. Trying to
keep his movements as slight as possible, he unfolded it and found
his current location. He scanned the areas southeast of him and
found a number of alternate routes.

"She could be on any of these." He sighed and
leaned his head back on the headrest. "Think." He checked the map
again and saw he’d only traveled about five miles since leaving her
trail. "I’ll have to backtrack." He glanced up. A zombie had
somehow broken a side window of a car in the distance and was
clawing at the person sitting in the driver’s seat. "Yes,
backtracking
does
seem to be wise." He started the car and
pulled it into reverse. The dead gathered around the broken window
heard the engine and turned their heads his way. All except for the
one who was now halfway inside.

He turned around and headed back toward the
onramp. A few minutes later, the car sat idling at an intersection
a hundred feet away from the interstate. Rakburn looked down at the
map, then up through the windshield, then at the map again. He had
two choices, each leading to another two, so on and so forth. He
closed his eyes and tried to pick up her trail. It was disturbingly
faint, but there was enough left to tell him which route he needed.
Rakburn also noticed that he’d had little trouble extending his
senses. He’d simply opened that door and stepped through. He opened
his eyes and studied the area around him more closely.

No dead.

Rakburn tilted his head and considered those
times where his power had seemed to wane. Had he been surrounded by
more of the dead?

Yes
,
I
had
been
.

The fewer the dead, the stronger he was. He
would have to remember that. He set the map aside, turned right,
and drove as fast as safety allowed.

Every few miles he slowed down and focused on
her again, each time picking up a fainter and fainter trace. The
good news was he had indeed picked the correct road. The bad news
was her trail was going cold. If he could steer clear of
interference, then he’d have no reason to worry. Simply turn up his
power and nail her location. As it was, the dead were becoming so
widespread that it made his abilities erratic. And what if the
interference never stopped?

It didn’t make sense. To emit anything, even
the slightest psychic vibration, a being needed to be alive. That
was why a Psi couldn’t read something like a rock. While he had
never met them, Rakburn had heard of those who could even read
animal and plant life. Most Psi read humans, and those humans had
to be breathing. These…
zombies
…were not living, breathing
people. So how and why did they emanate a low hum all the time?

Was there something left of their minds? That
would explain it. Rakburn doubted this was the case, though he had
no other explanation.

She’s
gone
.

He wasn’t sure when her trail had
disappeared, but now it was completely gone and had been replaced
by buzzing.

Probably
while
I
was
ruminating
.

He stopped the car, hit the steering wheel
with his palms, and closed that door in his mind. The road was
empty. That made sense; it was a back road and some distance from
the city. There was nothing in front or behind him. No houses, no
cars, no pedestrians, no corpses. But he was apparently close
enough to some sort of urban area, for the dead to be restricting
him again. He gathered the map to him and tried to determine where
he was.

"Should have been paying attention," he
mumbled.

He was certain he hadn’t driven through the
next town on that road, and according to the map there was nothing
between the city he’d left behind and the next. He studied his
route and noted the turnoffs and ruled out any that veered from the
southeast. Fortunately, that left him with fewer possibilities than
he would have thought. Rakburn smiled and set the map aside.

Unless
they
change
course
.
What
if
she
turns
north
,
or
west
,
or
anywhere
that
isn’t
southeast
?

He gripped the wheel and forced several
breaths through his gritted teeth.

"Do not panic."

The phone rang.

He jumped and yelled out, then tore at the
phone in his jacket pocket.

"Don’t hang up," he whispered, then louder,
"Yes, hello!"

"Thomas? Did you— Are you okay?"

Rakburn took a slow breath. "Yes, yes, I’m
fine. What is your status?"

Sam laughed. "My status? You gotta be
shitting me. What’s yours?"

Rakburn didn’t understand. Sam should have
been safe. He
should
have already reported to a secure
location the second Operation Phoenix began, along with the five
other Board members.

"How is it you were able to call me?" Rakburn
asked instead.

"Ah, yes, well. You’d be surprised what we’re
able to do at Headquarters."

"Indeed." Rakburn ran a hand over his
face.

"I was told you didn’t report to the Ohio
CC."

"No, I have not."

"And why not?"

"I must find my granddaughter before
reporting."

Another laugh from the phone.
"Seriously?"

"Yes, sir."

Sam sighed. "Well, do you at least know where
she is?"

Rakburn grimaced. "Essentially."

"Essentially? You don’t have time for
essentially. We’ve already gotten reports of CCs being surrounded
and attacked. Not all of them, only a few, and the dead will never
breach the walls, but it isn’t safe for you to assume you’ll always
be able to reach your CC. Screw around out there long enough and
you may not be able to get in."

"I would rather take my chances out here than
be trapped within four walls with those things trying to get
inside."

"Thomas, please. We need you. We need you to
oversee the Columbus CC. Make sure everyone does their job."

"Agent Briggs is there, sir. Why must I
go?"

"Because Briggs is as idiot. Okay, maybe not
an idiot. But he’s not
you
. He’s a sidekick at best. We’re
hearing of staff going AWOL at a few of the CCs, and you’re just
the type of agent that can prevent that sort of thing. I guess
everyone
wants to be with their families right now."

"Then perhaps the Board should have allowed
the entire staff to bring their families, and not just the
agents."

Another sigh. "Thomas—"

"No. I will find her, and I will bring her
with me to Columbus. Until then, Agent Briggs will have to take
care of it."

"Right. Sure he will."

"Please elaborate on your status, sir."

"Well, we made it here. Everything went off
without a hitch. Then two of the Board killed themselves, so
there’s that. And then just what I’ve told you. Trying to manage
communications, direct supply shipments to the CCs, putting out one
fire after another. Wouldn’t be so bad if we weren’t down two
men."

"So it is as you expected."

"Yeah," Sam chuckled. "Exactly as I
expected."

Rakburn paused again. He was glad to hear
from his friend, but time was against him. "I must go."

"Take care of yourself. You know where we
are, you know where the CCs are. Get to Columbus before you get
yourself killed."

"Be safe, my friend."

Rakburn hung up and slipped the phone into
his jacket. He glanced over at the map and pulled back onto the
road.

* * *

After getting back on the road before dark
and driving for some time without finding a safe place, they pulled
over again, intent on sleeping in the cars. Laura was indeed having
a hard time using her viewing skills, and apologized over and over
for not being able to find a place yet. Brad argued about taking
the lead, since Adams was a more reliable source of information at
the moment than Laura, and when asked, Adams had said no, where
they’d stopped wasn’t safe. Mort told everyone to just get some
rest and they’d move on in the morning. Brad couldn’t sleep, but
was resting with his head leaned against his door.

"I’m telling you, this is bad," Adams
complained to the window. "We shouldn’t have stopped. Didn’t I say
that? You said, ‘Should we stop here?’ and what did I say?"

"You said no," Brad answered.

"Exactly. No. So why did we?"

"We’re just tired, man. A few hours can’t
hurt."

"Oh, really? Care to ask that in the
preferred manner?"

"Just get some rest."

Maybe an hour after the group pulled over,
the first mass of dead showed up.

It was dark, so Brad didn’t know how many
there were. He’d only had a few-seconds warning from his crazy
danger radar and Adams. They both jerked awake and Adams said, "Do
you hear that?" The next thing he knew, two dead people were
slamming themselves against his window. Each time their bodies made
contact with the glass, a brownish-black liquid sprayed out until
the window was so coated he couldn’t see. It didn’t take long for
his car to be surrounded. He assumed it was the same for Laura’s
car.

After a minute or two of that, feeling the
car being rocked, listening to the moaning and the wet slapping of
bodies hitting the exterior, taillights lit up in front of him.
Brad didn’t know where they were going, only that they were
leaving, so he started the car and stayed right on Laura’s bumper
until they left the dead behind. It seemed to Brad that the corpses
had come from the same direction that his party had traveled
through before stopping to sleep.

Everyone was incredibly shook up, so after
pulling over one more time to regroup, Mort decided to stay on the
road until they found a house or a building to get inside. That was
turning out to be easier said than done.

At this point, Brad would be happy with a
barn. He was so tired from driving he could hardly keep his eyes
open.

"Where the hell are we going?" Brad mumbled
to himself.

It was several hours after dark. They’d
turned off the main road and were driving up a winding hill road.
Judging from the number of potholes and crumbling berm, it was
clear the last time it had been paved was when Brad was still a
toddler. They passed a few houses, not much more than shacks. One
was fallen in. They’d all been vacant for some time. The trees were
thick, but thinning the closer they drove to the top. It wasn’t a
tall or large hill, definitely not a mountain, but Brad wasn’t used
to this kind of landscape, or off-roading. He didn’t like it.

"We ain’t in Kansas anymore." Adams’ words
were muffled. He leaned against the door, his forehead pressed to
the window.

Maybe
there’ll
be
something
up
here
, Brad thought. Out loud, he
asked, "Will we find something up here?"

"Yes."

They cleared the trees at the top of the hill
and the road ended. The top of the hill, or ridge, wasn’t flat. It
was banked and rolling. There was a house in the distance, built
between two of these banks. Brad could see a few outbuildings,
probably for storage. They were too small to be garages. There were
maybe a dozen vehicles parked all around, some in front of the
house, some on or along the banks on either side of the house.
Everywhere a person could pull in and not roll a car was taken. The
front windows of the house were lit up with a soft, orange
glow.

Adams sat up straight. "I don’t think this is
a good idea. Go ahead, ask me if this is a good idea."

"We’re out of options, so I’d say we don’t
have much of a choice." Brad stared ahead at Mort’s car and waited
to see what they would do. It was still sitting there, idling.
"Looks like an awful lot of people here. Maybe whoever owns this
place has been taking people in."

Adams snorted. "Or it’s one big family and
they kill anyone else who shows up."

"Maybe so. Is it one big family who kills
anyone who shows up?"

"…No."

"Don’t sound so disappointed."

Someone stepped out onto the small front
porch. He, or she, had a flashlight in one hand and a gun in the
other. The person shone the light over Mort and Laura’s car for a
long time, then over Brad’s. Finally the armed stranger started
walking toward them. Mort opened his door and stepped out.

Izzy leaned forward between the seats.
"What’s he doing?"

"Take it easy. I’m sure it’s fine. He could
probably feel the guy isn’t a threat," Brad answered. He looked at
Adams. "Is he?"

"No."

Brad watched Mort move forward toward what he
could now see was a man. They met each other halfway between the
cars and the impromptu parking lot around the house. Brad noticed
the man never aimed his gun at Mort. He simply carried it, barrel
down, at his side. Mort talked to the man, moved his hands around a
little, gesturing as they spoke. The man nodded a few times, Mort
turned and pointed back at the others, then went on to talk to the
stranger for several minutes. Finally the man shone his light on
the bank to Brad’s left, to a small space that might be wide enough
for two cars. Mort nodded along and looked in the direction the man
was indicating, then he turned and headed back to the car.

He made eye contact with Brad for just a
moment before getting in. Brad followed Laura around the mass of
vehicles strewn about the place. They crept up the embankment, and
Brad pulled alongside her. Both were sitting slightly uphill, but
it wasn’t so steep Brad thought the cars might kick out of gear and
drift backwards. Doors opened and the group gathered in the tight
space between.

"Just get what you absolutely need from your
bags," Mort said. "As you can probably tell, there won’t be much
room inside, and we won’t be staying long."