Rise of the Phoenix (The Phoenix Trilogy Book 1) (3 page)

The office was small enough to be a closet that would have made any woman from Beverly Hills cringe. They could fit only a few outfits in here, and maybe a matching pair of shoes. There was a small desk with a computer monitor sitting on it and on the opposite end a file cabinet. The safe was under the desk, which she found by knocking her shin into the open door. She sat in the rolling chair and held onto her throbbing leg.

She reached inside the metal box and pulled out two moneybags full of cash. “Waste not.” She took a stack with a rubber band tied around it and held it to the open flame on the stove. The kitchen lit up with an orange glow that sent shadows across the walls. She found a broom leaning in the corner and secured the rest of the cash to the broom handle and held it over the gas flame turning it into an instant torch.

Phoenix searched the rest of the office and slid the one drawer open under the desk. A flashlight rolled toward her. She clicked the button on the back of the light and it came to life. “This is my lucky day.” She clicked it on and off several times like a child getting the toy they had begged Santa for. Not wanting to waste the batteries she slipped it into the inside pocket of her jacket

Holding the cash torch up, she scanned the inside of the freezer. She rubbed her hands across the stacks of paper wrapped food to test the temperature; it was frozen solid. She knew she was in danger and contemplated leaving, but her rumbling stomach insisted she stay. “At least I’ll die with a full belly,” she said picking up a paper wrapped package.

Phoenix pulled the paper back eager to see what was inside. A smile that stretched from ear to ear grew as she looked down upon one very large steak. “Definitely worth the danger,” she thought.

She found a pan just flame on her temporary torch burned out and its remnants fluttered to the floor. The room was dark with the exception of the blue flame of the stove burner. There was just enough light to cook her meal.

She let the pan sit on the gas flame for a bit and then tossed the steak in. Since it was frozen she flipped it often and found a lid to cover it insuring it would thaw faster. Her nose danced as she took in the smell of the cooking flesh. Without using her handy, new flashlight she poked the meat with a fork to check its doneness. The stack of plates rattled as she took one from the top and slid the large piece of steak onto it. As her fork held it in place, she sliced through with a steak knife and lowered her nose down to it to enjoy the scent. She took her time with the first bite. “Mmmm,” she said as she tilted her head back in bliss savoring the meat. After the initial shock of the tasty bite wore off she devoured the entire thing in minutes. With her stomach finally giving up the verbal protest, she went to the freezer to pack a few extra steaks for the road.

She was on her way to the bathroom to see if she could get cleaned up a little when a loud thump had her spinning on her heels. In the darkness all she heard was a table collapse before sliding a few feet across the tile floor of the dining area. This time she did use the flashlight. The beam scanned back and forth across the main dining room. She froze when it illuminated a pair of glowing eyes, low to the ground. Sliding her rifle from her back, she walked slowly toward the animal keeping the light and muzzle pointed toward it. A low growl emanated from deep in the chest of the large animal giving her warning that it was willing to fight. When she was about three feet away, a ten-foot gator pushed itself across the tile toward her. With its mouth agape it hissed and lunged, eager for its own food source. Though she hadn’t encountered a gunman protecting the stash she had just raided, the place did have a guard and he was about ten feet long. “Not a fight I want to have,” she said as it lunged again. Phoenix’s strong legs carried her out of the restaurant and away from a creature that was probably starving just as much as she was before she ate the steak dinner.

Keeping her rifle handy she wanted to see if there was anything else she could scavenge while in the city. She spotted a pharmacy and jogged in that direction, leaving footprints in the ash covered street.

The pharmacy interior was brighter than it had been in the restaurant since the front consisted of a large plate glass window. She pressed her face against the glass and saw that the inside was full of shelves that had been raided, but she would give it a shot. The doorknob turned and she walked inside, making sure to close it tightly behind her.

This time she hit the jackpot. Scanning the shelves she filled a cart with bandages, saline, antibiotics and whatever other bottle of pills she found behind the pharmacy area counter. Any bottle with the label Lortab, Morphine, or pain relief had mostly disappeared, but surprisingly this pharmacy still held some. Just for the hell of it she got stuff to style her hair, which she had to cut herself. It was cut close to her head all expect the top, which she kept longer to style in a Mohawk.

As she walked around the store her cart caught on a rack of backpacks and she ripped a few of them off the pegs and loaded them with her stash. As she moved down another aisle she grabbed a bunch of bandages from a hook and stuffed them inside a bag. Another lucky strike brought her to some cheap rope, which she used to tie the packs together. Ignoring the weight, she slung the bags on one shoulder and her rifle on the other.

Scanning the area she made her way to a fitness center, which had become her go to shower place providing no gang members were around. So far the water had continued to run here; never hot, but still, it was water. The building was dark inside, but she had ventured here so many times she could walk through with no problems. Using the lights would be a beacon to the gangs in this large window filled building. The women’s locker room was large, tiled, and cave-like-dark. Letting the packs slide off her shoulder she laid the rifle on top of them by feel. Making sure she closed the door to the locker room securely she flipped on the sparse, overhead florescent lights. Some flickered, while others buzzed full of light. Sitting down on a bench she untied her calf high military boots and slid her black jeans off. The only clothes she had were the ones she wore, so she took the jeans and black tank top into the shower with her to wash them along with her undergarments.

At first, the cold water made her jump. She entered the stream a little at a time. As her teeth chattered she reached for a bar of soap that had been left behind and scrubbed her body and hair. Her hands moved quickly as she rinsed all the soap off. Wrapping herself in a towel she kept handy in the shower stall, she scrubbed her clothes and rinsed them. By this time her teeth were chattering a million miles a second. Phoenix rung out her clothes as much as she could to get the water out then flipped them in the air.

She laid her clothes out to dry and stood in front of a mirror. She used the hairspray she had stolen to put her blonde hair up in her favorite Mohawk. It stood thick on top of her head and folded over a little to the right.

A few years ago she found a guy who was a tattoo artist and had him tattoo heavy eyeliner on her eyelids. He also added a dark grey color to give the impression of eye shadow. To Phoenix it gave her some sense of normalcy. She smiled fondly as the memory of Kevin flooded her mind.

Tracey walked down a street in Kansas where she saw a large crowd gathered outside of a small house. Every single member of the crowd was a vamp. Their glowing green eyes shown in the night like beacons. Staying in the shadow of a building, she watched with curiosity to see what was happening. Mostly it looked like a block party, complete with a keg. Drunken contests were being organized and winners praised. The vamp to do a keg stand the longest had the group raving with shouts and cheers. The winner was a petite girl, who either actually did outdrink a very large man, or just happened to balance herself the longest. The loser stomped off throwing his shoulder into those that didn’t get out of his way. Even though the gangs filled her with fear, she hung around for hours getting to know her enemy.

As the crowd dispersed she was able to get a view of the inside of the house. The front had a large picture window and the interior was well lit. The walls of the room were covered with sketches. Waiting until the last person left, she crept forward looking over her shoulder constantly. Inside was a man with long blond hair, which was a touch on the dirty side. His hands, arms and neck were covered in tattoos, so she assumed the parts of him covered with clothing were as well. He sat alone cleaning up his equipment. He packed a few tattoo guns into a hard case. She approached him as he gathered up the paper towels, tiny ink cups, and any other trash left from his sessions.

“Hi,” she said meekly.

He whirled around quickly, but remained bent over picking up trash. As he looked at her he said, “Never sneak up on a human.”

“Sorry, I was just curious as to what the crowd was all about.” She looked him over. His scraggly blond hair was shoulder length and had choppy layers all over. He wore black rimmed glasses and a worn out flannel shirt with torn jeans.

“I’ve already done the last tat for today, but you can come back tomorrow if you want.”

She didn’t have the nerve to tell him she could never hang out in that crowd.

He looked at her for a moment. “Not your thing, huh?”

“It shows that much?”

“The worried look on your face pretty much says it all.”

“I would love a tattoo, but it seems you have a full plate.”

He picked up his case and walked toward the light switch, but hesitated. “What do you want to get?”

“I always wanted a flower for each member of my lost family, but I have no way to pay you.”

“Well, I get paid in food, and goods.”

She chuckled. “I don’t even have that.”

Placing the case on the table by his rolling stool, he walked up to her.

“Hey, I’m Kevin.”

She shook his hand firmly. “Tracey.”

“You look like a Phoenix to me.”

She gave him a crooked grin. “That’s the first time I’ve heard that.”

“Well, put it this way; you’re a survivor and since the world did burst into flames and you’re still here…” he imitated a bomb exploding. “You’re a phoenix.”

“I like it.”

“Not to mention you’re gorgeous, which is a requirement for that title.”

She cocked her head slightly. It had been years since any man had admired her. Here was a human who wasn’t the slightest afraid of her.

Kevin invited her to stay with him in the upper level of the house and she accepted without question. It was better than finding a safe place to sleep on the street.

He slid her backpack from her shoulders and carried it along with his tattoo equipment upstairs. When they entered she smiled broadly.

“It’s not much, but it’s home.”

“It’s perfect.”

The furniture was simple, but comfortable. There was a small, functional kitchen and a full bath. The living room was covered in 1970’s flowered wallpaper. The gold and green tones matched with the shag carpet.

“Make yourself at home.”

She sat on a large, rust color, recliner. Her knife was jabbing into her thigh so she removed it, but kept her side arm. “Do you expect your friends anytime soon?”

“They’ll clear out for a week or two. Marcus likes to plunder surrounding towns.”

“Well they certainly act like a bunch of out of control pirates.”

Kevin spent the next few hours asking Phoenix about her life and her reasons for being a loner. The ease of his voice made her relax and she had the perfect place to sleep.

The next few weeks were filled with tattoo sessions. She already had a dragon on her arm. Her act of teenage rebellion didn’t mean as much as this. As Kevin pressed the needles into her rib cage she felt joy, as if the ink were blocking her pain. As the Phoenix took shape and color she felt the psychological transformation that would become her future self take place. Ignoring the pain, she insisted that he tattoo her back the same week, feeling it made her stronger.

Phoenix put herself into the role of Kevin’s assistant. She would help him set up and take down his equipment between clients. The more clients they had, the more their food supply piled up. She began to think their situation wasn’t so bad.

When the last vamp left for the night she bent over to clear the little rolling table that had been setting next to Kevin when his lips touched hers. She pulled in a breath and hesitated.

“Sorry.” He looked down. “I thought you felt the same.”

She put her finger under his chin and pulled his face back to hers. “I do, I just wasn’t expecting it.” Before he could speak again Phoenix kissed him deeply and passionately. Pointing to the table he said, “This can wait”. He picked her up and carried her upstairs. When he put her down she wasted no time and stripped his shirt from his body. Kevin wasn’t muscular, but had a lean body and she found herself placing soft kisses all the way down his torso.

Walking her backwards to his bed, Kevin continued to kiss her. When she felt the back of her knees hit the mattress she sat down and watched as he unlaced her boots and slid them off.

Her heart raced. She hadn’t felt the touch of a man in years and it felt like her body might melt into the floor.

They spent an hour touching each other and making love. Her heart felt content and she snuggled up to his naked form to sleep.

The shock of a loud bang brought her out of a deep sleep. The bedroom door was now hanging by one hinge and in the door stood a vamp with a gun pointed at them. Three shots rang out and she hit the floor; it was over within seconds.

“I’ll give you one chance to get out of my town,” Marcus said standing behind the gunman. “You have one hour.” Turning on his heel, he strode out. The triumphant air around him choked Phoenix.

Her hatred of Marcus and his gang had begun, and their paths would continue to cross.