The Phoenix Colony

Britney looks at Reva and says "The food is poisoned. Fox is outside puking her guts out. So please don't eat any more." Britney grabs the trays and goes outside. She found an empty spot beside the ship and tosses the food there. She walks over to Fox and rubs her back. "Good get it all out of your system." she says.

Fox stayed there throwing up over and over again. She heard someone walk over to her and say "Good get it all out of your system." She felt a hand rubing her back. "F***ing fo..." says Fox, but she gets cut off when she has to vomit again. Over and over again, the muscles of her stomach constricted as hard as they could. Each time the vomit became a darker shade of red.

 

Pasha lay back against the roots that came into his shelter. It wasn’t the most comfortable of places to sleep, but it was dry and he was warm. The fire seemed to radiate from the rocks that surrounded the entire shelter. He was grateful he had put them up as the rain poured down.

“You left her.” Yuri snapped. He rolled his eyes and lay his head back. He closed his eyes gently. He didn’t care, they would be fine without him. They had food, and a big ship to take care of them.

“So says you.”

He pushed his friend into the back of his mind and let himself fall into a gentle slumber.

 

Derek, once he had settled himself close to the fire in an attempt to dry off, warm up, and, most importantly, be within arm's reach of the delicious meal. "So," he tried to say with a full mouth, "What're you all in for?"

While waiting for a reply, he did not hesitate to make an egg sandwhich with ribs as the bread and eat away, not caring what he got on his hands. He was, to put it lightly, hungry.

 

Reva ran after Britney, the woman was radiating more than normal concern. When Reva reached Fox with the light she could see why.

"Dammit," Reva said grimly, "looks like she's puking up blood."

Reva had enough knowledge to figure out a dislocated shoulder but internal medicine was beyond her. The rain was coming down hard, soaking them quickly. The wind threw water into their faces and thundered on the wreck, making speaking difficult.

"Try to find something to catch the rain in," Reva yelled to Britney and she went to do the same. There was little she could do for Fox but the woman would need water if she was to survive.

 

"You don't read the papers much huh? I ran things in New York. I still would ... if I could get a message back to Earth. What'd they get you for?"

Harold looked over and grabbed another hunk of meat. His stomach was being painfully stretched by the food but he couldn't help himself. He had to ger the taste of manflesh out of his mouth.

 

Allen kept a look out as he ran, identifying possible places to take cover in case he needed to hide or put something between him and something else. He didn't have any particular reason for it, it just became habit after so long. Up ahead there was a pile of boulders, off to the side a small thicket of trees he could hide in, and he was just passing an overhanging wall on the side of the ravine. The rain had been steadily getting worse. If it got too bad, that would be a good place to stop.

 

Chrys covered her mouth in astonishment, she actually hissed at someone! But, luckily, he hadn't noticed.

As he described himself to the assembled party, Chrys became increasingly happier that she had a tazer concealed on her, as well as her trusty lighter, her volleyball number emblazed on it. Lucky 13 had never fell through for her, and she hoped it wouldn't start now.

The ominous clouds had been crying on them for hours now, but they began to rain lightning on them as well.

Storms usually calmed her, but she was too wound up by this mobster to take comfort in nature.

 

"Eh, the papers bore me. But you're a crime boss; that must be a blast. Bet you had all kinds o' cash before you got locked up." Derek took a pause to swallow the last of what was in his mouth before continuing. "I sold certain...illegal contraband. Mostly weed, but whatever I could get my hands on. I was headed to Mining Mik for tryin' to steal smokes from a guard. Speakin' o' smokes..."Derek trailed off, pulling out one of his packages of cigarrettes. Luckily, they had stayed dry in his pocket. He took one out, lit it, then looked up. "Anyone else want one?" he asked.

 

Smith looked at Ben. "I think we can sqeeze some more people in here." He said looking up at the women. "Lets go see if we can be of any help. It sounds pretty bad." He said and looked over at Chrys makeing sure she was going to be ok. He couldn't tell if exsept she kept giving one of the men the evileye. "Chrys wana help me see if we can help them out over their? They sound really sick."

 

Chrys's eyes flickered back and forth between the mobster and Chad. "Yes," she seemed to purr, "I want to get out of here." She threw down the blanket, and rushed behind Chad.

 

"Yea, I ahd everything. A wife, a nice house, kids .... then the Feds took it all away."

Harold took a cigarette and held it tight. He didn't smoke - never even tried one before but he could still taste the oily skin of that man's arm. The mobster took a long, deep drag and stifled the urge to cough. He could still taste it.

 

Ben looked away from the puking women, now being helped by a few others, and listened to one of the guests recount his past. Ben fell back into his chair with another helping of venison after finishing the rest of the deer off. Groaning in a way of absolute pleasure, that sound a man makes when he's satisfied, Ben began to recount his tale for a second time. "I am a Lawyer, writer, and obviously, a hunter. I am what a couple hundred years ago people would call a muckraker, mother societies own Lincoln Steffens, only I'm not a communist and the day I live in values free speech much, much less. I wrote things, wrote entire books about the horrors of the Government, if you ever read that book, The Midnight Whistle, know that it was I who wrote it. The boys upstairs decided they didn't like my writing so much, so low and behold, I am amongst you." Ben breathed in, breathed out, and began to mow down some more venison.

"I think we can sqeeze some more people in here." Chad said suddenly.

"Aww hell," muttered Ben as he finished his meal and got to his feet.

 

Smith lead the way though the driving rain towards the poor sicking sounds that caught his attention. He kept looking back making sure he stayed close to Chrys. She might be able to handle herself but he still thought she looked about 16, much to young to be left alone with criminals. He kind of felt bad for having left her most of the day but then again his head was still sour so he'd fogive himself.

 

The storm started out fairly standard as bad Earth storms go. But this wasn't Earth and this wasn't an Earth storm.

Reva heard the rain let up a little bit and the wind die almost to nothing as she found the sheet of plastic and scrambled to put it out somehow to catch the rain. The lightning flashed in the clouds and thunder sounded merely annoyed.

Oh good, thought Reva, the storm's letting up.

But it wasn't.

High above them the cool and warm air did a complicated dance unique to this planet. It rose in spikes and then rushed toward the ground in columns four to ten feet wide.

Somewhere between the first camp and the women's camp the first charging column of air rushed down like a fist with so much force that a hapless tree cracked and boulders flew into the air.

The blowback from it lifted Allen, still running, into the air and bore him fifteen feet before hurling him back to the ground.

Another such downdraft hit only feet from him, the blowback sending him scudding across the ground again.

The columns of air pounded the ground where the prisoners were, pounding their roofs down then tearing them upwards, hurling anything that could be caught by the wind tunnel strength of it.

At the women's camp, the columns pounded as well, shoving the women back into the wreck.

It went on for at least fifteen minutes before the drafts subsided, leaving chaos in their wake. The rain returned, steady, cold, and soaking.

 

Britney runs back inside to look for anything she could use to collect water in. She looks through the personal property of the crew, hoping that she could find something useful. She manages to find a Ziplock bag that wasn't torn. She ran back outside and held it open. Then she was suddenly throwned back inside by a gust of wind.

Fox stayed there on her hands and knees, throwing up over and over again. By now, her stomach muscles had a horrible pain. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't stop throwing up. Fox thinks to her self "I'm glad you can't see me right now, Lonan." Just then she was lifted up into to air and slammed against the outside of the ship. She lands on the ground with a thud and curls up into a ball, hoping that the worst of it was over. She lays there still throwing up.

 

Chrys froze. "Are you freaking kidding me?!" She yelled, head to the skies.

Her scream was lost in the rush of air that fell to earth, grabbing one of the other prisoners.

"Chad! Chad! I don't think we should be out here man!"

 

"Holy crap!" said HArold as he dropped. "Everyone get down before something takes off your head."

A tree split in half and exploded outward sending hundreds of tiny splinters flying in every direction. The transport's hull groaned and buckled. Harold tried to see what had become of Juan. His eyes couldn't get past the dead bodies being tossed by the stranger wind currents. It almost looked like they were dancing ... or marching towards him.

 

"Damn, man, that sucks," Derek said. He had finished his makeshift sandwhich now, and was feeling rather full and tired. "Well, I'm feelin' like I'm gonna pass out any minute, and I could use some rest. You mind keepin' an eye out for awhile? Just wake me up later n' I'll keep an eye out for anything suspicious."

Without waiting for a response, Derek took off his prison jacket and rolled it up to use as a pillow, then lay down and went to sleep.

 

Smith skidded to a stop now they where already in dead mans zone, he turned and realized quickly that one his would shatter the shelter ben had thrown togeather. "Quick into the ship!" He called and pushed Chrys ahead of him, and pushing her as fast as he could go. "Keep your eyes focused on the ship and don't stop till you reach it." He instrructed.

 

Chrys wasn't going to stand anymore. She ran into the ship, trying not to look over her shoulder.

Once inside the ship, she looked back, dazzled by the dancing columns. Ben! He was in the middle of all of this.

She hoped he'd get out of it, and she waished she'd brought the blanket with her.

 

"JESUS H. CHRIST!" Ben screamed as the pillars of death shot form the heavens, each one a divine hammer reshaping the planet itself. He frantically groped for his shotgun, finding the stick of metal at his feet. Cradling it, he sprinted for his life, eyes wide open in terror as he tried to make it to the ship. To his left another ear shattering boom sent a shower of pebbles his way, and when Ben turned to the right an explosion fell out of the sky and landed there. For five minutes Ben danced across the ground trying to get to the ship without being vaporized, he nearly ran right into the hull. But he found an opening, a crevice in the side, and he crawled in, not knowing how the others did, watching the hundred or so survivors scamper away, some towards the ship, some towards the woods, but as Ben pulled the but of his gun up to his chin he knew that if any of them tried to pull him out of his little niche that it wouldn't be lightning that killed them, it would be 200 BB's to the face.

 

Pasha was rudely awoken by quick, powerful gusts of wind. He looked up as the branches and leaves from his roof began to fly away. He grabbed at them, barely managing to keep it steady. He held on tight, as many of the smaller ones flew away. The power of the wind was immense, and his arms strained greatly.

“Give me all you’ve got!” he bellowed. It stopped within the next 15 minutes. He sat back down, his fire had been completely estinquished. He looked up at his roof and frowned. Most of it was gone even with his effort. He just shrugged it off, grabbing some of the kindle around him. It wasn't much, but he hoped it was enough to start his fire again. He grabbed one of his matches and struggled to strike it. He quickly threw it on the kindle, and blew on it. He grabbed the small sticks around him, tossing them on. He added the larger wood. It was close to the tree, and somewhat safe from the water. He lay back down, staring at the angry sky.

“F**k you.” He mumbled as he went back to sleep.

 

Allen's only warning was an earthshattering CRACK. Before he knew anything he was being thrown through the air like a newborn kitten in the mouth of a great dane. He landed, hard. All of his breath was knocked out of him, but he started moving anyway. He got up to his feet, trying to catch his breath. Before he knew it something had pummeled the ground in front of him. This time the blast of air didn't throw him up, it threw him across, across the open ground and into a tree.

CRACK. This time it wasn't the tree, it was his left arm, the one that had excaped a starship crash and hanging from the ceiling for who knows how long without injury. Allen writhed in pain, but again training took hold and he got up. He bolted for the overhanging cliff, climbing up the steep ravine sides. All the while those...tornadoes?...hit the ground around him, throwing debries at deadly speeds on all sides. It reminded him of his time in Brazil trying to track down the cavaleiros da morte, or as the news called them, modern vietcong. He made it. It took an eternity of instants, but he made it. Allen crouched behind a boulder not much bigger than he was and hoped. He also grabbed his arm, holding it to his chest. He whispered under his breath "Son of a Bitch!"

 

Smith sat inside of the ship his rifle in hand and watched helplessly as a windy fist slammed down onto the weapons rack and the shelter. The shelter shatered, but the weapons rack bounced amusingly against the side of the ship and stayed shut. "Thank god for parinoid poloticians, insiting on strong, "theft proof" weapons racks."

"So Chrys, it seems the ship is holding up good." He said as a windy fist slammed the top of it sending a gong like noise through the ship. He thought quietly to himself that he must be crazy because the ship feels like it's sliding.

 

Chrys looked over at Chad, "s that head problem of yours effecting your judgement?" She said, competing with the roaring winds, "This is sooo not stable!"

She popped her head out of the ship, eyeing the ground, they were slipping!

"We're sinking into the ravine!" She screamed and threw herself against a wall, using it like a shelf, waiting for the sudden impact she knew was coming.