The Phoenix Colony

Pasha centered the horn onto the tip of the last of the sticks. He took a piece of the rope, looping it around into a tight knot. He used his knife to slice the excess rope off, leaving just enough to tie one of the feathers on. He placed in into the pile of spears, happy with his work. Most of his time had been spent making the rope with Viva, the rest cutting the sticks to an even size. The rest had been pretty smooth, as he helped clean the gorilla-beasts.

He picked up two of the spears, tossing them in front of Cevin who seemed to have a new blade. He tossed two more next to Viva.

“Well, now we have projectiles.” He muttered. He tossed more wood into the fire, letting the flame got higher. He sliced some of the meat from their kill, now skinned and mostly de-boned, and set it on the side of the hot rocks.

“Honestly, you don’t look like you belonged in jail. Too nice a guy.” He said, looking up at Cevin, “Wrongly accused maybe? A lot of that seems to be happening.” He nodded over to Viva.

 

"My face." He said softly, he had never been a prety boy, but his minds eye saw his face, covered in red, hard patches. Even if everyone was changing, he was different. "I'm becoming a monster."

"That's not true." Reva said as he dropped his head into his hands, the picture of dejection. "Even only knowing you a short time I can tell you could never be a monster."

She put her hand on his shoulder and realized he probably couldn't even feel the contact so she touched his hair instead, observing how the little roo snuggled against Smith.

"Get some sleep," she advised softly, "we're all in this together and with any luck things will look better in the morning."

 

Across a frozen river and through the snow covered woods, to anyone's house he went. Each breath left his mouth as a shaky cloud, each step he took made a loud crunch, his hands felt frozen to his shotgun, yes Ben certainly made the right decision of taking his chance. Even his mind, which only hours ago had begun to stabilize was already on edge again. As he thought of what he left, of Reva, it was almost impossible to stay sane. She could have loved me? She'll love me more when I sell her that bridge in New York!

Looking around, his eyes could hardly see anything past the falling snow. His frostbitten eyelids didn't even want to raise, all they wanted to do was stay down. All Ben wanted to do was stay down, take a seat in the middle of the snow, throw up his hands and yell 'Well world, you got me you sick sadistic bitch.' But Ben wouldn't give up so easily, the part of him that smoked his shoelaces, the part of him that didn't deal with slavers, the part of him that at the end of the day believed that it wasn't about him, but really it was all about Chad, Reva and Fox.

Trees and shadows, that's all he could make out past the constant downpour as he stumbled through the snow. Shadow, darkness, and something else. Every now and then he could here it, sliding like the sled he dragged the rods out on during Ice-fishing season. And he saw it, distortion, a big wall of it flashing past him. And he felt it, the hunger, the endless appetite for flesh and the unquenchable thirst for blood. Ben wasn't scared for himself though, he had danced with this demon before, and he knew right then his days were done. He was scared about something else, a fear that a mother feels for her children, a boy feels for his dog, a husband feels for his wife. He felt fear for those he left behind, because however much they felt for this thing, it wasn't enough.

Ben stopped walking and looked at the distortion rapidly shooting around him. He held his arms open, shotgun hanging off one blue hand. He stood there and he screamed, "Come on you bitch! Bring me your thirst for me to sleight!" He coughed and fell to his knees as a rush of air whizzed by him. As the cloud of darkness passed in front of him again he quickly brought up his gun and shot at it. It faded back into the woods, leaving Ben for a moment to lick its wound.

Ben dropped the gun, a wisp of smoke rising from the barrel, and he began to cry. Tears ran down his cheek, hot, merciful tears. He screamed at the top of his lungs, "AND DON'T COME BACK UNTIL I BUILD MY BRIDGE!" Ben had to do something, he wasn't sure what, but he needed to do something. Falling onto all fours, he reached into the inner pockets of his jacket and dragged out a pen and paper, protected from the elements by his suave suit. He clicked the pen and said a prayer as he scratched it across the notepad. It worked.

"Thank you Jesus my lord in heaven, for I will be with you soon." he whispered. Ben began to write something on the paper when the distortion returned, shooting by his right and slashing his arm. "LEAVE ME BE YOU WHORE!" he screamed as he scooped up his gun and shot at it again. He tossed it aside and finished his note. He took off one shoe, the one with a hold in the top, and stuck it inside to keep it dry, then rose to his feet, shotgun in hands and yelled. "Come at me now! Finish me!" He beckoned the beast from the depths of hell to take him as he stood there, screaming at shadows in the cold.

* * * * * *

"Well how about that, Kyle is it?" The man nodded. Frank smiled and put an arm around the boy as they walked back towards the cave. "Well Kyle, looks like balls beats spine again, welcome to the crew, just a few words of advice, speak proper English and call me sir." To that all of his men laughed, and so did Frank. One more for the good guys. he thought. "Well we have a bit of a problem you might be able to-" He was interrupted as in the distance a gunshot echoed. He jerked towards and and said, "**** it Kyle, your a good luck charm." Patting him on the back he motioned for his men to follow.

Ten minutes later in the deep snow they caught sight of two things, the blood outline of a gun, and a shoe. "Grab the weapon Floyd," he said as he picked up the wingtip. Reaching inside he pulled out a piece of paper. Unfolding it he read, "I couldn't sell any bridges in New York Reva, forgive me, I threw my chance away, -Ben Freeman."

 

Cevin kept carving the wood. The piece was nearly as big as his leg. It would take some time to get the shape right, but Owen deserved it. The hunter looked up at Pasha. “Innocent? No not me. Hell, I was guilty as sin. Five murders. They decided it was better to ship me off than kill me.” Cevin held the wood at arm’s length. The basic shape was right, it just needed to be refined a bit. “That was a lifetime ago.” He looked into Pasha’s eyes. “What did you do?”

 

Smith felt Reva's hand in his hair, heard her words of encoragement, but knew that no one knew who he really was. He had killed, more than once, he had chaced off Ben, condemed him to a possible death in the cold world they lived in, he had pushed this job onto Reva, the job of watching after everyone, the job he had signed up for. He was no better than Fox.

"Get some sleep," she advised softly, "we're all in this together and with any luck things will look better in the morning."

Smith nodded, got up with out looking at Reva, picked up Joey gently and walked over to a dark corner of the cave and layed down to fall asleep. His hands reaching up for his hair, it had felt weird when Reva had touched it. He used to fingers to grab a couple hairs and pulled gently, they came right out. He had wondered how he had remained so clean shaven since the landing, things just keep getting worse.

 

Pasha quickly looked away.

“Truth? He’s been truthful all along.” Pasha asked Yuri.

“The truth will—“ his mother started.

“Just tell him. What more harm can be done?” Yuri interrupted.

“I went on a killing spree, kind of.” He muttered. He looked over at Viva.

“Though, I wasn’t convicted, I did a few bombings as well.”

 

Viva yawned as Pasha mentioned the part about him being a murderer and such. She knew that already, but she had to act as oblivious as possible. Therefore, she eyed him with eyes popped out like snooker balls as he said that.

"So Tonight Gotta Leave That Nine To Five Upon The Shelf, And Just Enjoy Yourself
Groove, Let The Madness In The Music Get To You, Life Ain’t So Bad At All, If You Live It Off The Wall..."
"Wow, he actually is good Viva."
I don't need consolation.
"Money, Money, Lie for it, Spy for it, Kill for it, Die for it..."
"Wow, he gives you good advice too."
Yeah right. He's so good at playing mind games.
"Whatever happens, don't let go of my hand, Everything will be alright, he assures her, But she doesn't hear a word that he says..."
Stop playing for Pasha. He's a murderous geek, rethink.

Viva closed her eyes shut and cuddled herself up.
"Have you seen my Childhood? I'm searching for that wonder in my youth, Like pirates and adventurous dreams, Of conquest and kings on the throne..."
Hey, that's IT!
Viva felt a surge of interest in Pasha's youth, that was Yuri.
What did Yuri say - what crazy things? Was the mission all that important anyway?
Viva quickly placed her chin on Pasha's shoulder, grinning.
"So...what's Yuri doing in there? You seem absorbed."

 

"Your honor, we the members of the jury, find Harold Christopher-John Krolita guilty on all charges presented against him." Stated the woman with the papers in front of the lucky-seaters.

"Mommy, isn't guilty bad? Why are they calling Daddy bad?" Chrys wined, tugging at her mother's sleeves. "Did he lose? What are the packets for? You have one, she has one, why can't I have one?"

Her mother looked down, her eyes teary, "Diane, be quiet. Just, stop....

Death. Death and fire asssaulted her senses. The damp ground starting to hug her body.

Sitting up, her hands sinking into the ground, CHrys looked around, I could have sworn I fell asleep in snow...And what died?

Chrys noticed Fox, looking towards the sky, "What are you watching?" She asked as she crawled over to her. Is she crying?

Chrys placed a hand on Fox's shoulder, "Where's Britney, and the beastie thingy?"

 

"Where's Britney, and the beastie thingy?"

As she continues to stare up into the crimson eye in the sky, tears still flowing, she points to the scorched ground to her left. The shape of Britney's body had been burned into the ground.

"There is nothing left of her but ashes. I buried them, here infront of me. Um...Kat, could you please find me a good sized stone that we can use to mark her grave?" says Fox, in a deeply sad tone of voice.

 

Chrys is shocked by what she hears, even missing the name Fox uses.

Chrys tries to stand, but a sharp pain in her thigh prevents her from fullly extending her leg, "Uh, do you think I'll be able to drag it over? I don't think I can stand up." She winced, rubbing the pain on her thigh.

 

"Just point out a good stone for me, and I'll carry it back it." says Fox as she turns and looks at Kat, "Grab my hand and lean against me to help yourself walk."

 

Chrys follows Fox's directions, leaning on her, and stumbling abit in her wake.

"Okay, I can't do that whole clock thing most people use, but if you walk forward twenty paces, and then sidestep seven paces, you'll be within arm reach of a nice sized rock. Actually, it kind of looks like an upside down heart."

As they continued to walk, Chrys thought aloud, "If you can sense muscle movement, could you figure out what exactly is wrong with me?"

 

"Its probably nothing serious. Just rest up a bit and it should be fine. If it still hurts get Cull to check you out." says Fox as she heads towards the heart shaped stone. She picks up the heavy stone and goes back to Kat, "Keep your hand on my hip and lean against me as we walk back to her grave."

 

Chrys again follows her directions, but starts to wonder about something else...No, that's not possible...It's just a phase....

"I think we are here, the smell of fire and-as-I smell the scent of fire here, so we're probably really close." She stammers, trying not to hurt Fox's feelings.

Something is different about her, she doesn't smell the same as she did before...Maybe it's Britney's death on her... Chrys knew in her heart it was something else, not Britney's deaththat was changing Fox.

 

Fox puts the heart shaped stone, horizontally over Brintey's grave. Using her finger she draws a pentacle into the dirt near the bottom of the tombstone. She puts her hand over the pentacle and says "To all of the gods near and far, hear my call. Tonight a young warrior has lost her life. She was kind to those around her, and I know that were she goes, someone like me probably can't follow. I ask that you take good care of her soul."

 

Warmth. His body was warmer then it had ever been, it had to be over 115 that year, with added humidity. Pasha sat on the bench and watched as the people walked by, going on with their lives. If only the knew what was ahead of them. Children and adults alike, age was no difference to him.

He got up as he noticed Yuri walk out the door, he had a cigarette in his mouth. That only meant one thing, something serious was going down. He only smoked when he was nervous, though he’d never admit to that. He waved Pasha over, and he came at a run, his lanky legs getting him there pretty quickly. The sweat trickled down his back as he stopped in front of Yuri.

“Is it set? You’ve got the distraction ready?” Pasha asked.

Yuri took the cigarette in between his lips, and looked at Pasha. He was a few inches taller then Pasha at the time, for Pasha still remained younger man.. Yuri was his best friend, but also his mentor. There was the age difference, an obvious one, but he never asked Yuri how old he had been. Frankly, he didn’t care.

“It’s set, let some scum know something was going. It’ll look like they did it while we walk away free of worries. I think this is our last practice, the others didn’t go so well.” His face never leaving it's serious look, “I think this one will go just fine. Our Government job will be all set and ready within a few weeks. Our employer will be happy about that… they’re starting construction too soon for anyone’s comfort.”

Pasha looked at him with a smile, as he felt for the bag that hung on his back. Explosives. He walked in, just past a sign that read “Fuchs Mall”. He took in a deep breath and went to work. It would be their first and only successful bombing.

He looked up at them as he snapped back to reality.

“He was reminding me. Of one of my bombings. My second to last, actually. Just a few weeks before that Government building I was talking about before Viva.”

He looked at Viva’s who’s eyes seemed to have changed so easily.

“You muttered, the Fuchs Mall?” she asked him, her voice almost demanding it.

Pasha nodded, as Viva leaned against the wall, as if thinking to herself. He felt a pang of worry hit him, but he let it be and turned back at Cevin.

“You know what’s odd? The Government bombing had nothing to do with the hate of the Government, it was all about a man who needed us to cover up for him. Something to do with the land.”

 

Chrys watched Fox perform her ceromony, wondering what it was she had really missed.

Will she answer me if I ask her?...Nope I shouldn't do that...What would my mother do in this situation?...
Two men walked past Chrys and her mother, her father being lead between them. Wearing bracelets that were connected. "What's going on?" The little girl wondered.

Cynthia raised her hand, "Stop, I have to say something." She stated, cooly. Chrys' father looked up, with a gleam in his eye like Chrys had never seen before in her life.

Her parents stood, facing each other, the guards impatient with the silence and stalling.

"You've been served," Cynthia mumbled, extending the packet at Harold, "Here, take them." She said, loud enough for Chrys to hear clearly.

Harold looked at Cynthia, the gleam gone.

Chrys had never seen what it meant to break somebody's soul, until her father grasped that packet, and slowly began to cry. "Take me away. THere's nothing else to be said." He demanded of the guards.

 

After Fox says her pray, tears begin to flow from her eyes once more. "Why? Why did you have to fall for some one like me? Just about everyone that I get close to dies." says Fox as she stands up. She thinks about her mother, her father, her friends in the W.O.A. who were k.i.a. and Britney. "Despite years of training. Practicining with guns and martial arts every day and yet I'm still not strong enough to protect everyone I care about."

 

Ah! I knew it was something...

Crys sits down, and says sideways to Fox, "You know, you can't choose for others, you can't protect everyone And although it'll be hard to understand, you can't keep killing yourself because others are dieing. If I had died everytime someone around me died, I wouldn't be talking to you right now."

 

Fox sits down next to Kat. "Yeah, I know that. Its so frustrating though. Nine years ago, I watched that bastard Allen kill my mother right in front of me. I was too weak to do anything about it, and my weakness nearly cost me my life. Since then I've sworn, that I wouldn't just be strong, but I would be the strongest, and the most confident. I would never be weak again. And here we are, nine years later. Someone.....someone, that I could have been happy with, tells me that they love me, and is then consumed by fire right in front of me. Its almost as if all that time training was useless." says Fox as she stares at Britney's grave.

 

Cevin had been whittling for hours now. The wood was taking shape. It was now a long, handle, just a little smaller than his fist. He attached the knife blade to it with sinew. As the hunter looked at his new weapon, he smiled. He took a horn of of his belt and began carving Owen's name in the wood.

“You know what’s odd? The Government bombing had nothing to do with the hate of the Government, it was all about a man who needed us to cover up for him. Something to do with the land.”

Cevin's stomach tightened. He looked down at his savior's face staring up from his forearm. "A body. The best place to hide a body is among a bunch of others. So how do you know Yuri?"

 

Pasha looked up with an arched eyebrow.

“He was my best friend and my mentor.” He looked Cevin over, trying to recognize his face. It just wasn’t there, his mind wasn't remembering anything.

“That’s exactly what Yuri thought, about the bodies. Curious, did you know him?”

 

Cevin tightened the sinew around his new spear. Pefect, he thought. The hunter looked up at Pasha. "Yea, you could say we knew the same people. THat job you were muttering about, the government one? Lets just say I got my money's worth. I killed my wife - buried her body in the backyard.

"You remember what it was like back then. EVeryone scared that the black suits would come and take them. SO everyone minded their own business. When my wife disappeared everyone assumed They took her. And that's how it stayed until I got a knock on my door almost six years later. A couple of suits with givernment ID's and a check. THey told me the house was now government properly. Well I wasn't stupid, either I cashed the check and left or I just disappeared. So I did.

"A few weeks later, they started building another one of those government safe houses. You know the ones with one floor above ground and forty beneath? Well it wasn't going to take them long to find the body so ... well I'm sure Yuri told you the rest."

 

It was the night before the attack was planned, he could tell Yuri was nervous. He had all ready smoked a pack in the few hours they’d been sitting around going over the plan until it was etched into their minds. Yuri walked back and forth in between the boxes of explosives that would be delivered that next morning. They would get there with no detection, it was going to be put in with the food supplies, low security.

“What will happen after this? We run back to Russia, right?” Pasha finally asked. He was use to running, that’s what his entire life had consisted of until he met Yuri, running.

“No. You’ll be running…” he muttered. Pasha had tried to say something else, but Yuri quickly stopped. His face turned to the face he had come to know, he had the grin on his face.

“I’ve got something important to tell you… when the time is right.”

He had waited, and said nothing to his friend. He trusted him to tell when the time was right, and he certainly had. Pasha knew now, that there was a chance he never expected to leave that building. As if telling Pasha the truth was his last stand before he was ushered to those pearly gates. If he wasn’t condemned that was.

He snapped back, looking at Cevin with wide eyes.

“Small world, isn’t it?” he muttered, “Out of all the people we could have met, Yuri and I still found you somehow.” He chuckled to himself.

“Yuri died in that explosion, you know? Which was lucky, it couldn’t be traced back to you, nor to me. I was still unknown back them.” He smiled, “He was good at what he did though, I don’t think he’d regret such a death.”

 

Chrys looked up at the sky, I can't belive I'm going to say this, but some words need to be said....

"My name is Diane Katerina Krolita." She sighed, I can't believe I'm going to do this.
"When you were watching your mother's murder, I was watching my family get shredded apart by my father's jail sentence."

Chrys looked over at Fox, "Don't not believe me, okay? I never thought I'd have to say this, but...I wanted to be strong as everything crumbled around me, but all I could think about was understanding what was happening. They took away my father. And then my mother was gone...But, I'm not supposed to know my mother is dead."

She took a dep breathe, "No, I'm supposed to be happy with being Chrystine Waters. That's bulls' balls as far as I am concerned. I can't live with in others' lines, because it kills me. I've died once already, you know? I can't be the little girl I once was." A tear slowly descended down her cheek, "I am eighteen, dammit! And already I've lived three lives. The saint. The sinner. And now, the orphaned cat."