The Phoenix Trilogy (Book 1): World On Fire (18 page)

    Whatever
the case, Natalie wasn’t able to wipe the bemused expression off her face
before BJ noticed, and he placed a heavy hand on her shoulder in response. She
wasn’t sure what had caused the sudden mood swing, but it was obvious something
had changed. There was an aura of grim finality on his face, and Natalie felt
like she was about to be given some very bad news.

    “Natalie.”
He took a moment to compose himself, and her heart sank a little further. BJ
had yet to show this much emotion candidly, and the feeling of impending danger
escalated. She had no idea what this could be about, until she remembered their
deal.

    He
was going to tell her what he suspected about the soldiers who had died here,
and what had really happened at the gas station. BJ sighed heavily, seemingly
ready to speak, and Natalie tried to brace herself for the horrible truth. The
room was filled with palpable tension as BJ finally stated, in an utterly flat
tone, “I didn’t use the watch.”

    Natalie’s
attention was glued to his face, ready to hear the most terrible facts she
would ever be given. What she got instead was so completely out of the blue
that she didn’t know how to handle it.

    The
look of apprehension plastered over BJ’s features disappeared in an instant,
replaced with a glimmer in his eye that was vaguely reminiscent of a
mischievous child.

    For
her part, Natalie couldn’t understand what had just happened. Even with all of
the logic in her head saying that it was impossible, everything on hand seemed
to suggest that this giant professional had just punked her.

    Natalie’s
dumbfounded state was cut short as BJ flicked her on the nose, and any
semblance of trying to fathom what was going on was thrown out the window. BJ
was smiling smugly to himself, but Natalie had all but given up on trying to
piece together the purpose of his behavior. Instead, she offered him a shrug of
loss, as if to convey how far behind she was on playing this game.

    “I’m
preparing you. There’s no way of telling what you’re going to encounter before
this is all over, and you need to be ready to respond to anything, even the
absurd. I did something unexpected, and while you tried to understand it, I
took action.” He brought his hand near Natalie’s face again, hovering it in
front of her. She could see a myriad of scars and callouses crossing every
direction, a subtle reminder that he was accustomed to a rough life.

    “All
I did was touch you; someone or something else may not have been so kind.” BJ’s
voice had resumed its usual candor, but Natalie shook her head. She wasn’t
buying it.

     “Oh,
of course, Sensei. Please, teach me more of your mystical ways.” What he said
made enough sense, and she recognized that. She was also very aware that the
spark of shenanigans was shining through BJ’s staunch demeanor. Whatever lesson
he had been trying to impart to her, his action had also been driven at least
in equal parts by a desire to amuse himself.

    Natalie’s
stern look of sarcasm cracked BJ’s facade, and he allowed himself another
chuckle. A nonchalant shrug of his shoulders was the closest thing Natalie
could expect to him outright admitting that he was jerking her around, but it
was enough. BJ was right to call all of this absurd. Natalie joined his
laughter for a moment, appreciating the slight release of stress in her chest,
and BJ wagged a finger at her.

    “Honestly,
there were two lessons for you. The first still holds true, even if my means of
teaching it was… a little weak.” Natalie interrupted his speaking with a snort
and cocked eyebrow. BJ’s lips cracked into a small smile as he bowed his head
to her, conceding her point that he may be giving himself a tad too much
credit. Natalie rolled her eyes, her amusement plain on her face, before
gesturing for him to continue.

    “The
second lesson is simple, and one that most people forget they already know.
These moments of laughter, small as they may be, are important. Everybody needs
to take a second now and again to smile. Sometimes, it’s all we can do to take the
edge off the shitshow we’re plowing through.” He had the shadow of a smirk on
his face, but it was more the awkward look that she had grown accustomed to
expecting from BJ than the genuine article. Hoping she might be able to eke out
one last laugh, she put on her best face.

    “You
know, you sounded just like an old 90s sitcom for a minute there. Right up
until you said shitshow, anyway. I don’t remember Uncle Jesse ever slipping
that past the censors.” BJ’s stifled guffaw confirmed that she had succeeded.
As he shook his head quietly in mirth, she reached forward and flicked him
solidly on the chin. Before he could respond, she nodded sagely.

    “Next
time, I may not be so kind.” She did her best to impersonate BJ’s lecturing
tone, and the reaction it earned was more than she expected. BJ’s expression
shifted from stunned to immensely pleased in a heartbeat, and he slammed his
hand down heartily on her back.

    It
was meant to be a show of approval, but Natalie couldn’t refrain from equating
the experience to the feeling of being punched by a particularly angry bear. It
wasn’t an event she had actually experienced, but the bruise forming between
her shoulder blades seemed more than enough to convince her that she wasn’t far
from the truth.

    Meanwhile,
as she tried to get some air back in her lungs, BJ had regained his composure
and seemed ready to continue. Natalie almost regretted her actions, but the
lasting glint of happiness on BJ’s face reassured her that the pain was worth
it. They still had important matters to discuss, and Natalie had little doubt
they’d be back to their serious attitude much faster than she’d have liked.

    “That
was good, Natalie. And it brings me to lesson three: no one is prepared all the
time. There is always a flaw to exploit, no matter how seasoned you or your
enemies are.” BJ rubbed at his chin where Natalie had tagged him, his
expression thoughtful in the dull light.

    Stereotypical
as it was to Natalie, she did appreciate her growing student-teacher
relationship with the man. It felt good to learn from someone as capable as BJ,
but it wasn’t without its drawbacks.

     Natalie
had spent a lot of time with stories all throughout her life, and that
immersion had left certain impressions on her. Frequently she’d find herself
assuming the world would play out like her fiction did; in this case, that
meant the teacher in her student-teacher relationship would be killed so she
could take his place and fulfill her destiny.

    Realistically,
she would be the one to die due to her rookie mistakes. Even in that case it
would remain a cliché; the master would be forced to avenge his pupil’s death
and learn to overcome his own sense of failure. Either way, to Natalie, the
whole thing seemed dangerous.

    The
rational aspects of her mind reminded her that she was giving undue credit to
the real life applications of fantasy novels, but when you’ve seen the same
premise play out a million times, it can get stuck in your head. Whether it was
a fair thing to believe or not, Natalie was convinced that either she or BJ
would be dead before this was all over.

    Natalie’s
mood had gone from cheery to dreary with such speed that she was almost
impressed. She drew a silent comparison to being a sullen teenager in a dry
attempt to make herself feel better, before realizing all she had done was
accidentally remind herself that nearly every person under sixteen or seventeen
were dead. She winced, trying to find a subject that didn’t make her feel like
curling into a ball. In her preoccupied state, she didn’t notice BJ had shifted
his attention back to her.

    “Great.
Something soured your mood so I don’t have to.” He motioned for Natalie to take
her post at the door while he sat down by his gear. “I need sleep if I want to
avoid getting killed tomorrow, but before that, we had an agreement.” By the
time Natalie had taken her seat, BJ was in a very different state of mind, and
it was displayed clearly on his face. There was no playful joke to surprise her
this time. Whatever came next was not going to be as pleasant as the last few
minutes had been.

    “If
you wanted to back out, now would be the time to do it. Most folks don’t know
what is really happening out here, and I promise you, they sleep better at
night. Last chance.” He was giving Natalie an opportunity to let the undead dog
lie, but her unwavering stare was enough to convince BJ that she stood firm in
her choice. Without any further pressing, he bobbed his head and began to
speak.

    “The
two outposts, where we’re staying now and the gas station, they’re not the only
ones that we’ve lost.” Reaching into his backpack, BJ produced a sizeable map
of the area. On it, dozens of red X’s were scattered around without discernible
pattern.

    “Before
we went on survivor detail, me and the boys were an investigative team, of
sorts. If a building went silent, we got sent out. At first, it was usually
something simple: a faulty wire had cut comms, or their generators had run
short on fuel so they’d lost power.” As he spoke, he pointed out a few notes
written in the margins of the map, some having been crossed out and replaced
with updated information.

    Each
one seemed to denote a time, place, and problem. BJ’s handwriting was uniform
and tidy, but many of the places where his words had been rewritten were struck
through with lines that were angry and uneven. It wasn’t hard to understand
why; any note that had been marked off was replaced with a simple
Post
eliminated/No survivors
, followed by more precise details concerning the
scene.

    Judging
by the number of lost bases, it was a growing problem. BJ had stopped speaking,
allowing Natalie to pour over the map for herself, and what she found gave good
reason to be paranoid.

    If
BJ’s notes were accurate, and Natalie had no reason to believe they weren’t,
then an outpost would be wiped out roughly every five days. Scanning more of
the marks, she realized that she had made a mistake. Not
roughly
every
five days,
exactly
every five days. Like clockwork.

    It
wasn’t news that there was a method to the madness; there had been countless
signs already that somebody was responsible for all of this, behind the scenes.
What was disturbing were the details written beside each lost outpost.

    Some
of the earliest losses were written off as being zombie attacks; a reasonable
thing to happen during the apocalypse, and certainly not a surprise. As time
went on, however, a growing number of more calculated strikes appeared.
Instances like the apartment they now found themselves in, where the murder that
had taken place was simply too clean to be the work of the undead.

    Even
worse, according to the five-day schedule that seemed to be established, what
should have been “random” losses to the zombies appeared to be calculated. It
was one thing to recognize that the rise of the walking dead had been
orchestrated, but it was something else entirely to read implications that they
were being controlled somehow.

December 15th, Outpost 4,
Post eliminated/No survivors, undead presence likely.

December 20th, Outpost
18, Post eliminated/No survivors, undead presence likely.

December 25th, Outpost
23, Post eliminated/No survivors, human sabotage likely. Merry Christmas,
Jacob. I’m sorry.

    Natalie
felt a pang of sorrow as she read BJ’s notes, his calm writing showing a sudden
unsteady shake on the 25th. She didn’t know who Jacob was, but he had evidently
meant something to BJ. Beside her, the giant of a man rumbled back to life,
shifting the map toward him again.

    “There
are two patterns at work here. One is bad news, and the other is very bad
news.” Natalie expected a sudden demand for her to explain what the patterns
were and what they meant, but BJ didn’t seem to be in the mood to test her.
Instead, he ran his finger down the line of notes, then traced it from X to red
X on the map.

    “The
types of attack aren’t consistent, but how often they occur is. That shouldn’t
be possible unless there is somebody out there who knows how to command the
horde.” Natalie nodded along at that, having reached the same conclusion.

    “I
thought so, too. The only advantage we have over them is that we’re supposed to
be smarter. Take that away, and we’re boned.” Even as the word came out,
Natalie was biting down on her tongue in an attempt to stop herself. It hadn’t
been intentional, but she thought it might be best to try and end her statement
with something that could shift BJ’s focus away from her less-than-impressive
vocabulary.

    “Calling
that ‘really bad’ might be a bit of an understatement though, doncha think?” It
was a sheepish addition, one that Natalie hoped would be enough to at least
make the man smirk. Instead, BJ slowly shook his head, lofting a growling sigh
as he did.

    “That’s
not the worst part. Knowing that they’re being controlled is a double-edged
sword; it means they’re more dangerous, but it also means we might have an
opportunity on our hands.” He tapped a finger at his temple, and Natalie
understood that he was back to expecting her to fill in the blanks. Thankfully,
this was a simple puzzle.