The Phoenix Trilogy (Book 1): World On Fire (25 page)

    The
outpost would provide a different game. Daggers in the dark, and an opportunity
for him to do the killing for himself. An even better plan than his first. As
he started to collect himself, he even suspected he could find a replacement
for his good clothes that had been sullied.
Better. Much better. Let those
pricks try and stop me. No one can tell me what to do; I am the alpha. I am the
apex predator. Superior.

    In
the span of less than a minute, he had gone from fuming rage to giggling joy.
Some part of him found that deeply amusing, though he wasn’t sure why. In a
haze of impulsive laughter, he dismissed the thought from his mind and instead
began to plan.

    He’d
pose as a refugee and head out in three days. Enough time would have passed by then
that no one would connect him to the havoc that had transpired this night. His
fingers tensed reflexively as he considered the possibility that he’d need to
hunt them down again once he was inside. Another wave of elation rolled over
him, and he gave a visible shudder of delight. He was going to have so much
fun.

    The
only obstacle left was looking the part. There was a broken mirror stashed away
in the corner of his hideout that he’d need to dig up, and he’d need to dirty
himself if he wanted to pass as another ragged, desperate soul just looking for
safety.

    Frankly,
he couldn’t fathom how anyone could believe he was that pathetic, even in
costume. If nothing else, it was either a testament to his acting ability or a
reminder that his audience truly was comprised of lesser creatures. A cruel
smirk curved his lips into a twisted grimace, a hint of unstable laughter
caught burbling in his chest.

    He
was practically bouncing with anticipation as he moved to retrieve the items
necessary for his disguise. After setting aside a half dozen of his most prized
mementos, his hands seized on what felt like a jagged piece of glass. With a
bark of triumph, he removed his mirror from the pack and placed it
ceremoniously on a nearby table for his viewing pleasure.

    The
man who looked back at him from within it was more handsome than he’d
remembered. He had sharp features, his cheeks and jawline pronounced and noble.
Even his eyes, a rich shade of brown, burned with a passion and intelligence
that gave him shivers. Everything about him was perfect, right down to the
carefully placed lock of long blonde hair that was draped over his ivory skin.
A deep sigh of contentment billowed from his mouth.

    This
would be harder than he’d expected, but he was nothing if not committed to his
art. His features would need to be downplayed if he wanted to pass into the
outpost without much notice. As much as he despised anything that would take
away from his pristine appearance, this was the sacrifice he was willing to make
for his performance.

    Dirt
and grime were easily accessible, and his knife would suit him well enough for
an impromptu haircut. The only thing he’d need to retrieve would be suitably
filthy clothing, and there was an ample supply of that available at every turn.

    For
all of his excitement at the coming events, there was a part of him, buried and
far off in the back of his mind, that was afraid. He was going to be going
against his orders, and there were strict repercussions for doing such a thing.
But then, that was assuming they might be able to find out what he had done. He
knew there were moles inside the outpost, but he should be able to go unnoticed
by them.

    A
bead of sweat trickled down his neck, and he realized how clammy his skin was.
Being tense, especially on the eve of such a magnificent undertaking, was
simply not acceptable. Returning to his evening project was a viable option
once more, now that he had at least managed to calm his shaking hands, and it
would likely take the edge off of his nerves.

    The
rest of his prep work could wait until morning. For now, he would relax and
enjoy his playtime. Reaching down to retrieve his knife, he began to whistle a
merry tune as he returned his attention to the corpse in front of him.

    He
had managed to remove nearly half of her face before his anger had forced him
to stop. He didn’t want to scar the flesh, and unstable knife-work made that a
very real risk. It wouldn’t do to harm such a wonder. She had been lovely to
behold, as near a match to his own splendor as could be expected, and he had
decided to keep her.

   Once
again, he pictured the girl he had first spied at the apartment, who had nearly
discovered him in the street during her escape. She wasn’t as beautiful as his
current specimen, but ooh, she was impressive enough to earn her place with
him, regardless. A thin line of drool cascaded from his mouth to spatter across
his shirt, though he was too immersed in the thought to notice.

    Sawing
neatly back and forth through his newest pet, his mind was lost in a haze of
hedonistic pleasure. He was going to have a new acquisition soon, no matter
what his supposed masters had to say. They didn’t control him; no one did. The
world was his for the taking, and he was going to prove it in three days’ time.
Three short days, and he’d reclaim the prey that was rightfully his.

  
  Natalie awoke to the persistent hum of human
activity, still surrounded by sleeping bodies. To her surprise, she noticed
that her immediate neighbors had changed sometime during the night, and BJ was
nowhere to be seen. That she had managed to sleep through people moving so near
to her was unexpected.

    Laying
in her sleeping bag, she took a moment to relax. Waking up in a fit and ready
for a fight had almost become a part of her morning routine. Actually getting a
good night’s sleep was something she’d come to view as a fairy-tale.
But
hey, here I am! Calm and refreshed, ready to see what impossible nonsense I’ll
have to deal with today.

    A
twinge of anxiety dampened her mood. She had meant to make a joke, but the
reality of her statement settled in before she had finished. Just because she
was behind fortified walls didn’t mean life was all sunshine and kittens. She’d
need to check on her job assignment, and if the growling in her stomach was any
indicator, she’d need to find some food as well.

    She
had supplies in her pack, but she had come to consider those as being for
emergencies only. The thought of her backpack jolted Natalie upright, hunting
for her gear. Had she set it down somewhere? Or… no, BJ had taken it from her
as she bedded down. A quick sheepish glance around her revealed that no one had
seen her sudden panic, or if they had, that nobody cared.

    Having
been startled from her lounging and with the day’s work ahead of her, Natalie
tore open her sleeping bag and began to pack it up when she noticed a note
tucked into the folds. She suspected that it was from BJ, and a quick glance at
the signature confirmed it.

Natalie,

Had to handle your
security clearance into outpost. With the issue at checkpoint, your
registration wasn’t submitted. Would have caused problems with your assignment.
Took your gear too, moved to safe place while you sleep. Thieves everywhere
around here. Left your pistol, no ammo boxes, hid it under foot of your
bedroll. Hide it tight, and
do not draw unless absolutely necessary
.
You’re not supposed to have a gun in here. Stay safe.

BJ

    Natalie
had to re-read the note a handful of times before she set it down with a sigh.
Thank
you, BJ, for casually leaving me with serious contraband. Very good. I need to
be caught smuggling weapons on my first day.

    She
knew his intentions were good, but her nerves were instantly put on edge. Sure
enough, a brief pat at the base of her sleeping mat revealed a conspicuous lump
that could only be her handgun. Casually as she could muster, she scooped it up
into her jacket while folding up the rest of her bedding. Once it was safely
inside an inner pocket, she finished her packing and took a deep breath.

    
This
is never going to work. I am so screwed.
The hunk of metal in her coat felt
impossibly heavy. If anyone caught her with it, the ramifications wouldn’t be pretty.
She briefly considered abandoning it, but the idea of being without a weapon
struck her as being just as problematic. Caught between a rock and a hard
place, Natalie shook her head.

    
Better
to stay armed. Besides, unless the guards suddenly take to roaming the streets,
it isn’t like I’m going to get searched. Just keep it out of sight. Easy.
Natalie
had to stop herself from jamming the gun deeper into her coat, painfully aware
that the outline would be visible to anyone passing by if she pressed too hard.
Her confidence waned.

    After
another handful of awkward seconds passed by, during which she was certain she
looked very strange to everyone around her, she set her jaw and forced herself
to relax.
Anything else. Just do anything else.
The growling in her
stomach reasserted itself, and she nodded in determination.
Food it is.
Wherever
food actually is around here…

    
The prospect of having to find her way
through the camp on her own made her skin prickle, especially now that she was
technically smuggling illicit goods. Natalie had never been comfortable around
groups of people, and the outbreak had done nothing to improve her fears. At
least the zombies were predictable; there was no telling what humans would do
until it was too late.

    Forcing
her feet to move, Natalie stepped outside of the sleeping quarters. The sun was
up and shining merrily, but as cheery as the day was, the scene it revealed was
anything but joyful. The streets had become even more crowded, and with the
world outside now brightly illuminated, every miserable detail was put on
display.

    From
the throngs of refugees barely containing their fear and anger at the situation
they found themselves in, to the guards watching them from above with cold
eyes, the outpost was a despondent mess. Even so, they all knew the truth of
the matter: inside was better than outside. They just had to sit tight and wait
it out.

    Natalie
briefly wondered how long they could dangle that carrot in front of these
people before impatience overtook them. It didn’t take a genius to see that the
only thing holding a riot at bay was the hope that they’d all be free to return
to their lives soon. As convincing as the soldiers’ presence was, Natalie
couldn’t help but believe that desperation would eventually be enough to
outweigh fear.

    Her
musings were cut short by a sudden multi-colored flash of movement heading in
her direction. As usual, Natalie’s grip on her weapon hardened as she prepared
to deal with this new attacker. She froze just short of tearing her pistol out
of her pocket, remembering what BJ had said about drawing her gun, and it was
good that she did.

    Natalie’s
“attacker” was a man maybe a year or two younger than she was, and what she had
mistaken for aggression was only excitement. He was beaming at her from
underneath a worn yellow beanie, and his jacket was so offensively bright
orange that Natalie had to shield her eyes. He was waving at her almost
frantically, though his eagerness slowed as he noticed her discomfort.

    “Hi
there! I’m Stephen.” He quickly extended his hand for a handshake, everything
about his attitude seeming to suggest that he had been expecting her. Natalie
furrowed her brow, considering the possibility that he may have been sent by
the assignment office.
Would BJ have told them where I was?
Slowly, her
eyes dropped to his outstretched hand, then back up to his face.

    He
had a poorly shaven stubble of a beard, complete with numerous nicks and cuts
that suggested he had no idea how to use a razor. He was grinning at her,
though it had started to fade into an awkward smile as she remained silent. The
longer she went without a response, the more uncomfortable he looked. Finally,
Natalie nodded her head slowly.