Page 9
Story: Phoenix Fated
"Here is a lot better than where I came from," Dustin says with a small, but surprisingly defiant voice.
The holding pin finally pushes free from the hinge, and I snatch it before it hits the wood floor.
"Done," I say, breaking the shackles off Dustin's wrists. "Alright. You ready to get out of here?"
"Yes."
"Good."
I have a plan.
Dustin has given me a crucial piece of info—there's a way off of this thing. I was dragged aboard via an extending rope ladderdropped over the side when the ship was hovering at very low altitude—impossible for us to use unless we just so happen to be flying over a pit filled with down feather pillows—but Dustin was taken aboard in another ship, a smaller vessel that we've nicknamed "the buzzer" because of the noise Dustin says it makes. All we have to do is find this thing...and figure out how to make it work. No problem.
I crawl quietly to the door. Just like on the shackles, its lock is archaic and takes just a few seconds to figure out how to break it. I put my eye up to the key hole. It's a hallway. I can't see if there's a guard.
The nail in my palm is like a railroad spike, except smaller. Roughly forged, thick as a pencil on one end with a taper to a point, and five inches long. The worst description if you're talking about your dick, but pretty awesome when it comes to a stealth weapon.
Keeping my eye to the hole, I slowly maneuver the latch and crack the door, waiting to see activity on the other side. Nothing. I pull the door open and peek out, keeping my head low. Clear.
"Stick close to me," I tell Dustin. "If we encounter a threat, and let's assume that will happen, then get your back against the closest wall or behind cover. That will limit angles of attack."
"Okay," he says. "Um, Jackson? What if they come from both sides?"
"Just stick close to me. Hand on my shoulder, so I know you're there."
We enter the hallway, cramped and dimly lit by flickering oil lanterns hanging from iron hooks stuck into the wall planks. A mouse pokes its head out from a hole and scurries along the floor away from us as we proceed forward to the T junction at the end of the hallway.
They'd brought me in from the left, but Dustin in from the right. I can retrace the left pathway in my mind, all the way back to the top deck. The right path is a blank, but that's where we have to go. Into the darkness.
The pulsing beat of the ship's engine, or whatever it is, gets louder as we approach the junction. I press my right palm against the wall and feel the growing vibration. I peek around the corner. Another empty hallway, but this one has several open passageways along it. Lamplight glimmers from the first entrance, and I freeze when the shadow of a wolfman plays across the wall. Slowly, carefully, I slide up to the entranceway. I can just make out two voices now, growling and yapping over the engine noise. Dustin's fingers dig into my shoulder. I motion with my palm—"Quiet, relax."He only squeezes harder. He's shaking in fear.
I drop to one knee and peek around the frame. There are four armed wolves sitting at a table inside what looks like a storeroom. Along two walls are slanted racks with three levels of terra cotta jars sitting on piles of straw, secured with lengths of rope tied around their slender necks.
Dustin shrinks to the floor with his eyes squeezed shut. He's breathing hard and muttering something I can't hear.
Fuck.This would be so much easier if it were just me.
I take a deep breath, and the twinge of frustration settles for the moment. Not all of us are built to be warriors, nor should we be. I'm afraid too, I've just learned to hide it better.
But if this guy gets us both killed...
The wolves laugh about something. One slams his palm repeatedly on the table, cackling with laughter. Their conversation is finished. One stands up—and looks directly at the door.
I pull back and nearly fall onto my ass. Jesus Christ, did he see me?
I can feel the thump of their steps through the wooden floor, and the groaning scrape of a chair being moved. I try to push Dustin back, but he refuses to move. He's frozen in place, clutching my shoulder and the back of my shirt.
I see the wolf's profile in shadow on the wall, his ears perked high. Then I hear him say, "I think my eyes are playing tricks on me."
Double fuck.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
The heavy footsteps grow closer. I flip the nail in my fist to a jabbing position. The best chance I have is to stay crouched and take them by surprise, but son of a bitch, going up againstfourhostiles like this is going to require a goddamn miracle.
The wolf's shadow shrinks into focus as he nears the entranceway. My mind races through the possible scenarios of how this could play out, and I realize that none of them can end well.
There must be a way out of this.All of my training, experience andinstinct, is telling me to look harder and find the one little piece that I'm missing.
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9 (Reading here)
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54
- Page 55
- Page 56
- Page 57
- Page 58
- Page 59
- Page 60
- Page 61
- Page 62
- Page 63
- Page 64
- Page 65
- Page 66
- Page 67
- Page 68
- Page 69
- Page 70