SURVIVAL

Short Story

The clouds hang like heavy ash in the sky; the gray washes out any hope for the sun, for light. He watches the horizon from the long wooden porch. This place has the feel of a fifty’s lodge. A lifetime ago, all he had to do was worry about his deadlines and demanding clients, now he worries about whether or not his friends and family will survive. His smile droops, fades. This place full of snow and cold and ice wraps them in a cloak from what has happened, what is still happening. It’s easy enough to dissociate himself from the truth of what their lives have come to and the isolation of their existence makes it even simpler. Sitting on the old porch, time and memory rewind.

When Phoenix is away, Thor pretends. He sits with his wife Adora on the porch in the summers and listens to the birds, the insects and he imagines he is the hills. When the night falls and the warmth of the day recedes, he remembers they aren’t in a dated haven, they are far within the mountains of the north country close to the border. The silence is broken only by the sounds of the birds and insects inhabiting the wood around the bend. Thor fears the occasional lull when all of the sounds stops and leaves him alone with his thoughts. However, before long, his ears are full again and he can forget once again. Everything that existed before seems like just a dream; clear and crisp in his first waking moment but growing fainter with the passing of the day.

His life, his job occupies a different place now, a different timeline. He lives in a world where a virus spread across the human population transforming people into beasts, monsters, and maybe even angels. No scientist can explain it, and no doctor can treat it. The curse has run its course, most variants or whatever the popular name is these days are no longer infectious, yet people fear them.

When the virus infected Phoenix, Thor vowed not to abandon his friend. It had been Phoenix after all, who’d stepped in his place and took the full assault of the attack when Thor had been nearly contaminated. He stood by Phoenix as the first transformation took him, as it contorted bones, and muscles, as it reshaped and modeled him into a new being. The metamorphosis held a certain allure, a hideous fascination about it. He cradled Phoenix as his body rejected its human identity to become something more, something strange, and foreign, and right.

Thor still thinks of it as right to this day. Even through all of the hardships they’ve endured together and apart. Now as part of the underground to assist fleeing variants, Thor and Adora wait in their cottage for signs of Phoenix. The year of running came to an end when Thor stopped it. He told his wife and his friend, he couldn’t watch one more person killed or mutilated or imprisoned just because they’d become infected with a virus. He contacted sources and they worked together to construct the underground railroad, a new version of it, to shepherd those inflicted to the outreaches, beyond the cities in the quiet somber places of this world where people, bigoted people, would leave them in peace.

The adoration given to him by his wife that day keeps him warm still on all the frigid winter nights. He curls her in his arms and she wraps her body around him. They stay trapped in each other’s embrace until morning and the long wait for Phoenix. After they set up the underground passage Phoenix sat by the fireplace one night, his wings draped over his shoulders. The blazing flames glowed across the glistening feathers. He decided at that moment to not only sit and watch as his people, his kind moved across the landscape, to help. He became an integral part of the underground.

Thor scans the sky once again; it has been too long. Phoenix should have returned by now. The threat of snow howls past him as the wind takes hold of the trees. Their empty crowns bend and curse the gusts as the snow whips in small cyclones. The fir trees peppered throughout the yard and toward the street lend them some protection, some seclusion against prying eyes. Both Thor and Adora have learned the art of hiding from Lewis, a self-professed recluse. They’ve settled into this little border town while making sure no one knows of Phoenix’ existence. If anyone did, he would be in danger �" they all would be.

How little people can get when they do not understand something. Thor shakes his head and pulls his jacket closed. He leaves those thoughts behind as the air about him changes in pressure, as gravity itself shifts, moves and suddenly Phoenix appears gliding from the thick clouds to the base of the porch. The beat of his wings moves the air in waves.

Without a word, Thor joins him to usher Phoenix into the warmth of the cottage. The length of the flight and his exertions kept Phoenix warm but as soon as he stumbles to his feet, he begins to shiver. He wears no shirt, only a harness strapped to his chest and his wings he tucks close to his body as he enters the living room.

Thor guides him to the large stone fireplace and pulls an afghan from the couch. He lays it over Phoenix’ legs and as Adora comes into the room grabs a towel from her. Phoenix stretches out his wings and buries his face in his bent legs, putting his folded arms on his knees. This part is always the most difficult. Phoenix only allows Thor to do it; he doesn’t trust himself around Adora. With delicate and deliberation tenderness, Thor covers the wings with the towel, drying out the feathers.

Phoenix hitches a breath.

“Okay?”

He only makes a low groan in his throat. For anyone to touch Phoenix’ wings causes him great pain. It shouldn’t be like this; this is Thor’s fault. During Phoenix’ first transformation, Thor suggested he unfurl his wings in the yard during the high sun. Phoenix complied and the wings, the feathers flayed away, the shaft disintegrating into cinders and empty hulls. Thor still remembers the screeches of pain, the blood smeared all over his basement when they locked Phoenix there as the virus overtook him again. Later, Thor researched and found out that during the first twenty-four hours after the transformation exposure to the sun could be lethal. Phoenix is lucky he didn’t die, but what it did do to him is make his wings when he cycled through a transformation extremely sensitive.

Like any other victim of the plague, Phoenix cannot abide the sun and must stay secluded indoors during the height of the day. Cloudy days, storms relieve him of this imprisonment, and they utilize these times as best they can. Phoenix’ wings are especially sensitive because he has remained in his transformed state for weeks rather than days. The transformation occurs, cycles through time and then dissipates. He should have been the old Phoenix about ten days ago, Thor figures.

It isn’t the old Phoenix.

Thor touches Phoenix’ wings again, drying with care as he flutters and hisses. Thor places his hand on Phoenix’ chest, feeling the throb of his heart. He knows this centers Phoenix, helps him, distracts him from what Thor is doing as he cleans the feathers, the shafts, the long hollow bones emerging from his back. Phoenix grabs onto Thor’s hand, clamping it against his chest as he bites his lip. The pain causes him to clip his lip and a small spot of blood stains his chin.

“Okay, okay,” Phoenix says and pushes Thor away. “I’m fine. We have to plan, they’re coming.”

Adora stands over them as they kneel in front of the fire. Her eyes refract the light into prisms of color. She carries a tray with wine glasses and a bottle. Sliding it onto a table, she sits next to them and hands a glass to Phoenix. He only takes sip of it before she is taking it away and handing him a sandwich and fruit on a plate. He sets it aside and wards of her protests.

“I’m pretty sure we have to get out of here,” Phoenix says as Thor finishes cleaning his left wing.

“What do you mean? Why?”

“My last drop off didn’t go well,” Phoenix says. He shudders as Thor tugs at the feathers to wipe away grime. He stops in mid-task to listen to Thor. “Don’t worry, they’re safe. But when I was coming back I did a little reconnaissance.”

“Look at you all professional,” Thor comments.

“Thor, you know how to hurt a guy,” Phoenix says with a short chuckle. “The roads look, well, they look like their setting up roadblocks, checkpoints.”

“Could it be from the storm?” Adora asks as she forces the sandwich into his hands again. “Maybe they’re closing off the roads due to the weather.”

“Then it is just roads coming up to our place,” Phoenix says as he takes a bit of the sandwich at the same time he flinches when Thor dabs the cloth too close to his ribs.

“What?” Thor pulls the straps of the harness away. Phoenix uses the harness to transport refugees to the closest checkpoint beyond the border. He usually transports only one person at a time. It takes hours and drains him of all of his strength. As Thor gathers the straps in one hand, he notices a stain of blood. “What the hell is this?”

Thor shrugs him off and stands, not finishing his sandwich. “We can’t worry about it. I’m telling you, they’re coming. At the very least, they know that you’re part of the underground.”

Thor stands and places his hands at his waist. “At worst, they know about your involvement.” He glances out the window. “They’ll wait until morning, if that’s the case. They’ll want you at your weakest.”

Phoenix shuffles his feathers and tiny drops of water from the melted snows flick to the hardwood floor. “We have to leave. Do we have the emergency bag packed?”

Adora stands near the window and yanks back the curtain to study the sky. “It’ll start snowing soon. How are we going to get out of here before they come?”

Thor glances at Phoenix; there is an unspoken language between them. It isn’t a special talent or an ability given to them because of Phoenix’ condition; it is the way of their friendship. They can still speak volumes without voicing a word.

“We can’t,” Thor curses. “They have the road blocked, probably military dogs in the woods. There isn’t any way out for us.” By ‘us’, he means Adora and himself. He turns to Adora as he says, “You leave, Phoenix, go. You’ll be safer that way.”

Phoenix rustles his feathers but then settles his wings as if they are a large cloak about his shoulders. The glow of the fire dances about his glimmering wings, his bare chest scarred with blood. “No, I can’t accept that, Thor. You’ve been there, both of you, for me. I’m not leaving you. Do you know what they do to people of the underground?”

As Thor looks around the small comfortable cottage he and his wife have made home these many months, he wants to spit, he wants to rage, he wants to vomit. All that they worked for and hoped for has come down to this moment.

“You’re coming with me,” Phoenix says as he moves into the short hallway off the main living room. He swings open the closet door and pulls out the backpack. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to carry much of your belongings, but I promise once I revert back to my old form I can get you whatever you want.”

“Whoa,” Thor says and grabs Phoenix’ wrist. “You are not taking both of us, there is no way you can handle both of us in the air.”

“You underestimate me,” Thor says.

Phoenix smiles “love, talk some sense into him. I need to clean up then we leave.”

Phoenix climbs the stairs, but Thor catches the slow stumble. He is exhausted; he can’t let Phoenix do this, he cannot sacrifice himself for them. He peers at Adora and there is a shallow lost look in her eyes. Glimpsing the slight wetness there, he crosses the room and wraps her in his embrace.

“Sweetheart,” he whispers as he threads his fingers through her hair. She has been their rock, pragmatic and inspiring. There is no one he loves more or could possibly love as much. He rests his head on hers.

“We won’t see each other again, will we?”

As soon as the police force converges on the cabin and they surrender, Thor will be forever separated from her. Their life together is over. Fear of the unknown, or unacceptable has taken hold of so many. Narrow thoughts and unstoppable hatred turned into law.

“We have right now, love, right now.” He feels every inch of her even as he doesn’t move. This living soul in his arms is all of his world.

“I’d do it again, even if I knew,” Adora says, giving him the forgiveness that he needs.

“My love,” he says again and she murmurs the same back to him.

As they fall into one another’s embrace, a clatter interrupts them and Phoenix staggers down the steps. His eyes are fierce and his wings like a fiery cape behind him. “They’re here.”

“Damn,” Thor says and falters as he tries to find his center.

“There’s no time,” Phoenix says as he unlocks the harness and hands Adora her coat. “You’ve have to be tied in and Thor, I’ll need you to hold onto Adora.”

Thor raises his hands and they both step back. “We’re not going, Phoenix. We’re staying here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Thor. You’re coming with me.” He shoves the coat at Adora when she doesn’t move to take it. “Adora, take the coat.”

She shakes her head.

“We don’t have time for this,” Phoenix says. “If you don’t come with me, I’m not leaving. Do you understand, Thor. I will not leave. Do you know what that means?”

“Phoenix, you can’t do this to me,” Thor says. “Get out, now.”

“No.” Phoenix stands his ground. The longer he waits the more danger. Thor glances at the window and can see the flash of lights. If phoenix stays, he is a dead man. There is no question, no hope. All captured victims of the plague suffer the same fate in the end. Death.

“Damn it, Phoenix.” Thor pushes the curtain aside and sees the sirens at the end of their long drive. “Get your coat on Adora, we’re leaving.”

It takes seconds for Adora and Thor to struggle into their coats. There’s no time to pack their things and, for once Thor is happy they left Mittens with Adora’s parents months ago. A life on the run is no life for a pampered Persian.

Phoenix slips the harness over Adora’s head after they’ve moved to the back of the house. They tie it on and then rig another strap around Thor’s waist. Thor wraps a leather strap looped over his shoulders and Phoenix clamps it to the harness at his own shoulders.

“Hold on to Adora, I’ll hold onto the waist strap around you, Thor.” They stand on the deck in the back of the house.

“Wait,” Adora says. They stop. “No, never mind, just pulling a Scarlett O’Hara, thought I needed to lock the door.”

Phoenix smiles and winks at her. “We all love the classics.” With a push and a thrust against gravity, Phoenix propels them into the air. The take- off convulses as Phoenix attempts to find his equilibrium. There is a pause when Thor is sure they will topple back to the Earth, and then with a deep swoop of his wings Phoenix lifts them higher.

From the ground, Thor hears calls and shots ring out. A bullet whizzes by his head and he glares at Phoenix. His friend isn’t concentrating on the action coming from below but is hoisting them higher into the sky, above the treetops, and higher still. As he makes for the zenith, Phoenix muscles undulate, his shoulder rotating as his wings haul them with each beat.

Adora has her hands and arms triple wrapped around the straps that sling over and under Phoenix’ shoulders. Her head lies on his chest and Thor wonders if she listens to the rhythm of his heart as it pumps with the pounding of his wings. The snow swirls about them but Phoenix never stops, never lets up as they surge upward. Thor keeps hold of his wife, clinging to the straps and locking her in place. Thor braces his hold around Phoenix, making sure not to interfere with the driving effort of his wings.

The air eddies around them like currents of freezing waters and he feels a shiver run down his spine. Adora cocooned between the two of them is warm and as he studies Phoenix, Thor realizes sweat spreads across his brow, wets his hair, drips in rivers down his cheeks. They are out, away from the small cottages dotting the landscape to the open areas. Thor knows Phoenix heads to the border crossing; there is a small underground patrol just north of the border waiting for fleeing refugees.

Though he cannot look back, look down upon the last sights of his own country, Thor’s heart aches at the betrayal. He cannot answer the question that eats away at his soul, his spirit. How can a country abandon its own people? Why does equality only define itself for the majority?

From his position, he gazes at the lift and grace of Phoenix’ wings. The movement is like a fine ballet with strength and endurance. The snow ripples around the feathers, touching and gleaming as it falls. Phoenix glides lower as they fly towards Phoenix needs to conserve his strength if they want to make the crossing without being detected. He heads away from the border patrol.

The exhaustion must cloud his judgment or confuse him because as he navigates toward the crossing, he leans toward a westerly route. Thor tries to indicate to Phoenix that he’s off track. It only takes a second for Phoenix to understand, to see his mistake, but it is too late.

Several spotlights search the sky and reflect off of the iridescent glow of Phoenix’ wings. There is no warning call, they are known to be escapees. The world clashes as shots ring through the air. Phoenix yells for them to hold on and he dives toward the tree line and the crossing.

Another volley of gunfire cracks through the air, flaring in the dark. He hears Phoenix offer a low groan and their bodies jolt. Adora muffles a scream against Phoenix’ body and Thor seizes hold of Phoenix. Their flight falters, swaying in a wide arc and for one moment Thor thinks they are crashing. As they spiral toward the wooded area, Phoenix gives a great heave and they launch into the air again. Another burst of gunfire follows them, but Phoenix steers them free of the border patrol. In seconds as they cross over the border, Phoenix is dropping.

Their descent starts as a glide, but slowly loses any form of control, and they are tumbling, plummeting toward the forest. The branches of the trees grab, and yank at them like skeletal hands. Phoenix cannot control a scream as his wing catches on the branch and he falls. In a jumbled ball, they plunge to the forest floor. Nothing breaks their fall but the gnarled fingers of broken branches, rocks, and a coating of newly fallen snow. They roll and skid to a stop as they finally hit the ground.

It takes a second for Thor to get his bearings, to realize he is not dead and they’ve made it across to safety. It takes only a second more for him to forget about himself and check on his wife and Phoenix. Adora is huddled in a bundle between them and answers immediately upon Thor’s call. Phoenix is another story.

Phoenix lies with his face slacken and unresponsive to the side. Thor says his name, but no response.

“Thor, let’s get out of this contraption first,” Adora suggests.

He knows she’s right, so he listens. The leather straps are twisted and wet making it doubly hard to manipulate. Phoenix’ inert form adds to the difficulty. After a few too many curses, Thor extricates them from the harness and leather belted straps. Once he is finished with his task, he turns his attention to Phoenix.

“I think he was hit in the back,” Adora says. “He was shot, Thor.”

Thor nods but says nothing. It is no use to scare Adora. Taking hold of Phoenix’ shoulder, Thor turns Phoenix onto his abdomen. Red stains color the white feathers. Thor swallows a gasp as he notices the deteriorated state of the wings. Phoenix is very close to the end of this transformation cycle. He’s used the last of his strength to get them to safety; there won’t be any left to save himself.

“Thor?”

As Thor reaches to examine Phoenix’ back, he hears a movement in the trees about him. He looks up into the shadows, only dribbles of light answer him. Adora crouches over Phoenix and fingers under his left wing, shifting the bulk of the feathers back to reveal a mass of blood.

“Looks like it hit the wing, maybe his side,” Adora says as she caresses Phoenix’ cheek. “Can you hear me, Phoenix? Phoenix?”

A howling startles them and Thor jumps to his feet as Adora spreads her arms as if to protect Phoenix. Moving from the black shades of trees, a figure followed by a large dog steps out to greet them. The hooded figure offers empty hands to Thor and then kneels at Phoenix’ side.

For too many heart beats, Thor waits as Adora watches the mystery person investigate Phoenix’ wounds. The figure tugs down her hood and looks up to Thor and says, “Welcome home.”

“Alexandra!” Thor says and he embraces his friend. He has never been so happy, so relieved as he has in this moment. Adora is hugging Alexandra close and they are wiping away tears. “I didn’t think you were at the border. I thought you were in the settlement up north with Joshua.”

Alexandra frowns and waves to the wooded area. Several people join them. She directs them to transport Phoenix to the vehicle as she says to Thor, “Let’s get somewhere safe first, okay?”

He agrees. The night surrenders to the dawn as the day crests over the horizon. The snow still falling keeps the day silent, quiet, almost reverent as they move through the narrow pathways in the forest. They stumble onto what Thor thinks is probably a dirt road. Sitting parked by the side of the road are several SUVs. They place Phoenix into one of the largest ones and both Thor and Adora make their way to it. Phoenix is placed in the bed of the SUV as Thor climbs in to join him. Alexandra follows him and asks Adora to sit in the second row; she does.

Thor hasn’t been introduced to anyone, just yet, and right now, he doesn’t care. He doesn’t think he would remember anyone’s name anyhow. He just wants to know Phoenix will be okay, he wants to get out of the cold, and he wants a damned cup of coffee. Glancing up, he catches Adora’s eyes. She smiles, a low weak expression. He stretches his hand to her and they grasp hands for a moment, saying so much and so little.

“How long has he been in his transformed state?” Alexandra asks?

“More than two weeks, nearly three,” Adora answers.

“Three?” Alexandra shakes her head. “He has to shed the virus or else it’ll kill him.” As the SUV rumbles over the terrain, she pulls out a first aid kit and starts to clean his wound. “Looks like it just nicked his side.”

Thor peers over her shoulder as she wipes away the blood and he notes the shattered bones of the wing. He swallows down his fear and says, “I thought you and Joshua were up at the settlement, not down doing the patrols.”

Alexandra doesn’t turn to look at him, continues to work on Phoenix’ bullet wound. “Joshua isn’t-.”

“Isn’t?”

“He was strong and brave; fearless as a lion.” Her movements are harsh and Phoenix is coming around. A groan stops her and she pats him on the shoulder to calm him, and then proceeds to bandage the wound.

“What happened, Alexandra?”

She looks up at Thor and her eyes are hard, unforgiving yet with a yielding in them. “He’s dead, he died trying to help. He died because he wouldn’t listen to me and if you don’t get Phoenix to listen to you, he’s going to end up the same way,” Alexandra says as the SUV takes a road up the side of the hill.

He lets the silence fall, allows her a peace and space to steady herself before he speaks. “I’m sorry, Alex.” He reaches out and grabs her hand. Adora holds her hand on Alex’s shoulder for a moment.

She nods and shrugs them off. “It’s okay. Josh did what he thought was right. He wanted to help out. You know he was the last one to be infected?” Alexandra frowns but adds, “He was always such a pain when he got an idea about something. Had to have it his way, his way or nothing.”

“Sounds like someone we know,” Thor says as he checks on Phoenix. He seems to be sleeping and not unconscious.

At this, Alex smiles. “He took the risks, too. He remained in his transformed state for too long. It killed him. You can’t let him do the same thing, I saw it once. I don’t want to see it again.”

“Don’t worry, Phoenix will listen.”

“Will he?”

Thor nods but he just doesn’t know. The SUV parks in front of a handful of small cottages. It looks like it used to be a roadside motel with separate small cabins for each of the guests.

“We’ll stop here for the night, and then travel up in the morning.” Phoenix says.

As they wrestle to get Lewis out of the bed of the vehicle, he comes to with a startle yelp, then curls up in a ball. A seizure of pain threads through his muscles and tendons and his body rebels as it twists and contorts.

“Damn it, he’s in the fall out phase,” Thor says at the same time Adora yells, “He’s reverting back.”

“Can we get him into a cabin?” Alex asks as Phoenix drops from the bed of the SUV onto the ground. His shoulder hits the bumper and he cries out.

The shafts of the wings wither as they waste away. The feathers start to fly away in the light wind and with each broken shaft a sprinkle of blood splotches the snow. Even as Alexandra and the driver reach down to carry Phoenix into the cabin, Thor blocks them and hovers over him.

“Don’t,” Thor says. “He’s too sensitive right now, and far too strong to fight off.”

As Thor stands guard over Phoenix, Adora calls out instructions. She directs Alex’s crew what they will need to make Phoenix comfortable following his reversion back into human form. The fatigue and pain should be treated with warm compresses, analgesics, and a place where he can sleep on his abdomen without having to move for a few days. Everyone listens and as Thor watches he realizes half of the crew is made up of a motley assembly of variants from winged to clawed to those with manes and fins. He isn’t too proud to admit it scares him but it also inspires him.

As the shudders rip into Phoenix and he sobs through the pain, Thor cradles him in his arms. Adora dabs a cloth over Phoenix’ brow and hushes him. The beautiful, glowing wings disintegrate into a pile of ash and splintered bones. Within the hour, Phoenix staggers to his feet with Thor and Adora at his side. They settle him in the cabin in a nest of blankets. He sleeps undisturbed.

When the next day dawns Thor glances out at the sky again. The snow falls in crest and ripples, not showing any signs of stopping. Alex stands next to him, her eyes vibrant and harsh.

“We’ll stay here until Phoenix’ ready to move.”

He considers it and agrees then says, “You know, I gave a good portion of my life to my job and being a good citizen, and what good did it do? I’m on the run with my wife. My best friend has a death sentence on his head for no good reason and people I love are losing people they love.” He tastes the edges of guilt and hatred.

She tempers him. “Sometimes people lose their way, it takes a while. Josh knew. He always saw the good in people.” She looks down at her ring, still on her finger. She lifts her hand and lets the little bit of light shine off the band. “But things change, because of good people.”

“We lost our way, Alexandra.”

“We’ll find our way back, always, Thor.” Alexandra touches his arm and says, “Have faith.” She leaves him then.

He stares out the window and wonders.