Hotel: The Phoenix Curse, #2

By Debra Rose

They've survived the curse, only to be captured by a world unimaginable.

The darkness of humanity waits for them.

And still... the diseased linger on...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Writing Roses
• Release date: Feb 13, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310974601

Debra Rose

Debra Rose is the author of The Phoenix Curse series, a bestseller in Amazon's post-apocalyptic and dystopian science fiction genre. Although she previously published under the pen name D.R. Johnson, all her new and current novels will be published under her full name. Debra is currently pursuing her bachelor's in arts at Southern New Hampshire University, and she lives in Texas with her husband and two children. Debra specializes in science fiction and the supernatural, although she has been known to stray into the realms of fantasy from time to time. Her books have graced the top of Amazon's bestseller lists and continue to captivate fans of the genre. Passionate about her craft, Debra continues to write enthralling stories that focus on character development during apocalyptic situations.

Book preview

The Phoenix Curse

Prologue

Shrouded by shadows, the old woman sat against the wall in the dingy hotel kitchen. She muttered to herself, occasionally pulling at the matted tangles of her hair with no intention of freeing any of the strands. It was simply a nervous habit. Her hair hadn't seen a brush in years.

Fear pressed her back into the shadows, as it so often did, but time was growing short. Soon, she would have to call someone's attention to her problem. She had to get dinner on, or there would be hell to pay.

Finally, fear of punishment over a late dinner forced her into action, and she shuffled to the big stove in the center of the room. Grabbing the dented, half-washed stew pot, she banged it against the steel stove, hoping the clamor would catch someone's attention.

No one came.

Mona let out a long, whiny wheeze from deep in her throat. It was the only sound she allowed herself to make to show her agitation. All other signs of protest had long since been beaten out of her.

Ben! She croaked out the name. Her hoarse voice was not any louder than her previous pot banging, but she was just getting started. Sucking in a deep breath, she called out again, achieving more volume. Ben!

Footsteps.

She cringed. The blood drained from her face, and she gripped the stove to keep from falling back. The footsteps weren't the slow, limping plod of Old Ben's. They were the high-pitched clack, clack, clack of well-worn, steel-toed cowboy boots. Those footsteps could only belong to one person. Nausea gripped her stomach as they announced his impending arrival.

Reed.

He paused in the doorway, scowling at her with his one glittering green eye. Panic would drag her to the abyss if he decided to punish her today. It wouldn't be the first time she fainted.

What? He barked.

Mona swallowed, trying to wet her dry throat so she could answer. Afraid to make him wait, she forced each word out in a croak. The gas is out again.

Silence. She waited anxiously for his reaction, wondering if he would think this worthy of a beating or if he would move on. She had one hope. The same hope that had saved her in the past. If she was beaten too badly, there would be no one to fix the men their supper.

Her luck held as he glowered at her for a few more seconds, finally spinning on his heel to clack, clack, clack back down the hall. His voice rumbled through the walls a moment later as he barked orders to his men.

Mona exhaled slowly and waited for the strength to flow back into her limbs. Reed was always around but she hadn't had a direct confrontation with him for a couple weeks. It was a ridiculous notion to hope he had forgotten about her, but it was still a shock to have him answer her call. There was one emotion she could cling to. One they couldn't beat out of her.

Hate.

And she hated that man. If only she had it in her to do anything about it.

Already long past her prime when the demons took over the world, Mona had thought herself lucky to find a place here in this hotel. She thought it was safe. For a while it was, but gradually that ended. It was no longer the haven it used to be. Far from it. Now, when the men spoke of supply runs, it was more often than not a reference to taking more women hostage.

Mona couldn't escape. She was old and her body broken. Survival outside the protective walls of the hotel was nil. She was painfully aware of that, and so were the men that held the women and children captive. That is why she remained unguarded. She prepared all the meals and knew that was the extent of her value. Once that ceased, so would her life. That she was sure of.

Gathering the set of smaller plates, Mona began to ready the lunches for the women. She set out seventeen plates and fetched the potatoes and goat cheese to slop out their small portions. She was meticulously covering the plates and balancing them on the three-shelved rolling cart when the clacking footsteps warned her Reed was returning.

Mona turned towards the door, awaiting him. This time she was more prepared for his arrival and was determined to stand on her own without the aid of the stove.

Russell killed another one. He grunted as he strode in.

Mona swallowed hard and tried to mask the quiver in her voice. Which one?

His voice was gruff and emotionless as he snapped back at her. Does it matter? Clean it up. Room 108.

Mona nodded, knowing it was against her better interest to speak again. Reed fixed a glare on her that made her regret her decision to avoid cowering behind the protection of the stove.

When he turned to leave, he grumbled over his shoulder. The gas will be back on soon. Don't be late with dinner.

Mona sagged, drained from her near miss as well as depressed about the loss of another girl. She never talked to them, never lingered in their rooms, but she knew them all. She kept a running tally in her head of all the women that had the misfortune of coming through here.

Once she finished loading the cart, Mona rolled it into the hall and made her way to the women's wing. She would only need sixteen of those plates now. Also, her reluctance in calling someone to fix the gas had led to another meal delay; dinner for the kids upstairs. The supper for the men came first. The kids would have to wait until after Reed and his men were taken care of. It wouldn't be the first time.

Mona rolled the cart around the corner and found Hawk standing guard. She felt somewhat relieved since Hawk wasn’t a hitter. His hazel eyes were expressionless as he turned to her, but he nodded his greeting just the same. Mona returned it, managing to keep the sneer off her face only as a matter of survival.

His heavy hand banged on the door he was standing at. Room 101.

Food cart. Feed the girls! He yelled against the door before turning back to Mona to say, Room 108.

Mona thought she saw a flicker of emotion in his eyes as he turned his head away from her. The flash was so quick, she figured she imaged it. She knew better. Every man here was a monster and this one was no different.

She gestured to the cart, saying, I left the extra plate. It's yours if you want.

Hawk nodded his thanks, reaching for one. His voice was low when he spoke. Skip my stew for tonight. This will do for me.

Mona wasn't able to stop her eyes from widening in disbelief. Those small portions wouldn’t satisfy the man. Hawk caught her slip and shrugged. He responded, Don't have much of an appetite today.

Mona nodded more to herself than to Hawk. She was just thankful no food was going to waste.

That ended their conversation. She continued down the hall as the door to 101 opened as she passed by. Crystal's caramel eyes glowered at her as Mona nodded a greeting. As she expected, Crystal ignored it. Instead, the dark woman turned a slimy leer to Hawk.

Don't you want to spend a little time with me this afternoon, honey? Crystal purred to the trim, muscular man as Mona continued walking away from them. She rolled her eyes at first, but soon smirked to herself when she heard Hawk's clipped response.

Feed the girls.

Crystal huffed but nothing else was said. Instead, the food cart rattled as it began to move again. The other woman was doing her job as ordered.

Crystal had been there for a long time. She had been hardened and scarred in Vegas before the world went mad and despite her age, she was able to apply her trade with Reed's men in order to win her life. Because she came willingly, she was the closest thing to a non-prisoner out of all the women here.

Mona tried not to judge her for that—it was a smart move to ensure her continued survival—but her attitude was something Mona couldn’t abide. Crystal kept herself apart from the other women, the prisoners, and gave the distinct impression she was better than everyone else. She laughed at the other women who didn’t share her willingness and was never bothered by the murders. Mona found it distasteful, but that was an opinion she would take to the grave.

The number 108 loomed before her and Mona steadied her resolve, preparing herself for the scene that would greet her once she opened the door. Russell was a monster. A very creative monster. She hoped Reed would get him under control before he killed any more of the women, but that was a far-fetched hope.

At one point, there had been forty girls captive. They had outnumbered the men. Then Reed allowed Russell to cull the herd, so to speak. Every now and then, the men would capture some more women to fill those empty rooms and the numbers would rise, but inevitably fall again. Not all the women were killed by Russell's hands. Some were killed trying to escape and some actually made it out. Those lucky few were probably killed by the demons outside. Mona figured that was the better fate.

The numbers had dwindled down so much lately that Mona really hoped Reed would put a stop to Russell's extracurricular activities. Every loss hurt.

The door creaked as Mona slowly pushed it open. All the rooms had the same layout. The bathroom was just inside the door and the short hallway opened up to the bedroom area. The one big window in this room had been boarded up to prevent escape and the curtains were drawn.

Muffled crying greeted the old woman.

Who's in here? Mona's voice was gruff. Impersonal. She knew better than to show the girls any emotion. Emotion could be turned against her in very imaginative ways. It was safer to not let the girls care for her, or to show them any in return.

No reply came.

The room was a dark cave with the curtains and boards blocking out the sun. Mona pulled out her matchbook and sparked a flame, lighting one of the small candles she always carried with her. Holding the candle before her, she revealed the source of the crying.

Jennifer. She was the younger of two girls that had been hauled in from Primm a few weeks ago. She was barely twenty years old and the other girl wasn't much older. Jennifer was tied to the only chair in the room. Most of her clothing had been cut away. Her face was puffy and swollen, and not just from crying. The bruises were already forming.

Seeing Jennifer in the chair, Mona knew who was in the bed.

Holding the candle up high, Mona revealed the grotesque scene. The naked body of Jamie, Jennifer's sister, lay across the bed. Both her arms and legs were spread out and bound to the bed by a thick, coarse rope. She was tied down to the mattress on her stomach, but her dead eyes were staring straight up at the ceiling. At least this time, there wasn't much blood.

As the light again showed Jennifer the body of her dead sister, her sobs renewed. Mona quickly lowered the candle, setting it on the dresser so she could release Jennifer from her bonds. Russell was good at knots and it took some work to get her untied. Once done, Mona struggled to drag the distraught woman out of the room.

Pulling her into the hallway, Mona's eyes caught Crystal's unsympathetic gaze, who was doling out the food dishes. Then she found Hawk's hazel eyes staring her way. This time, she was sure she saw emotion there as he came to her aid. She passed the crying woman off to him without a word and turned back to room 108.

Her stomach twisted as she stepped back into the darkened room.

1

Joss

Up in Flames

A chill swept through me, causing the hairs on my arms to stand up. It was followed by a wave of dizziness that threatened to push me down. I stared at the grass and dirt under the palms of my hands and swallowed the bile that rose in my throat. Forcing back the panic, I focused on Ali, who was still down on all fours. The gun held to the back of her head kept her frozen…

Then her head snapped towards me, a defiant look in her eyes. She had a white-knuckled grip on her knife, even as the woman that held the gun on her pressed the tip harder against her skull. Ali hadn't seen the other girl yet, nor the gun that was trained on me.

A cold sweat broke out all over my body and my stomach twisted in knots. The girl shifted behind me, stepping out to the side directly into Ali's view. Ali ground her teeth so hard I could hear it, but then she sighed, defeated, and released the hold on her knife.

Slowly, now. The older woman spoke in a raspy, harsh voice.

Ali rose to her knees and lifted both hands above her head. I followed her lead but couldn't stop trembling.

The older woman slowly circled around us, and I was finally able to get a look at her. Her hair was matted and oily, like it hadn't been washed for days. That wasn't an uncommon look for drifters, although the blood caked to her shirt was. It looked fresh.

I glanced at the girl that was holding the gun on me, seeing that she didn't even have her finger on the trigger. She stared back with wide brown eyes that made me think she was as frightened as I was. We broke eye contact when Ali spoke.

Vanessa? Ali's voice was questioning, Unsure. I looked again at the woman's dirty face as she scrutinized Ali, but I wasn't able to place her. When her hard glare turned to me, I visibly winced and found a patch of dirt to stare at instead.

I remember you two. Why are you back here now? Her voice was full of suspicion.

Ali answered, somehow able to sound calm although her voice cracked towards the end. I doubted I would have been able to get the words out at all. Passing through. We saw the smoke.

Vanessa's dark eyes squinted, and Ali met her glare defiantly. Where you coming from? Where you heading?

Lubbock, Ali snapped back quickly. I was growing more nervous by the second. Been there a couple months. We're heading back to Nevada.

Why? Vanessa didn’t relent.

Ali huffed and glared back up at her. I sucked in a breath as I watched Vanessa shift the rifle, but Ali didn't seem fazed. Her words were steady when she spoke. This time, her voice didn't crack. Because we travel. That's what we do. That's what we've always done.

A tense silence stretched out around us. The two women glared at each other while I struggled to breath. Finally, unexpectedly, Vanessa's face cracked into a smirk. You look like you could spit nails, girl.

I blinked in shock, as did Ali. She shot me a look that I couldn't decipher. It was taking all my energy just to hold myself together.

Vanessa seemed to relax some. She turned slightly and used the rifle to gesture to the billowing smoke that had once been a thriving settlement. When she turned back to face us, she held the rifle loosely in her hands with the tip pointed at the ground.

As you can see, Sundown isn't what it used to be. You're immune. If you're immune, then you ain't part of who did this to our town.

My eyes went wide with shock at her words. This was the first time I'd encountered anyone else that knew we could be immune. Ali didn't flinch at the woman's recognition at what we were. Her eyes just squinted momentarily, and she let the moment pass. They said nothing else on the subject, leaving me confused and unsure.

The older woman stepped forward and extended a hand to help Ali to her feet. I glanced again at the girl behind me and let out a long, pent-up breath as she lowered the gun. Her brown eyes had flecks of green in them, and her nose was splattered with freckles. She didn’t meet my gaze.

A sharp whisper turned my attention back to Ali and Vanessa. The whisper was low, as if I wasn't meant to overhear, but I was able to make out every word. It sent another shiver down my spine.

You keep those weapons right where they are or we'll take them from you. Vanessa had pulled Ali close and that action finally had Ali's eyes wide with shock. Just as quickly, Vanessa let her go. I stepped close to Ali, feeling weak in the knees and hoping the worst was over. As soon as I grasped her arm, she reached up to pat my hand as if to comfort me. It wasn't reassuring.

Alright Marley, keep that gun out. Vanessa addressed the girl and motioned for us to lead them down the hill. I think we got us some new friends here but better safe than sorry. Ain't that right, Ali?

Ali glanced over her shoulder but didn't say anything. It was one thing for Vanessa to make a show of holding the guns down but it was still nerve-racking to have them following behind us. I couldn't bring myself to look back.

We stumbled down the hill, arm in arm, while the two women followed behind us. It was Ali that spoke up first, breaking a long and awkward silence.

So, what caused the fire?

Not what. Vanessa was quick to respond. Who.

Ali's brow furrowed as she tossed a glance over her shoulder at Vanessa. Her lips pursed into a frown as she corrected herself. Who then?

Vanessa chuckled but changed the subject. You were a ghost the first time you came through here. Looks like something put the life back into you. The older woman turned her attention to me and her short question caught me off guard just enough to wrap my gut up in knots again. What was your name again, boy?

Joss, I stuttered, then added a belated, Ma'am.

Vanessa cackled; a hoarse, dry laugh that sounded natural. I cast a wary look behind me, not understanding at first what she found so funny. "No one's called me ma'am in a long time. Ali's been raising you up proper it seems. Not much place for that left in this world but good to see it ain't gone completely."

I relaxed at her response while Ali tensed beside me. It took me a moment to understand why, but I finally assumed it was because of the time we had been apart. She felt guilty. Nothing I had said so far had helped ease that pain, but all that mattered to me was that she came back.

We both let Vanessa's comment slip by without a response.

You got room in that truck of yours to get us all back to our camp? Vanessa questioned and this time Ali visibly stiffened. That earned another chuckle from the older woman. You think we didn't notice a vehicle driving around out here? That is one rare sight indeed.

Ali chuckled dryly before she responded. Sure. We can make room.

Good. Most of the diseased were attracted to the showdown over there but might still be a few wandering about. Don't want to take any chances.

I understand, Ali said simply and changed direction toward the Murano.

Goosebumps rose on my arms as I looked across the landscape. It had been hard getting used to the deadbrains at first, and they still managed to make me shiver. It was a different story for the women that followed us. I spared them a look, seeing that both of them were paying more attention to the surrounding area than to Ali and me. It gave the illusion that the guns they held were their protection against the deadbrains instead of against us. The thought helped calm me, despite what had been a dire situation only moments ago.

Everything seemed peaceful. Nothing else moved across the barren terrain, aside from a few birds and squirrels. There was a chill in the air, but nothing like what we'd experienced during the storm a week ago. It didn't even feel like winter now.

Luckily, there were no deadbrains around, and we were soon back to where we had stashed the Murano. Ali immediately started in on moving everything from the backseat into the cargo hold. Marley followed me to the back and helped shift some items around so everything would fit. We hadn't overloaded on our last haul, so it wasn’t that difficult.

I kept my eye on Marley, but it seemed she had lost interest in me. I came to the conclusion that her eyes were just naturally wide. Her face was permanently fixed with a deer-in-headlights look. I wanted to ask her how they had been the ones to find us, but I never could drum up the nerve.

I'm sorry. Vanessa said out of the blue. I looked at her, wondering why she had apologized. Her cheeks were flushed when she continued. It's just that we've lost a lot in the past two days.

Ali was studying her intently, and I felt left out after missing what started the conversation. After a few moments, Ali responded. Most of what I carry is for trade supplies and I always meant to pass it on to the Elders in Sundown anyway.

Vanessa nodded in acknowledgment but the conversation died. We continued to pack things away in silence when I noticed Vanessa had tears running down her cheeks. I shared a look with Ali. She had seen it too but ignored it. I shifted awkwardly while Ali finished repacking our supplies without comment.

Once everything was rearranged, Ali motioned for me to take the back seat with Marley so Vanessa could sit up front. I climbed in first and waited for the women to get settled.

When Ali started up