LONG ROAD AHEAD

2

Phoenix dropped down over the wall and ran down the street. She bolted around the corner and ducked down low behind a large barrel. She was small, and the barrel easily hid her tiny frame as she crouched in a small ball. She heard the heavy thud of the man chasing her, hitting the dirt as he came over the wall. He was fast, faster than the others that had chased her in the past. He had figured out her scam right quick, too; he was not as dumb as he looked.

            Phoenix waited quietly, hoping she had gone unseen. After a few minutes, she braved a glance around the barrel and saw him walking away in the opposite direction. Her mouth curved in a triumphant smile. She reached for the small sack she had pinched from his pocket and opened it up to see what the reward for her efforts would be. Inside she found numerous red rubies and gold pieces.

            A profitable take. Normally she was not so lucky as to get so much. She wondered just what he had done to come into so much wealth. He had been a man of unusual strength and fitness for the times. A man that was accustomed to eating well with meat and muscle on his bones.

            She had been close enough for a brief time to have noticed that besides his dark torn jeans and worn brown wool shirt, he had donned full black leather chest armour, protective arm coverings, and shin guards. Like her, he wore a thick weapons belt and was fully armed. The crisscross holster across his chest, complete with shotgun rounds, told her he likely had twin shotguns strapped to his back beneath that heavy black cloak he wore.           

            On his narrow hips, she had seen the hilt of what had looked like a broadsword. She also saw a hunting knife tucked into his boot, a pistol in a holster on his hip, as well as small throwing knives, rigged securely to the leather bindings on the insides of his forearms for easy ready access. It had not been easy to get to his pocket beneath that heavy belt, but Phoenix was a professional, and she had spotted that fat purse he was carrying.

            Bumping into him was a little obvious, but it gave her the time she required to lift his purse. She had to admit though he had been quite attractive for a man. Long chestnut hair beneath his hood pulled back off his handsome face. Like her, he roamed, she was willing to bet on it, she could tell from his deeply bronzed skin and the three canteens he had been filling. His eyes were as dark as the midnight sky. His features were rugged in a strange, almost angelic sort of way.

            He was young, though; she could tell, not much older than her. Judging from his attire, he was a hunter, possibly. Then again, she had never known a hunter to have so much on them. Perhaps an assassin, if that were the case, it was best he had not caught her. There was no telling what an angry assassin might do once he caught up to the thief that had robbed him.

            Phoenix proudly bounced the tiny sack of rubies in her palm; luckily, she was quick on her feet. She stood up, tucking the pouch into her pocket. She was hungry, and tonight she did not have to catch her dinner. She could not wait to sleep in an actual bed. Phoenix wandered her way through the town until she found the local rundown bar.

            Inside, the windows were blacked out to keep the sun and the heat out. Candles and the odd oil lamp dimly lighted the room. Small wooden tables filled the lower room, with customers, normals and mutants alike, eating mystery meat with lousy warm grog. A pale, sickly man stood behind the bar; he was likely the owner. Phoenix looked up to the second level observing the half-nude women leaning lazily over the rail, whispering and giggling as they waited for a customer.

            Phoenix walked up to the bar. She sat down, placing her bow and quiver at her feet. She pushed her hood down and her cloak back over her shoulders then took a ruby from her pocket and placed it on the bar. “I want a meal and a bed,” she ordered.

            “I don’t rent rooms to women,” the owner said, placing a dirty, chipped mug before her filling it with a warm grog.

            “You are rooming them,” she said, nodding to the whores on the upstairs rail.

            “That is different. They work here. Do you want to earn your keep?” He asked with a toothless grin. “I could get a lot for a girl like you.”

            “I pay my way,” she snapped, pushing the ruby over to him. “I think you can spare a bed for the night.”

            “If I do that, then there will be one less working room when a man comes in,” he argued. 

            Phoenix looked around at the men at the tables and then up at the bored women above. It did not look like he was getting a lot of business to begin with. “I don’t think that will be a problem.”

            “I do,” he said, standing firm on the matter. Women were second-class citizens in the wasteland. Valued less than the rats in the alley. In the wasteland, women had two uses - s*x and breeding men. You were either some man’s w***e or some man’s wife, which in truth was not any better. Neither was a desirable life, and Phoenix refused to live either. She lived off the land and knew how to take care of herself. She needed no man’s protection.

             Phoenix reached into her pocket, taking out a second ruby, she pushed it along the bar to the owner, who smiled as he picked it up. In the wasteland for a high enough price, even women could buy their way. “On second thought, a room has just become available.”

            “How lucky am I,” she smiled, picking up her drink. Phoenix lifted it to her lips. It was a vile concoction lukewarm and served in filth, but once she was done, she would feel a buzz and who would care anymore.

            “I’ll bring out your meal in a moment,” the owner assured her. His dark sunken eyes raked over her with approval.

            Phoenix picked up her bow and quiver, heading over to a little wooden table. She sat down with her back to the wall. It did not take her long to notice the man in the corner staring at her. He was older with dark thinning hair. His face was slim, and he looked tired and sickly, as so many people often did. He was old enough to have been her father, but the look in his dark eyes was far from fatherly. At his feet was a brown leather satchel that looked full. Phoenix wondered what treasures she could find inside if given a chance.

            The owner placed a metal platter of charred mystery meat in front of her. It had been chopped and mangled beyond recognition. “What was it?” She asked, staring at the blackened remains.

            “It is best not to ask,” he said gruffly, walking away. He was probably right. It was often easier to stomach one’s meal if you did not think about it. Phoenix picked up a piece of meat and placed it into her mouth. She resisted the urge to gag. It was terrible, thank God for the awful grog to wash it down.        

            She suffered her meal and drank down her grog. Phoenix kept glancing over at the man with the satchel. She offered him a flirtatious smile coaxing him out of his seat. Her beauty was an asset she made full use of to distract or bait her marks. After a moment, he rose from his seat, mug and satchel in hand. He came over to her table. “May I have this seat?” He asked, kicking the other seat at her table out for him to take.

            “I’m not stopping you,” Phoenix said as sweet as could be, casually reaching for her pistol beneath the table. She had not made it this long on her own by being trusting; Phoenix casually pointed her weapon at the stranger below the table. Phoenix was no fool. If he intended to cause trouble, she would put him in his grave. You could never trust anyone; men especially were untrustworthy. She had never met one that had not tried to double-cross her or betray her in some way. Hell, her father had tried to sell her into slavery for the price of a meal. Most women paired off with men for protection and survival; Phoenix did better on her own. 

            He took the seat, placing the satchel on the floor between them. “Is the food not utterly miserable?” He chuckled, trying to break the ice.

            “Deplorable,” she agreed.

            “My name is Adam,” he introduced himself. “And you are?”

            “Jezebel,” she lied.

            “Do you pass through town often?”

            “No,” she said, not too interested in getting to know him. Her interest, however, did lay on what might be inside that bag. Phoenix still had not decided how she would take it. “Do you?” She asked, furthering the conversation as she plotted the best way to acquire what she desired.

            “From time to time.”

            “Do you come from a nearby town?” She asked in the interest of idle chitchat.

            “No,” Adam smiled then looked around to see if anyone was listening in. He leaned in close to her, wiggling his finger gesturing for Phoenix to come closer, so he did not have to speak so loudly. Cautiously Phoenix leaned forward just a little to hear what he had to say. “I come from a settlement in Cyprus,” he whispered and then placed his finger to his lips to swear her to secrecy. “I was banished for breaking the rules, but I will one day return,” he said and then began to cough.

            Phoenix sat back to keep her distance from his coughing. She scoffed at his obvious lie. Cyprus was a myth, a place where trees and plants still grew, where the air was fresh, and the water clean. Where animals could thrive, the soil was rich and could be farmed, where survivors were healthy, free from genetic mutations. No radiation remained. A virtual paradise compared to the hell the world was in now. The nuclear wars had destroyed everything everywhere. Survivors had wandered the known world, and so far, all anyone had ever seen was wasteland. There was nothing out there but death and desert.

            “You don’t believe me?” Adam observed as she drank from her mug.

            “I stopped believing in wives’ tales a long time ago,” Phoenix smiled.

            “It is not a wife’s tale,” Adam insisted, reaching down and opening his satchel. He reached inside, removing an old ratty looking book that was tied shut with leather lace. Phoenix had not seen a book in years. Most of them had been destroyed hundreds of years ago. Few people had found books that were still intact, and even fewer could read them. Those who could read hoarded books like they were treasures. Adam moved his chair closer to hers, removing the string that held it closed. “Do you know what this is?” He asked.

            “A book,” did he think her a simpleton?

            He smiled a yellow tooth grin then coughed again. His cough was hoarse, coming from deep in his chest. Phoenix noticed a spot of blood on his hand as he wiped his lips. “Yes, it is a book,” Adam said as he opened it up. He opened it to white pages with hand-drawn pictures of trees and animals that looked like he had sketched them himself. “How would I know these?”

            “I don’t know. A good imagination?” Phoenix guessed.

            Adam flipped to a page in the back and then looking around one last time, he held the book so no one but the two of them could see it. Adam turned the page, and Phoenix’s eyes widened with awe. “Then, where would I have gotten this?” She could not believe what she saw pressed between those pages. It was flat and dried, probably had been for years. “It is a leaf,” he whispered with a giggle in his voice. “A real leaf. Have you ever seen a leaf?”

            She had not. All the trees she had seen were long dead. Phoenix reached up, her fingers ever so lightly touching the leaf. She could not believe her own eyes. Adam then flipped to the next page to show her something else. It had a long stem, a single small leaf, and tiny little white petals.

            “It is called a flower,” he said, snapping the book shut suddenly and tied it closed. “Where would I get those if not from Cyprus?”

            Phoenix had to admit she did not have an answer; there was nowhere in the wasteland that she knew of where either of those things could be found. “I don’t know,” she was intrigued by the book. Fascinated by the idea that Cyprus could be real, but if it was, where was it? Why had no one seen it? Phoenix flashed Adam her most sweetest of smiles. “How would one find Cyprus?” She asked, running her hand over his arm seductively.

            Adam smiled back at her. “Well, now like I said, I am planning on heading back one day. I would love to have some pleasurable company for the trip,” he suggested. She knew exactly what he wanted from her. It was the same thing every man wanted when they looked at her.

            “But how would we find our way back to Cyprus? You must have been gone for some time. It must be far from here,” she said softly. “What if we get lost?”

            “Oh, no sweetheart,” Adam grinned, patting the bound book. “I have a map.”

            Her gaze moved to the book beneath his hand. Was there a map to paradise within the pages of that book? “You have a map? In the book?” She asked to be sure.

            “Yes, in great detail,” he promised. “I chronicled my travels so I could find my way home one day.”

            “How diligent,” she smiled. “A girl would count herself lucky to travel with a man like you,” judging from the state he was in, Phoenix was willing to bet he had not been wise enough to avoid hot spots. He coughed again. Adam was suffering from radiation sickness or at least the onset. There was no doubt in her mind. He was showing all symptoms. Phoenix did not know how far away Cyprus maybe, but she was willing to bet this man would not live to see it again.

            “And a man would count himself lucky to find favour with a woman like you,” he grinned. Phoenix wanted that book, but Adam protected it like it were an extension of his person. She watched as he slipped it back in his satchel and closed the flap. “So, what do you say, sweet thing, are you going my way?”

            “I am now,” she said with a smile. Phoenix knew only one way to get that book. “What do you say to another drink? We can toast our new union.”

            “Another drink sounds glorious,” Adam agreed happily.

            “Allow me,” she said, returning her pistol to its holster. Phoenix flagged down the owner. Holding up her fingers, she indicated for two more drinks. Phoenix reached into the hidden pocket inside her cloak, removing a small vial of poison. It would not kill him, only knock him out for a few hours. The man would wake up later feeling well-rested and relieved of his goods. Phoenix took a ruby from her pocket, and when the owner placed the filthy mugs in front of them, she held out her hand then ‘accidentally’ dropped it into his drink. “Oh, dear, I’m so clumsy,” she smiled.

            “No problem, sweet,” Adam smiled, plucking the ruby from his drink and turning around to hand it to the owner. Phoenix used this opportunity to quickly dose his drink with two drops of poison then quickly returned it to her pocket before he was the wiser. Adam picked up his mug and held it up in a toast. “To new friends.”

            Phoenix held her mug up in response then took a sip as she watched him drink. The poison was fast-acting, and she did not want him passing out down here. She flashed him a wicked frisky smile. “I have a better idea,” she said suddenly. “Let’s down these drinks and go up to the room I’m renting. We can really kick things off.”

            Adam smirked and quickly drained his mug, dropping it back on the table. He wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He then picked up his satchel and stood up. Phoenix took up her bow and quiver quickly, heading for the stairs with her guest close behind her. She walked up the creaking steps to the second floor, passed the scowling whores and into the first empty room she found.

            Adam followed her inside, shutting the door behind them and locking it. “Perhaps you should sit on the bed,” she suggested, not wanting to have to catch him when he lost consciousness. He was a big man, and the thud of his body hitting the ground might alert those outside the door.

            He smirked and walked over to the only thing in the room, taking a seat on the foot of the bed. “Are you going to do a little show for me?” Adam asked, watching her. Phoenix smiled sweetly, keeping her distance. She waited for a moment. With a big man like this, it took a little longer for the poison to spread. Suddenly his smile faded as his eyes began to gloss over. She watched as he began to sway. The poison was taking hold. “What… what is happing?” Adam muttered. Phoenix saw the look of realization in his eyes as Adam finally figured out he had been swindled. His brows drew together in anger. “You b-” Adam fell over against the bed comatose.

            Phoenix quickly began to rummage through his pockets, searching for anything of value. She found some gems and coins which she added to her purse. Then she relieved him of his bullet collection and any portable weapons. She stole his dagger and stuffed it in her boot, took his pistol and tucked it in her belt. She then ran over, snatched up his satchel and began to dig through it. Besides the book, he had a few homemade grenades and some useless junk. She tossed out the junk but kept the book and weapons. One never could be too well-armed.

            Phoenix put the satchel over one shoulder, grabbed up her bow and quiver and slung them over the other. She walked over to the blacked-out window forcing it open. She slipped out carefully and walked along the narrow tin roof. Phoenix might have lost her chance at a bed for the night, but she had gained something worth so much more. She now carried with her the most valuable thing on earth… a map to paradise.        

***

            He felt groggy as if waking from a deep sleep. Adam rubbed his eyes and rolled over, falling off the bed and hitting the floor. Cussing, he clumsily hauled himself to his feet and staggered. Finding his feet, Adam looked around the small room, trying to form a thought.

            What had happened? His mind was fuzzy as he looked at the locked door, the shabby bed and the open window. It was dark now. Had it not just been light out a few moments ago? Where was Jezebel? Where was his satchel? The book!

            Panicked, Adam ran to the window and looked out at the street. It was all coming back to him now. That little wench had trick rolled him. He could not believe he had fallen for it. She had been so beautiful, young and healthy, of course, she would not have been interested in him.

            Adam threw open the door and pushed passed the whores. He rushed down the rickety steps and over to the bar. “Hey, did you see a beautiful blonde leave?”

            The owner behind the bar laughed. “Did she rob you?”

            Adam was not amused. He had to get that book back. “Did you see her leave?”

            “Not out the front door,” he said, pouring a mug of grog and sliding it across the bar to Adam. “Here, it’s on the house. What did she get?” He asked with interest, leaning against the bar.

            He sure as hell was not going to announce that she had stolen the only known map to Cyprus. “Everything,” Adam simply said. “I want it back,” he growled, slamming his fist on the bar.

            “Well, of course, you do, but thieves are notoriously difficult to track down,” the owner said, serving another customer. “Just let it go, my friend, you will live longer if you don’t stress over it. It is not as if material objects cannot be replaced,” this could not. It was the only map. It could never be replaced. He had to get it back.

            “I need to find her. I’ll do anything,” he muttered half to himself.

            The owner lifted a dark brow and moved closer, leaning into Adam and lowering his voice. “Well now, if that is the case, I may know a guy that could track this little minx of yours down… for a price.”

            “Who?”

            “Well, now that is the question,” he said, scratching his jaw thoughtfully. Dried scaly skin flaking off as his fungus infused yellowed nails dragged across his ashy flesh. “But you see, I’m an old man, and my memory is not what it used to be. The name is on the tip of my tongue,” he wanted payment, “but at the moment it escapes me.”

            “She stole my purse,” Adam reminded him.

            “Well, now that is a problem,” he smiled a gap-toothed grin.

            Adam rolled his eyes. He could get a loan to pay the bartender. He would have to pay his man anyway. “If I get a loan, would you remember his name?”

            “I reckon I might.”

            “And you are sure your man can find her.”

            “He never fails. If she can be found, he will find her,” very well then, a loan it was.