Phoenix Chosen #3 (The Phoenix Guardians #3)

Epilogue

EPILOGUE

JACKSON

T he airship’s brig is dark, sweltering and smells like absolute ass—in other words, not much different from some of the shitholes I found myself in while deployed. I’m free to roam the cell, but I stick to one wall where a pencil-thin beam of sunlight spears through a knot in the wood. Outside, the patch of forest gets smaller and is replaced by a view of low rocky hills and glimpses of a river winding through dense swampland. I see a village, then a town, and then open land.

The way the ship sounds reminds me a little of an old C-130 transport, except instead of a drone, the hum comes in steady pulses, like a heartbeat. Here in the belly of the beast, it's loud as hell and vibrates my teeth together. If it’s mechanical, it ain’t like any engine I know of.

I turn away from the peephole and let my eyes adjust to the dim light. There are rows of cargo racks with big cone-shaped clay jugs stuck upright into holes in the shelves, and other chests and boxes. It’s hard to see beyond them into the darkness, but I catch a glimpse of something scurrying around back there. Rats, probably. Huge ones.

“What a mess you’ve gotten yourself into, Jackson Bird,” says a voice in my head. “ This is what you get for trying to do the right thing .”

Hey, at least I didn’t run away this time… That’s something to celebrate, isn’t it?

“Are you sure? Those people gave you a chance, and you abandoned them.”

What the fuck? I didn’t abandon anyone. Tyler would’ve been toast if I hadn’t stepped in. Intrusive thoughts, I have to remind myself. That’s what my therapist called them.

“But you didn’t feel like you deserved to be around them. They’re good people. And you didn’t like the way that one made you feel.”

I see Airos’s face in my mind and the way the sunlight would light up those strange copper eyes when he looked at me. That assured smile he always seemed to wear. And the way he smelled, like some exotic essential oil, faintly drifting under my nose whenever he passed.

Intrusive thoughts, intrusive thoughts. That is not why I’m here. That’s fucking ridiculous.

“But you did feel that way about him .”

That way.

I’m not that way.

Suddenly, the droning pulse goes dead. It’s startlingly silent, except for the creak and groan of the ship’s wooden body, and the whistle of the outside air. We’re floating along like a blimp.

And then there’s another sound. I listen hard to separate the noises coming out of the dark, and zero in on one.

Then a soft cough confirms it. I’m not alone here, and it’s not just rats.

“Who’s there?” I call.

The sound of their breath disappears. They’re trying to hold it. They’re afraid of me.

“Hey,” I say. “We’re both prisoners here. Nothing to worry about. Why don’t you come out? Maybe we can help each other.”

I wait patiently for my cellmate to respond, and just when I’m convinced they won’t or can’t, I hear the scratch of shoes on wood. A form materializes out of the far side of the brig, just a silhouette against black. I prep myself for any number of crazy creatures this newcomer could be, and for a moment the intrusive thoughts are telling me I’ve just made a huge mistake, that I’ve just given myself away to some goddamn hellbeast lurking around in this shit.

But then a dirty sneaker comes into the light. And a pair of ripped gray cargo pants. My eyes trace upwards and take in a pair of hands folded nervously on top of a dirt-streaked baseball shirt stretched to its limit over a swollen belly.

It’s a guy. An Earth guy, around my age. And he’s very obviously pregnant.

He looks scared as shit. Traumatized, from the way he has trouble making eye contact with me. And who can blame him? Not everyone has had the kind of training I’ve had, and not everyone is as strong-willed as Tyler.

I stand up and turn my stomach so he can see my shared predicament. Yup, look at me. Another dude with a bun in the oven.

“My name’s Jackson,” I tell him. “Don’t worry. You and me? We’re gonna get out of here.”