Read Phoenix for Free Online Page A

"Alright. So when exactly did those
start?"
    While Izzy explained the whens and wheres of
her specific dreams and visions, Brad focused harder on the house
across the street. He thought he’d seen something move in the
window. "Hey, Mort?" he asked.
    Mort was too involved with the discussion to
pay him any mind. As a matter of fact, no one at the meeting had
paid him any attention the whole night.
    Something moved again. This time Brad could
make out a silhouette. "Mort."
    Still no answer. Brad could hear Izzy’s
fast-paced voice chattering from the computer; a good sign this
particular topic could go on all night. He turned and took a step
toward Mort. "Mort!"
    Mort shot Brad a look. "What?"
    "When was the last time you saw Mr.
Henderson?"
    "How the hell would I know? Why?"
    Brad shook his head. "Never mind. I’m going
across the street." He bowed to the table. "So sorry to interrupt.
Please… continue." Brad threw a two-fingered salute at the laptop.
"Izzy, catch ya next time."
    "Hey, wait!" Mort tried to stop him but
wasn’t quick enough. Brad was gone before he could get his chair
scooted back.
    Laura spoke up. "Leave him be." She glanced
at the window for a moment. She closed her eyes, rubbed the pad of
her index finger against her thumb, and pictured the street
outside. Then she expanded the image to include the houses next
door and across the way. She felt a part of herself leak out of her
body, just a tiny tendril that snaked away from her brain and
weaved toward the location of the picture she held in her mind. It
swayed back and forth, scanning and relaying images to her.
"There’s nothing out there." Laura stopped rubbing her two fingers
together and refocused on Mort. "He’ll be fine."
    Mort grimaced, but he relented and retook his
seat. "Yeah, okay." He cleared his throat. "Where were we?
Izzy?"
    "I’m here! I was saying mine started about a
year ago so we should probably start looking there for anything
that has to do with diseases or biological accidents or biological
warfare or chemical warfare or—"
    "Whoa, girl. Breathe," Adams said. His box
was next to Izzy’s, and his eyes shifted to the left as though he
could see the Skyper on the screen next to him.
    Mort considered muting the computer if only
to shut those two up. Izzy…well, her intentions were good, but she
had so much damned energy, and Adams was by far the most
distrustful and sarcastic man Mort had ever met.
    "Quiet everyone." Mort rubbed his temples.
"Let’s just start digging. Look for everything related to what Izzy
mentioned, and throw in any notable events that stick out to you.
This isn’t our first trip around this block, so let’s act like it,
okay? You know what kind of weird shit to look for, so focus your
search within six months before and after the date Izzy gave us.
I’m pretty sure that’s when they started for Brad, too."
    The group spent the next half hour hammering
out the parameters of their search. Before they adjourned, they’d
finally agreed on specific events to look for, including things
like viral outbreaks, weird and unexplained reports (the numerous
bouts of cannibalism threatened to sidetrack the group another half
hour), political or corporate interests in fields relating to
anything biological or medical, biological or chemical acts of
terrorism, and all forms of aggression by a government against its
people.
    It was going to be a very long and complex
search.
     
    * * *
     
    A light snow had started to fall by the time
Brad found himself outside the Henderson’s front door. He’d watched
the living room window while crossing the street, but there had
been no movement since leaving Mort’s. He hesitated a moment before
knocking. It was too quiet. No TV, no lights, no anything coming
from inside. His fist rose and fell three times before he finally
summoned the courage to just do it already and get it over
with.
    No answer.
    I was seeing things and no one is home . Yeah , that’s it . Might as well