The Phoenix Project

Chapter Two

Chapter Two

February 15th, 2038

James

                        The sun rose over the Atlantic Ocean, casting its radiant glow over the bustling hub of New York City. The city may just be waking, but it was far from inactive; the never-ending shuffle of its brain-dead inhabitants kept it in a constant uproar. The masses shift through the city in groups that contained anywhere between a few dozen to several hundred of the city’s former denizens. No dogs barked. No cats mewled. Almost no birds existed, and they were so scarce one might even take them as fantasy beings.

            The streets that used to carry people from home to work now only carry starved compatriots along an endless journey. One could almost find the shamble of the unthinking citizens tranquil after a few years of quarantine. The tremble caused by their rhythmic stamping. The chorus caused by their primeval cries. The solid sound caused by flesh hitting concrete as they fell from a skyscraper, or tried to break through a wall. It was all peaceful, an absolutely normal day.

            Gunshots rang through the yard, slow and concise as the initiates took careful aim. There were five of them lined up, each holding a different model of handgun, aiming down range at special dummies set up. They weren’t firing live ammunition, which would be wasteful, but, rather, blanks. Every time one squeezed the trigger of their respective gun, a part of the dummy would flash red and a tally would count up how many times each body part was metaphorically hit.

            There were three males amongst the group of fifteen-year-olds, and two females. Each of them wore the same uniform; a dull gray uniform consisting of a jacket, a fitting short sleeved shirt, and black pants. The jacket has the letter and number combination ‘Q-14’ embroidered on the back in black, signifying that they were from Quarantine zone fourteen: New York City. The males all had similar haircuts, their hair kept cut above their eyes, whereas the females had different hair styles. One girl had waist length black hair tied back in a ponytail, while the other had shoulder length brown curls.

            James gripped the hilt of the Browning Hi-power in his hand tightly, sighing as he relaxed. ‘Calm down, you’re only shooting blanks at a dummy,’ He chastised himself. He squared his legs, held the handgun in a teacup grip- one hand holding the grip, the other cupping the bottom of the gun for stability- and aimed carefully down the sight, trying to counteract his shaky hands. He squeezed the trigger and the dummy’s left leg lit up. “..Shit...” he hissed, as he ejected the magazine and holstered the gun in an under-the-shoulder holster, about-facing as he was the last to finish.

            “We have finished the exercise, Sergeant Jackson,” The curly haired girl declared in a clear voice once James turned around.

            The man who had been addressed as sergeant rose up from the chair he was seated in, clearing his throat as he moved in front of the group of five.

            “At ease, initiates. This was an accuracy exercise, so taking your time with your shots was acceptable. Later on in your initiation, however, you will need to increase your speed as well. If you can’t fire accurately and quickly, then you risk everyone.” He said. “However, that is not the point. You all handled the pistols very well, and maintained your stances throughout the entirety of the exercise. Good job.”

            The entire group visibly relaxed at the praise, and the curly haired girl managed a smile. ‘Always a bright one, eh?’ James thought as he saw her smile. ‘Come on, sis, you can’t have done much better than me…’