The Phoenix Subjugation: The Phoenix Adventure, #2

By K. Barnett

Alya's new life begins in shackles after being forcefully recruited to The Mobi Project. Trying to stay safe as a Stormchaser and look out for her friends while dealing with her evolving abilities becomes part of daily life on, The Island. All of this is entwined with a new love and a determination to push back against totalitarian authorities for the freedom she craves.

Along with her friends and one hundred recruits Alya must learn to adapt her behaviour in a brand-new life on The Island, or face severe punishment.
But nothing is ever straight forward where Alya is concerned and she pushes back against the authorities to demand the freedom she craves.
Things start to go her way when she becomes a Stormchaser, or so she believes, until it becomes clear that she has landed the most dangerous role in the Mobi Project.
During her training her genetic modifications take precedence along with the new love in her life which leaves Alya in uncertain territory and facing scrutiny from others that she doesn't relish.
As the commencement of the Mobi Project drawers closer Alya begins to realise that her elusive freedom may come at a cost to all those she holds dear, unless she can outwit General Trop the man who has staked his claim upon her, and who plans to use Alya, his Phoenix, to form a brave new world by any means necessary.

• Language: English
• Publisher: K. Barnett
• Release date: Aug 9, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201753931

Book preview

The

Phoenix

Subjugation

K. Barnett

Copyright © 2023 by K. Barnett

For permission requests, email the author at; [e-mail]

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Published by Sand Ripple Books

Chapter 1

New Life, New Home

‘C larendon! Take the pills!’

Alya flinched.

The officer wasn’t shouting particularly loudly, but her voice had a shard-like texture to it and it was clear from her tone that she was beginning to run out of patience. Alya had already heard six other girls around the huge dining table protest or query the two black pills they’d been told to take. In response, Officer Levy had simply tapped her baton menacingly on the table next to them. Alya hadn’t intended to argue back but she was almost in a trance-like state by the time the pot of pills had been handed to her, and at first, it must have looked like she was refusing to take them. She wasn’t. It’s just that her mind kept wandering involuntarily back to the events some forty minutes ago when her hopes were renewed and she’d seen Zeph again.

‘Clarendon!’

She looked up at the sombre-faced officer as she tapped the tip of her baton against her forearm as if reminding her charge that punishment was due if she refused. Alya took the pot of pills from the girl next to her and sighed. She’d taken pills so often from an early age and had never known what they contained then or now, so what harm could a couple more do? She took two and knocked them back swiftly without water, much to the intrigue of her fellow companions at the table. She then handed the pot to Trin who decided not to complain or whine about the task either taking two and washing them down with a glass of water. Trin then tried to hand the pot to a girl to her left who sat chatting to her friend. The pair were ignoring the proceeds around them and they chatted as if they were sitting in a café. They’d barely let up since they’d sat down, talking quietly but at length, seeming not to notice that the others were extremely respectful of the two heavily-clad officers standing watch over them. They’d already been told to hush by the smaller of the two officers and had complied for all of a minute before resuming their conversation.

Alya’s dark brown eyes flitted from the two officers to the two girls seated towards the end of the table, and she was sure trouble was brewing. Alya had always been astute at reading people; she’d done it her whole life, and she could see that the taller of the two officers, Levy, was seething below the surface. The girls had better quit their chatter or gods only knew what would happen. Alya felt she should warn them, but there was no way she could without drawing attention to herself and Trin.

Trin shifted uncomfortably next to her as if she too knew that something was about to happen. Alya placed her hand on the table casually and spread her fingers wide hoping that Trin would see and understand the need to stay calm. She did. With a subtle tilt of her chin in Alya’s direction, she managed to convey that she’d understood.

‘You!’ snapped Officer Levy, prompting the first dissident girl to hurry up and take the pills.

‘My name is Dante,’ retorted the girl rudely, before whispering something indecipherable from the side of her mouth to the blonde-haired girl next to her.

Alya drew breath and judging from the electricity around the table she knew that the other Recruits had felt it as much as she had.

They waited.

In an instant Levy jumped onto the table, her impeccably clean military boots stealing the show before she jabbed her restless baton into Dante’s abdomen. Dante was shoved backwards and fell out of her chair onto the floor where she sat and for what felt like an age struggled to breathe before making a wheezing guttural sound as her body fought for the air it so desperately needed.

Trin and Alya shoved their chairs back and several other girls leapt to their feet to help, concerned for their fellow Recruit despite never having met before.

The smaller officer, Officer Denver, began to hustle, demanding that the Recruits sit down. She shouted blunt detached instructions and the girls complied, all the while looking at Dante still coughing and trying to catch her breath.

Officer Levy was now on her haunches still on the tabletop her wings stretched wide as she watched Dante curiously. She had a wry little smile at the side of her mouth which unnerved Alya more than if she had remained unmoved by Dante’s struggle.

Dante began to regain her composure although her face had turned puce, Alya presumed partly from rage, as she watched the glint of anger in Dante’s green eyes looking up at Levy. The other girls had begun to settle back down and Officer Denver pulled Dante’s chair upright and pointed for her to sit again.

Levy reluctantly disembarked the table and stood at the end of it, facing the girls.

Dante’s blonde friend had taken the pills without further ado and the pair suddenly seemed a lot more attentive towards the two officers.

‘I’m Officer Levy, and this is, Officer Denver,’ said Levy. She had already resumed her, default, plain expression. Her features were pinched and a pair of very dark eyes seemed to protrude from almost grey skin pulled tight across high cheekbones. Her dark hair was scraped into a tight bun at the nape of her neck as per military rules for female personnel.

Officer Denver’s hair colour was similar and she too had it pulled back in a bun. The similarity ended there, for she was the complete opposite of Levy. At only five-foot-four and with blue eyes and a round face she seemed so much more pleasant and less vacant than Levy, although they both projected a similar invisible barrier when speaking to the girls. Alya had decided immediately that Officer Levy was definitely the one in charge. The moment they had entered their accommodation Levy had cracked her baton against a door frame to get their attention, and that was enough for Alya. After that, the girls had done as they were told and followed Officer Denver in pairs after their names were called, to go to their private rooms. Alya’s heart had nearly stopped when Officer Denver had returned after only a few minutes because only moments before Zeph had been hanging outside their window trying to mouth to Alya through the three-inch-thick glass some words of reassurance.

Alya had worked out that he’d said: ‘You’re going to be okay.’ And then, with his heavenly grin, ‘Welcome to The Island.’ That was as much as she could decipher, but it was enough for her despair to turn to excitement and she’d temporarily forgotten her predicament. She couldn’t help but be happy and she knew her eyes were shining with joy as she stood with her nose to the window following his lip movements. It was exactly what she needed to raise her spirits. Three days of sedation had left her feeling groggy and her stomach griped at the uncertainty caused by being forced into a life she knew nothing about. She and Trin had been separated from Hanuel, Red, Berlin, and Lancelot, and she worried about where the boys were? Would they get to see them? How were they going to get off The Island together?

Alya’s head had snapped around when the door to her and Trin’s room had rattled and it was obvious there was a technical issue as Officer Denver got to grips with the new system. By the time Alya had turned back to Zeph, her eyes wide with alarm, he had already launched off the window. She watched him fly back to where others, like him, wearing silvery-coloured fishskin shorts and vests were circling out to sea, as if parading in the air and welcoming the visitors from Continent One.

‘Take a shower, girls, and make it quick. We have to be in the Vestry very soon,’ prompted Officer Denver, when she finally made it through the door. She indicated the small bathroom off to the right of the compact room. She assessed her charges who looked bedraggled and dirty. The orange vest and trousers that Trin wore were days old with dry blood splattered down the front, from where General Trop had split her lip during an unnecessary interrogation. He was a bully, of that Alya was sure. Trin hadn’t been involved in the Patrol Ball takeover which was entirely down to her impulsivity, although the boys had helped gather the intel that led to her dramatic, storming of the stage. Why Trin had been dragged off to The Pen along with them all was a mystery. Maybe the powers-that-be saw an opportunity to accuse yet another innocent teenager of something they didn’t do as part of their corrupt recruitment tactics.

Officer Denver turned her attention to Alya. She appeared to be concerned by Alya’s clothing the most, or lack of it, as she stood in her bare feet wearing a white bedraggled hospital gown and only a light blue blanket draped around her shoulders. Alya wasn’t concerned about her attire so much as she was about her raven curly hair which she could feel was greasy and sticking out at every possible angle. She loved her spiral curls but only when they behaved, and the thought of Zeph seeing her hair entirely misbehaving made her want to crawl into a dark hole and hide. Officer Denver stood quietly contemplating the pair. She was dressed in the same black fatigues as the officers that had been on the boat that had brought them from Continent One to The Island. She didn’t have an automatic rifle as they had had though. Instead, she had the all too familiar stun baton that Patrol officers on Continent One were issued with, as well as a pair of handcuffs that were attached to her belt. It was clear Officer Denver, and her colleagues, meant business if necessary. ‘Girls,’ said Denver, more gently. ‘Please change into the clothes on your beds. We need to be back in the mess hall in twenty minutes. Er, the canteen,’ she corrected when Trin and Alya frowned at the unfamiliar military reference. Denver turned and let herself out, rattling the door as she went to ensure that the lock had engaged and the girls couldn’t escape.

Alya smiled to herself, partly because even if any of them could escape, she doubted any of the other Recruits would have a clue as to where they were to know which way to go to get home. She also smiled because Denver had just revealed that she had a softer side and that could come to their advantage when Alya and her friends planned their escape back home to C1.

‘You first, Trin,’ said Alya, as she looked doubtfully at the grey leggings, vest, and underwear lying on her bed. She picked up the grey visor cap and examined the stitched capital letters: RECRUIT, then tossed it with contempt back on the bed.

‘I’ll take this one,’ said Trin, indicating the bed opposite from where Alya stood.

The two wooden cabin beds had been kitted out with a desk and drawers underneath, and Trin pulled them open to examine the contents. She found a wash bag that was surprisingly well-stocked with hair and skin care products, more fresh underwear and another two sets of grey uniforms. She and Alya were almost the exact same size, although there was nearly six inches height difference, with Trin being taller so she assumed it didn’t matter which bed they took.

Trin glanced around at Alya who had made her way back to the enormous window and was scouting for a glimpse of Zeph. Although Trin was intrigued to know how the heck Alya knew someone from The Island, she was too tired and too yuck to ask her right now about it. She made her way to the tiny bathroom taking a biohazard bag with her as instructed earlier to dump her orange Penitentiary outfit in before she showered.

Alya listened as the shower water ran, processing it on the periphery of her brain. She was mesmerized by the sight of blue waves as far as the eye could see. The sun sparkled across the horizon with not a cloud in the sky. But what she was really entranced by was the crowd of hybrids, like herself, circling some five hundred metres out to sea. They seemed to sparkle too, and it took her a few moments to realise they really were sparkling as every now and then the gemstones or glass sewn into their outfits caught the sun and blinded her. She realised that the parade was indeed a show, probably put on for the arrival of the newcomers from C1. A welcome party as such as the antics of the hybrids in flight were playful and light. The clothing they wore was much like the shorts she’d seen Zeph wearing that day when he’d helped pluck Hanuel from the sea during a storm; saving both hers and Hanuel’s lives. The skins were white or silvery hides of big fish, maybe sharks, with shiny strips from tuna sewn in. The women wore matching tank tops but the men were bare-chested, covered only by leather straps that held knives and small spears for fishing, and water bottles tucked neatly behind them on their backs. Alya also realised that she’d never seen quite so many blonde, honey-skinned people before, like Zeph. There were others of course, like herself, like Red, and Berlin, but the majority were like Zeph. It was hard to tell from where she stood watching but she thought she saw in all of them the tall athleticism that she’d seen in Zeph too. Unlike the residents of Continent One who came in all different shapes and sizes; some too heavy to fly and as equally disinterested, as unbelievable as that seemed to Alya, who couldn’t imagine wanting to do anything else.

Trin had finished in the shower and she came out looking more like herself. She shook her black wings violently, like a large dog, then stretched them back and at an angle towards the ceiling forcing her shoulder blades towards each other in a luxurious stretch. Droplets flew everywhere and the remaining shower water ran through her wavy black tresses onto the towel she’d placed around her neck. She was wearing the grey issued uniform, and Alya caught sight of how thin her arms looked and was concerned. She tried not to let it show on her face and tapped the windowsill as if struggling to pull her attention away from the hybrids outside before grabbing her new clothes and towel from her bed.

When in the shower, having discarded her gods’ awful hospital gown on the floor, she looked down at her own slim frame. She could see her hip bones protruding and realised she might not have had a proper meal in as many as four days. The last thing she could remember eating was a dry bread roll at the Patrol Ball. That was before she’d turned her own world and many of Continent One’s residents’ upside down. She was deeply regretful at how she’d handled the whole incident. She hadn’t meant to divulge her knowledge of the Mobi Project quite so brutally and in front of a live television audience with thousands upon thousands tuning in. In hindsight, she should have sought her father’s advice or someone who could have handled the situation better. As it happened, she could well have been the reason that she and a hundred teenagers were now being quickly advanced into forced conscription, although it would certainly have happened anyway—however, the timing might have been solely down to Alya’s actions.

The shower was divine and Alya stood for what seemed like an age with her face tilted towards the stream of warm water running over her feathers, seeping through the overlapping raven and amber sheaths. She was daydreaming about being out there with The Island hybrids in the sun, circling together in each other’s slipstreams, feeling and sensing every wave of air—a feast for the senses.

Trin knocked politely. ‘You okay in there?’

‘Er, yeah,’ laughed Alya, realising Trin was probably wondering if she’d drowned. ‘I’ll be out in a second.’

Alya turned her attention to her hair and quickly shampooed and rinsed, then stepped out of the shower cubicle into the compact bathroom. The floor was made of tiles that glittered and her keen vision picked out tiny bits of crushed shells, the type of décor that poorer housing on Continent One would usually have. Prompted by memories of home, her thoughts turned to Red and she wondered how Austin, his poor father, was coping with having lost both of his sons to the Mobi Project. Trin and Hanuel’s parents too; their twins taken from them. It didn’t occur to Alya to feel sympathy for her own parents, however. They still had Tal so they’d be fine she surmised. She’d caused them a lot of bother lately so they’d probably be pleased for the rest from her.

‘You look much better, Trin,’ said Alya, as she placed her damp towel over a rail next to Trin’s.

‘So do you, Aly. I’m starving.’

‘Me too. We’ve lost a lot of weight, Trin.’ Alya directed her gaze out of the window instead of at Hanuel’s sister.

‘I know we have,’ she said, softly. ‘Yours because you were out for three days and mine because my stomach is in knots wondering about what is going to happen to us. Do you think we might die out here, Aly?’ Trin climbed onto the deep window ledge.

Alya looked in horror at her then climbed up onto the window ledge too so that they sat facing each other, their knees gathered up and held by their interlocked fingers.

‘Trin, I don’t know what’s going to happen. They’re using us as free labour, I know that much, but how dangerous it might be; well only time can tell. I think we should learn quickly how to get out of here before they start to move Mobi.’

‘How will we do that, Aly? We must be at least a thousand miles from C1.’

‘Two thousand.’

‘Seriously? How do you know that?’

‘The guy, Zeph. The one clinging to our window before; well, he’s done it. He’s flown from The Island, which is what we are on now. He made it almost all the way to C1. If he could help me, then I know I can fly that distance. I could go and get help, be back within a couple of days maybe.’

Trin shifted uncomfortably. She didn’t want to dash Alya’s hopes but she couldn’t see how anyone other than an Olympic champion could fly that distance without a team of professionals alongside them. ‘Do you think you could? It’s an awfully long way, Alya.’

Alya could see the doubt in Trin’s light brown eyes, and she knew that logically speaking, she too should feel a nagging doubt like a normal person would, but she didn’t. She just knew she could do it.

‘Trin. Don’t worry okay. I need to speak to Zeph. He’s already made contact within five minutes of us being here, so that’s good news. Seriously. I believe I can get us out of here, but we have to just go along with what they want for the next two or three days. Okay?’

Trin looked out of the window keeping her gaze fixed firmly on the horizon. The hybrids were still circling, although there were less of them now. She wasn’t as hopeful as Alya. She’d had time to get used to the idea that she was incarcerated; a pawn in C1’s ambitions. She was worried for them all.

‘Alya, whatever you decide to do I will back you one hundred percent, but you need to make sure that whatever you do, it doesn’t come back at the rest of us, okay? There’s me and Hanuel, Red, Berlin, Lancelot, not to mention one hundred other Recruits to think about. You can’t just make decisions for us all like you did at the Patrol Ball.’

Alya huffed ever so slightly. As if she’d had a choice at the Patrol Ball. She’d actually been trying to protect the Recruits by letting everyone know. She looked up and Trin seized her gaze. Hanuel’s twin rarely spoke with such a direct tone and Alya was cautious of how to proceed with her for the first time.

‘I’ll make sure I keep you informed, Trin,’ she said, flatly.

Trin thought for a moment and then released Alya from her gaze before returning to look back at the distant horizon. ‘I think it’s imperative that you do, Alya. For all our sakes.’

Chapter 2

New Beginnings

Officer Denver led the way with Officer Levy bringing up the rear and ten female Recruits placed between them walking swiftly through the brightly-lit corridors towards the mess hall.

Alya could hear the hum of low voices as they approached the double doors which led into an enormous square room with high ceilings and huge panelled windows from wall to wall looking out onto the vast ocean outside. Alya looked around at the rows of tables where some of the Recruits were now seated; all dressed alike in grey gym shorts or leggings, and vests. She scanned urgently for the boys, looking specifically for a mop of red hair first.

The girl behind Alya stepped on her heels as their line began to move again in the direction of a food buffet. Alya’s stomach gnawed like never in her life. She had no clue what time it was but she thought it might be early morning, maybe seven a.m., but she’d been out of it for three days and three days of an empty stomach was growling furiously up at her so it could be any time really. She grabbed a tray and plate and lined up behind Trin as they travelled slowly by the hot canteens of food as servers issued them with rations. One dollop of mashed potato, one of peas, then a pureed paste that looked and smelled like fish followed by a ladle of creamy sauce. Alya didn’t mind, it was food, even if the smell was overpowering, but she looked up at Trin’s pinched face and for a moment her stomach churned in sympathetic agreement.

‘Move, Trin,’ prompted Alya, making her friend focus on something else.

Trin followed the girl in front, as Officer Denver instructed them to sit towards the end of one of the table rows. Alya brought her knees up to manoeuvre onto a bench, carefully placing her tray down on the table in front of her first. There was a group of boys further down the table who took a keen interest in the newcomers as Alya’s accommodation bunched together in the space they’d been allocated, elbow to elbow to eat their food.

Levy gave a piercing glare at the boys and with a subtle tap of her baton against her palm, they returned to their own food, murmuring between themselves.

Alya sat opposite Trin nodding to Hanuel’s twin as if prompting her to begin eating. Trin picked up her fork and began to tease the mashed potato away from the pureed fish and ever so slowly eat it. Alya had dealt with the smell and she simply couldn’t be as cautious as Trin. She was starving and focused all her attention on clearing her plate. She ate quickly and must have made an impression.

‘Good appetite, have you?’ said Dante, next to her.

Alya recognised the sarcastic tone, but she was struggling to decide if Dante’s accent was from the East-Side or not? It certainly had East-Side intonations, but the accent was a bit mixed.

‘Sure,’ said Alya, nodding as she finished her last bite a bit more slowly. She wanted to lick the plate if she was honest, and she eyed the almost full plate of food Trin was still dissecting.

‘Here,’ said Trin, pushing her plate towards Alya.

‘No!’ snapped Officer Levy, from where she stood patrolling their small group. In a second, she’d swiped the plate and chucked it back under Trin’s nose. ‘Eat it,’ she said, sternly, and then she pushed the back of Trin’s head closer to the plate.

Trin brought her hand up apologetically. ‘Okay. Okay. I will.’

The boys further down the table looked at the commotion Trin had caused. One boy had a black eye and another was carefully nursing his elbow. Alya could see a mixture of expressions within the group of East-Siders. Some of the boys looked in sympathy, but at least three of them grimaced at Trin’s trouble-making. The girl on the other side of Alya, Dante’s blonde friend, Tig, stiffened, next to her, and Alya realised that the three meaner-looking boys were actually looking at Tig, not Trin.

‘You, okay?’ said Alya, instinctively.

‘Sure,’ said Tig, bringing her blonde wings close around her shoulders to act as a shield. She continued eating and gradually sat back a little bit as if using Alya so the boys couldn’t see her.

‘Ignore them,’ said Dante, firmly in Alya’s ear. ‘I mean it.’

Alya couldn’t decide if Dante spoke as a threat or as a warning, either way, she fully intended to ignore the boys. Her mission was simple. Find the others and get a dialogue going about what to do next. She needed to reassure her friends that they weren’t staying.

‘Finish up,’ said Officer Denver. She appeared to have been running an errand while the girls were eating and arrived at the top of the table with a new clipboard.

Trin had cleared most of her plate; partly so as not to draw any further attention to herself and also because she was hungrier than she realised.

‘Alya, Trinidad, Dante and Tig. You’re with me. The rest of you are with Officer Levy.’

Officer Denver began to walk away and it was obvious that the names she’d called were meant to follow. Trin and Alya rallied and Tig and Dante followed on as they were led from the mess hall and through a series of corridors. Denver inclined her head to other soldiers as she went, and Alya tried to make a mental note of names and faces, if not for anything else than to gather information about how many personnel would be in pursuit of an escaping Recruit. Alya fancied her chances, some of them were big guys and heavyset so they were bound to be slower than her. If she set off at first light before people were truly awake, she could be home by midnight the following day. She’d be exhausted, on the brink of collapse no doubt but she’d struggle all the way home, back to her parents, back to her father, an ex-Patrol officer himself. Uncle Bruce would bring