From the Embers (Ember Society Book 3)

by AR Colbert

  “What do you mean?” Everett’s voice reverberated through the hallway just before I reached his office. I paused outside his doorway, listening for another voice. Silence. Then, “No, she has no idea... Yes, I’m sure... Emmaline?” He blew air through his teeth. “She’s smart enough, but there’s still something off there. I think Martha would be easier to control... Right... Both of them?” He sighed loudly. “Yes, ma’am. Of course... Two weeks, I’ll make it happen.” He slammed the phone on his desk with more force than necessary.

  I considered turning around and going back upstairs, but overhearing the end of that conversation had me more curious than ever. Everett didn’t refer to just anybody as “ma’am.” Was it the Supreme Leadership? The woman I met at my party, perhaps—Cynthia? Everett was up to something, and I was determined to find out what it was.

  With a deep breath and a quick silent prayer for safety, I rounded the corner into his office. He glanced up from his desk with a loosened collar and tired eyes. His weariness hit me the moment we made eye contact with enough weight that I wasn’t certain I had the strength to talk to him. But I persevered. With a little extra sway in my steps, I sauntered over to his desk and leaned my hip against it, propping my weight up on an outstretched arm in front of him.

  “Long day?”

  He blinked, seemingly unaffected by my effort to look more...appealing. “Yes.” His eyes weren’t focused on me, but looking through me, staring lifelessly into a distant nothingness. Everett was lost in thought. Whoever he spoke with moments before left him feeling uneasy. Perhaps tonight wasn’t the best time for me to leach information from him.

  “You know what might help take your mind off of work?”

  He turned slightly, as if he’d just noticed I was in the room. “What’s that?”

  “A party.”

  “A party? We just had guests over on Friday.”

  “Yes, but that dinner wasn’t much fun.” I pushed my lower lip out a bit, the way I’d seen his other lady-friends do when they weren’t getting their way.

  Something twitched in Everett’s cheek as he looked down at my lips. “Well you know I can never say no to a party.” He stood and pushed in his office chair, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “And now that you mention it, a party might be just what I need. I have some guests I’ll need to speak with again soon, anyway. How does the Friday after next sound?”

  He winked and placed his hand on my lower back as he escorted me toward the door. It was a weak display of his charm. It might have fooled most people, but I still sensed the unsettled feeling he was trying to hide. And the fact that he was leading me back into the hall was confirmation enough that I wouldn’t be getting any more information out of him tonight.

  But that was okay. We had plans for a party.

  “Two weeks—that sounds perfect.” I smiled. Hopefully, Conrad would hold off on any other attacks until then.

  CHAPTER 22

  Everett kept to himself the following week, busying himself with work tasks and endless phone calls behind closed doors. Tension hung thick in the air throughout the house, and Everett’s faux charm at the office and the dinner table couldn’t conceal the stress gripping him like a vice. It put us all on edge.

  I put all of my time at work into planning the party, since that’s apparently all I was good for in my new position. But I’d often leave the office early to meet up with Rider and Raf. They’d been secretly scouting the city with Jeremy and built up a group of about twenty men and women who were interested in training. We’d gather in the small clearing near the carriage house, careful to stay hidden from anyone passing down the main road, and certain to disassemble before Everett returned home each evening.

  Raf worked with everyone on self-defense. It was amazing what even the most petite of the women were able to do with different pressure points and twists of their bodies. They could take down full-grown men.

  Rider focused on weapons training. We didn’t have guns, other than a couple of stun guns, of course. But we learned how to effectively use other common items as weapons, both defensively and offensively. I particularly enjoyed watching Joy wield the handle of a mop, spinning the tool and striking in a way that sent the men running. We didn’t have much, but we were growing stronger by the day.

  On Friday afternoon, I said goodbye to Barbara at lunchtime and met Joy and Rider in the car downstairs. We were going into town to find me a dress for the party the following week. Asher drove with light, cheerful conversation as we rolled through the Center toward the gate that led into the city.

  But everything changed on the other side of the wall. The same tension I’d felt near Everett through the week swirled around us on the streets of Louisburg. There were more people outside than usual, crowding the sidewalks and lingering around buildings and alleyways. They turned and watched us drive past with heightened looks of disdain.

  Rider glanced at me with a frown and pulled the stun gun from his waistband. He held it low in the vehicle, out of sight, but ready if he needed it.

  Our chatter grew quiet as we drove deeper into town. Asher and Joy felt it, too. How could they not? The sensation was strangling, more now than ever before. The people were angry, and they weren’t trying to hide it.

  As our vehicle approached the business district, we came upon an especially large crowd. They stood in the middle of the roads, blocking our path to the boutique. A media reporter stood on the outer edge of the group, speaking into a handheld microphone and looking into a camera.

  Asher continued past the intersection, turning left toward a different part of the area. “I’m going to drive around the backside of the block,” he said. “It’ll be easier to get inside from back here.”

  Asher rolled to a stop in the alley behind the dress boutique. Rider stepped out of the vehicle behind Joy and me. “I’m going to stay here in the alley, where I can watch the vehicle and still keep an eye on you in the store. Please keep this back door propped open, and call out to me if anything seems off.”

  I nodded. “We will.”

  “I’m serious, Claren. I don’t know what’s going on, but this isn’t the day to get careless. Get my attention. I’ll keep you safe.”

  Normally I might’ve rolled my eyes at his insistence to watch over me like a child. But today, it felt necessary.

  Inside, the same Worker I’d met before, Agnes, was just as uneasy as we were. The visit was much different than the first time I’d gone dress shopping in the store. Our conversation was limited, the dress selection small, the fittings hurried. It was like we had an unspoken agreement to hurry up and get out of there so we could all get back to the safety of our homes.

  Rider would walk in and have a look around the shop every few minutes as well, the gun in his hands a clear symbol of the overall atmosphere. His eyes were constantly roving, in the boutique, out in the alleyway, back and forth working hard to keep everyone safe.

  As Joy and I finished our transaction at the cash register, the crowds outside grew loud. There was shouting, though their words were indistinguishable. The mass of people seemed to move as one, a living, breathing organism in itself, traversing the streets and slowly making its way down the road. They were moving in the direction of the Center.

  Understanding struck Joy and me at the same time, and with the bag slung over my arm we hurried to the back of the store where Rider was already waiting with the car doors open for us to jump inside. “Go!” he shouted to Asher as the doors closed behind us.

  Asher turned the corner back to the Center, speeding faster than he should have in an effort to beat the crowds. But it was fruitless. Despite his speed, the crowd flooded the intersection in front of us before we could clear it. Asher slammed on his breaks to avoid hitting a woman with stringy brown hair. Frown lines etched her face, and she slapped her hands on the hood of the car in frustration. Then she made eye contact with me, and I knew the situation was about to go from bad to dangerous.

  “We’
ve got a live one here!” she yelled, and the crowd converged on us. Fists banged against the windows, rocking the vehicle back and forth with the rage of the people. Rider pushed Joy and me down toward the floorboard, shielding us with his arms. But he couldn’t shield us from the words that were shouted through the crowd.

  “Enough is enough!”

  “Down with the Leadership!”

  “We have a voice! Give us a choice!”

  I lifted up on my knees enough to steal a peek through the window. The people were livid, pushing on the car to get our attention. But they didn’t have any weapons. They were hurting. They felt abandoned. Hungry. Neglected.

  “Let me talk to them.”

  “What?!” Rider looked at me like I was crazy.

  “Let me talk to them,” I repeated. “They don’t want to hurt us. They just want to be heard.”

  He shook his head emphatically. “No. They will absolutely hurt you.”

  I touched his leg, projecting a sense of calm and trust. I wasn’t positive that I could calm the crowd, but I had to try. Drawing this kind of negative attention to Louisburg would only bring the attacks to our area faster. If I wanted Conrad and the Supreme Leadership to keep their distance, I had to get control of these people. At least until we could organize something more efficient for the Ember movement. Their anger wasn’t misplaced, it was just poorly timed.

  Uncertainty flashed across Rider’s face, and I instantly felt guilty for toying with his emotions. But he wouldn’t let me speak to the people otherwise. And just as quickly as it appeared, his angry feelings morphed into the defeated expression of a man who was about to relent.

  “Just be careful,” he mumbled.

  “I will.” I lifted myself back into the seat, taking in the crowd that surrounded our vehicle. It seemed even larger now than before, if that was possible. Sitting up high on a patio outside of a nearby restaurant sat the media crew with multiple cameras trained on the scene before them.

  I inhaled deeply, allowing the oxygen to fill my lungs and clear my worries. If I could remain calm, perhaps they could, too. Maybe I could even project some of it into the crowd immediately surrounding our vehicle.

  I moved toward the window, and the faces directly outside it registered surprise. I used the brief lapse in anger to raise my hands in surrender, urging them to relax enough to let me speak.

  “I hear you!” I shouted through the glass. “I hear you, and I know you’re hurting!”

  The people nearest the vehicle exchanged glances, but the shouting continued all around them. Cautiously, I rolled the window down, constantly projecting all the goodwill I held outside into the people, hoping that it would be enough to keep them calm.

  Without the glass barrier separating us, my voice rang out loud through the people. “I want to help you.”

  My eyes cut back to the cameras, the blinking red light a reminder that I had to be careful with my words. Not only was I speaking to the angry crowds of Louisburg, but I was being recorded for playback to people throughout the District. Possibly even throughout New America. I had to choose my words carefully.

  And yet, I couldn’t snuff out the excitement trilling through my veins. If this footage played throughout New America, people all across the country might wake up to what the government was doing. Maybe it would be enough to spark the Ember movement everywhere. Maybe this was actually the very beginning of a bigger change.

  The thought spurred on my confidence, and I leaned further out the window, all eyes trained on me now. “I know you’re angry, but this isn’t the way to make things change. I hear your concerns, and I will take them directly to the top of the District Leadership. I want what’s best for you, and I will do everything in my power to make it happen.”

  My words were vague, but they had to be. I couldn’t publicly announce that I wanted to change the laws, not with the cameras on me, but hopefully it was enough to appease them for now. They’d find out soon enough that I was completely on their side.

  “Liar!” The woman who first alerted the crowds to my presence was shoving her way through the people toward my window. I felt Rider lean in closer behind me, the stun gun firm in his grip pushed up against the door at the ready.

  “We’ve heard you Leaders spout lies like this before. You fed us for a while, and then you murdered us. We’re tired of it. It’s time to bring the whole system down.”

  “Ma’am, I promise—” My words were cut short when she reached out and snagged a handful of my hair, yanking me further out of the window. My body lay halfway out of the car, multiple hands grabbing at my arms and face, tugging on my shirt, trying to drag me all the way out. But Rider kept a firm grip on my legs. Joy joined him in attempting to pull me back into the vehicle.

  I cried out in pain as a clump of hair was pulled from my scalp. I was being stretched in ways the human body wasn’t designed to withstand. My joints ached at the force until finally a jolt of electricity crawled over my skin. The hairs on my arms felt as though they had been singed right off of my body. My ears hummed and my veins were on fire. But the shot didn’t hit me directly. It hit the woman pulling on me, and her body went rigid from the shock of the stun gun, landing on the ground with a thud.

  I watched in horror as people stepped on her fallen form, unaware of what happened and pushed forward by the force of the crowd behind them. They’d completely lost control.

  “Drive!” Rider yelled to Asher.

  “I can’t! There are too many of them!”

  “I said drive.” Rider growled through gritted teeth. Asher obeyed, slowly rolling forward at first, knocking citizens in the legs with the slow moving vehicle.

  “They’re trying to run us over!” Someone shouted. It was enough to get the people moving; one by one they began to clear out of the way as Asher gained speed.

  Rider swung the weapon in his hand, crashing into the face of a man who gripped my upper arm. The gun left the man’s nose bloodied, and his hand loosened as he reached for his face. It was enough for Rider to pull me back safely into the vehicle.

  Asher was moving quickly now, flying over bumps in the road past the jeering crowds on either side of us. Joy dabbed at a gash on my upper lip with the edge of her sleeve, her eyes wet with fear and regret.

  “I’m fine, Joy.”

  The adrenaline masked my pain. I wasn’t physically hurting, but I was sick with anxiety. What would Everett have to say when word of this got back to him?

  I’d made a terrible mistake.

  CHAPTER 23

  My face was numb from the ice pack Joy insisted I held to my cheek. Other than some bruising, a cut lip from an elbow to the face, and an unfortunate new bald spot behind my left ear, I was remarkably unscathed.

  My body was still a little sore from being yanked and twisted and pulled, though. And I’d yet to face Everett. My fear over his reaction was probably the most incapacitating of all.

  I drew my knees up to my chest and nestled further into the corner of the worn couch that sat in the carriage house. It was the same couch that served as Raf’s bed, and his scent still lingered in the tattered old fabric. It was the only thing keeping me relaxed as we waited for the evening news to begin.

  Asher and Jeremy had smuggled a small television out of an unused guest room on the first floor. They wiggled an antenna strapped to the top of the set until the programming came into view. I didn’t want to speak to Everett until after I’d seen just how much of my little speech the media had recorded.

  Finally, the familiar notes of the evening programming chimed from a crackling speaker in the base of the television. We all grew quiet as the newscaster appeared, smiling like she’d just been gifted an extra year’s wages.

  “Tonight in the Greater Midwest District...”

  Raf and Rider came jogging over to join Joy, Asher, Jeremy, and me in front of the screen. Raf settled onto the floor in front of me, leaning his head back against my knees. Without a thought, my hand found its way into his
hair, twirling his espresso-colored locks around my fingers as we watched and waited for the story of our outing to appear.

  We’d described the afternoon’s events to him when we returned home, and I’d never seen him with such mixed emotions. One minute he was fussing over my minor injuries, and the next he was pacing the floor, cursing under his breath. Raf hated to feel useless, but there was nothing he could have done in this situation but wait with the rest of us.

  He was more useful than he realized, however. His presence was a balm for my nerves. The motion of my fingers running through his hair soothed me as I anxiously watched my face appear on the screen. I hated seeing myself on the television.

  Large blue letters scrolled across the bottom of the screen. Louisburg’s newest Leader is welcomed with open arms.

  What?

  “A few weeks ago, the city welcomed Claren Greenwood into the local Leadership as District Director Everett Walsh’s Public Relations Advisor. Claren has an impressive resume from her time in Classen City. She is credited with leading Protectors to the arrests of two rebel leaders—Frank Dalton and Milo Johannsen. After growing close to Senator Felix Walsh, it’s no wonder she caught the eye of his father.”

  My mouth dropped open as I watched footage from the last several months flash across the screen. Raf leaned forward on his knees as a shot of Felix and me at his Senatorial announcement appeared. Felix’s arm was wrapped gingerly around my waist, and the glimmer of my golden evening gown didn’t come close to the glimmer of our smiles. It was all fake of course—designed to impress the people of Classen City. But it clearly wasn’t impressing Raf. My hand dropped back to the couch as he moved his head away from me.

  The newscaster continued as the screen flipped to a shot of me from this afternoon, leaning out of the car window with a hopeful smile. It was a still shot—a frozen fraction of a second from before everything went wrong.