by AR Colbert
“Top drawer, next to my bed.”
Normally the thought of an insanely attractive man handling my personal items in my bedroom would send me into a tizzy, but I didn’t have time to dwell on it. I slipped into my boots sitting by the door and reached for my jacket.
Raf emerged from the bathroom, shoving my toothbrush and a bottle of shampoo into the bag.
“Remember what we worked on. You’re going to be surrounded by people who are trying to read your every emotion. Don’t reveal your fear. Keep your concern for Cato hidden. Be agreeable, and do your best. The more they trust you, the better off you’ll be.”
I took my bag from him and slung it over my shoulder.
“And don’t tell them you know anything about blocking or projecting. If they try to teach you, act as though you’ve never heard of it. They can’t know that I am an Empath. In fact, please try to keep any ties between us a secret as well.”
“Got it.” With the letter in my hands, I was ready to go. “Thank you for your help, Raf. And please take care of Cato. Let him know that I love him.”
Raf nodded sadly. Then there was an electric silence between us as we stared at each other before saying goodbye. I wasn’t ready to go just yet, and I knew he wasn’t quite ready either. I wanted to touch him, give him a hug or a kiss on the cheek, but it didn’t feel appropriate. So instead, I gave him the same awkward salute Cato had given earlier.
“See you soon,” I said.
Raf smiled and returned the salute. “See you soon.”
Officer Patton burst from Mr. Reavis’s door and came galloping across the street before I made it halfway to the curb. I held my letter in the air, waving it like a white flag.
“Where do you think you’re going? Are you trying to compromise the whole operation?” Patton’s face was bright red, and he coughed, gasping in giant lungfuls of the chilly spring air.
“Officer Patton, I’m so sorry to bother you, but I forgot in all the commotion earlier. I’m supposed to catch the bus for my career selection tonight.”
He snatched the letter from my trembling hands, and I hoped he didn’t notice.
“Peacemaker?” He ran his eyes up and down my body with a look of disgust. I sensed his distrust in me, but he couldn’t argue with the letter. It was signed and sealed by a Leader of the city. “This says the bus leaves at 8:00. You’ll never make it in time.”
“I might if I leave right now, sir.”
He gave me one more look over with his beady little eyes, then blew air through his lips like a horse as he shoved the letter back at me. “Good luck,” he said. He waved me off with his hand and made his way back to Mr. Reavis’ door, hacking into the crook of his arm every few steps.
I stuffed the letter into the front pocket of my bag and turned toward the business district, walking quickly to the edge of the block. Once I turned the corner, I broke out into a full sprint, pumping my legs harder than I ever had before. There was more than my choice of pizza on the line this time. I was running for my brother’s life—and possibly mine.
I ran until my legs were burning, the muscles crying out in agony as I forced them to keep working. Any other day I’d have caught a bus near my house and rode to the 23rd Street station, but there wasn’t time. The world passed me by in a blur of deep blues and purples as the sun set over the rooftops on my left. I pushed myself forward, begging my legs to stay strong, to keep working for just a few more blocks.
Finally the lights of the bus station came into view. A bus was parked near the entrance, its taillights glowing red through a smoky cloud of exhaust. I sprinted through the cloud and onto the sidewalk just in time to see the doors close.
Barely able to breathe, I tapped rapidly on the door with the palm of my hand. My legs felt like gelatin, and I didn’t know how long I’d be able to stand. The door opened and I waved my letter at the driver, unable to speak through my panting.
Behind him sat a small blond woman, her pink lips pursed into a tight little smirk.
“Claren Greenwood,” said Emmaline. “So nice of you to join us.”
CHAPTER 11
A leaf blew across my foot, riding the wind pushed out from under my backpack as it hit the sidewalk beside me. A three-story brick building stood towering before us. There were six of us on the bus with Emmaline, but I only recognized one other. His name was Edgar. We’d gone to school together for years, but I had never really spoken to him. His mom was a Worker in the bakery, and sometimes she would send him to school with leftover cookies and muffins in his lunch. The other students envied his extra sweets, but only from a distance—he was painfully shy and difficult to talk to.
The others were all from different boroughs, three other girls and one more boy. Edgar held a large suitcase, but the others held more modest bags, small enough to fit on their laps. I was the only one wearing a backpack. All of us stared up at the building before us with similar looks of awe.
After the Great War, all the large cities in New America redistricted. The Centers of each city housed the Leaders, and walls were built to protect them. If there was anything the war taught our people, it was that keeping the Leadership of our government safe took top priority or else the nation could crumble again.
From the Center, cities were divided into boroughs. The boroughs swirled outward from the Center, with more skilled citizens living closer to the Center, and the more... dispensable citizens living closer to the edge. Morton Borough, where I lived, was right on the southern edge, and the 23rd Street bus stop was in the south side business district. I assumed the other students on the bus arrived from southern boroughs as well.
I had never been this close to the Center, and judging by the faces next to me, most of them had never been here either. Classen City was large, with almost 700,000 residents according to the Leadership Reports on television. With our only means of transportation consisting of the public buses, or a Protector’s vehicle if you were unlucky, most residents never ventured very far from home. There was no need to since our boroughs were designed to be self-contained, with business districts placed evenly on the north, south, east, and west of the Center.
The Peacemaker training center was located in Noble borough, directly adjacent to the Center. We even saw the Center walls from the corner of the block as we rode in.
“This is incredible.” The blond girl next to me looked so happy she could cry. Everyone was downright giddy. If I allowed myself to lean into their feelings too much I’d be jumping up and down, clapping my hands from the excitement. I wondered what they could sense from me. Dread? The grief of losing my last remaining family member?
Inhale. Exhale. Don’t let them in.
I understood their excitement, of course. If I’d been from a normal family, I’d have been thrilled, too. The trainee living quarters were comprised of three massive group homes, each one three stories tall and joined together along the sides. After the war, we used as much of the remaining infrastructure in the cities as possible, which meant the housing near the Center naturally looked different from the housing closer to the edge. I suspected this was once a bunch of condominiums converted into a few larger group homes.
“Does everyone have their belongings?” Emmaline stepped in front of our group, clasping her hands together in front of her bubble gum pink skirt suit. It was crisp and clean, freshly pressed, and I remembered Cato’s words about the Leaders having more than the rest of us. How much did that suit cost? Emmaline glanced in my direction, and I quickly restored my mental wall of ice.
Get it together.
“You will be staying in the first building on the left, Unit 501.” Emmaline walked up three concrete stairs toward an enormous wooden door. The door was stained with a beautiful shade of walnut, and it had eight window panels that sparkled like they were made of crystal. Most impressive, however, was the shiny brass knocker in the shape of a lion’s head, or maybe it was a gargoyle. It reflected the light of the streetlamps like a beacon drawing us inside.
Emmaline pulled a key from her handbag—which looked suspiciously like the real leather bag I’d held a week before—and unlocked the massive door, allowing it to swing open into an entryway the size of my living room. We moved into the entryway, gathering into a huddle because none of us were sure what to do next.
“Come in, come in. This is your home now! I’m sure it’s quite different from what you were used to back in your old boroughs, so I’ll show you around.”
We followed Emmaline into a large living area, complete with a fireplace, bookshelves, and a couch that wrapped itself all the way around the space in the shape of a U. All six of us would fit at once, even with our feet sprawled out beside us. Beyond the living room was a dining room with a table large enough to comfortably seat twelve. But the kitchen stopped me in my tracks. There was an island of polished stone in the center of the room bigger than my bed at home. Six burners topped the stove and two ovens were built into the wall. The refrigerator was at least double the size of what I grew up with, and my mind raced with ideas of the delicacies it could hold. To the side of the kitchen was another den and more bookshelves, with two desks.
“I know this seems like a lot,” Emmaline said as she led us up a wooden staircase. “But it’s really much more economical to accommodate you all in one large group home than it would be to find a standard house for each of you. And your work in the city is so important, we want you to be comfortable as you learn and train for your futures. It really is for the greater good of our city to treat you well during your training. You’ll spend the rest of your lives guiding the hands of our citizens, after all.”
A small sitting area at the top of the stairs held two armchairs, separated by a small table and a tall lamp. Emmaline pointed down a hall. “This is where the girls will stay. There are two bedrooms to the left and two bedrooms to the right with a bathroom on each side. You may choose your own rooms. Boys, you will be on the top floor.”
We followed Emmaline up another flight of stairs and into a third living area. This space had two long couches and a game table against the back wall. From the living area we saw two bedroom doors and a bathroom. But lights shining through a fourth door drew me away from the group.
“Ah, yes. It looks like Claren found the outdoor patio. Let’s go have a look.”
A small patio with iron railings curved around the corner of the building to a set of iron stairs that led us onto a rooftop deck. We all took spots along the railing of the deck and the sense of wonder that washed over me was felt by every member of our group. We were all awestruck at the sight of the lights of the city spread out before us. I’d never seen anything like this place, and I couldn’t believe I was going to get to call it home for the next two years.
“Not too shabby, huh?” The blond girl was grinning from ear to ear.
“Not shabby at all,” I said. Gazing off into the distance, I wondered where Cato was and if he was okay. He would’ve loved to see this place.
—————
Spots of light danced across the lush, green duvet covering my bed. I pretended for a moment that I was with Cato and Dad—that we’d all run away to the Outside together, and the light was dancing through a canopy of trees overhead rather than the lace curtains hanging over my window. But nothing could be further from the truth. Dad was probably dead by now, Cato was sleeping in old sewer lines, and I was laying on the most comfortable mattress in the largest room of the most magnificent house I’d ever seen. It hardly seemed fair.
I walked into the bathroom attached to my room, noting the intricate blue and white tiles and the fluffy blue towels stacked on a shelf beside the shower. It was freshly cleaned, a hint of bleach still lingering in the air. A door on the other side of the room opened and I jumped along with the blond walking through it.
“Oh my! I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize you were in here,” she said.
“You’re fine. I was just going to brush my teeth before heading down for breakfast.”
“Mind if I do the same?” she asked, gesturing to the second sink built into the oversized marble vanity.
“Not at all! I’m Claren, by the way.” I extended my hand to the friendly blond girl.
There hadn’t been time to talk the night before. We were all so exhausted by the end of the tour that everyone just settled into a bedroom and called it a day. But if I had to share a bathroom with a stranger, I was glad it was her. She seemed genuinely excited to be here, and it didn’t take an Empath to feel the kindness she radiated.
“Margo,” she said, returning the handshake. “Nice to meet you.”
We dressed and met again in the hallway, the aroma of bacon luring us to the stairs. Margo’s eyes were the size of walnuts, and her childlike glee was overflowing from every pore.
“I take it you’re a fan of bacon?” I chuckled.
“We never get bacon at home! This is like Christmas morning—come on!” She grabbed my hand, and we skipped down the hall to the stairs, our feet moving to the erratic beat of the sizzles and pops down below.
Strangers in the kitchen greeted us with a smile and directed us into the dining room, where an assortment of food was beautifully displayed across the gigantic mahogany table. There were fruits cut into bite-sized squares and spheres, spread into a rainbow of color across one large silver platter. Another contained fluffy yellow clouds of eggs and piles of bacon, separated by a wall of sausage links. There was a basket of biscuits and a bowl full of oatmeal. But I was most excited to see the tray full of muffins and scones, a light drizzle of frosting crisscrossing over the tops of each one.
Margo and I exchanged looks of bewilderment and happily settled into our seats.
“This is the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen!” Margo said, and I had to agree.
Leaning forward, I could see around the wall of the kitchen, where two chefs stood finishing another round of the breakfast feast. They were obviously Workers, but this couldn’t be their regular line of work—cooking in private homes. Perhaps they would leave for their normal jobs after their shift in our kitchen.
The boys were already seated, enjoying the food before them. Edgar’s plate was surprisingly filled with meat and eggs. I expected to see him eating some of the scones that I was about to enjoy, seeing as how sweets were kind of his standard. He met my gaze and turned a bright shade of pink, quickly averting his eyes. Poor Edgar. I didn’t intend to embarrass him.
A few minutes later the other two girls joined us, just as amazed at the display of food as we were. We all ate until we couldn’t eat anymore, making small talk and introductions.
“So you’re really from Peters borough?” I was shocked at what the short brunette across the table had just said. I’d learned a few minutes before that her name was Nita, and she grew up on the opposite side of the city from me.
“I am,” Nita replied. “I was the first person they picked up yesterday. We drove all over the city, stopping for each of you before coming back here last night. It was pretty crazy, I’d never been farther than Arcadia before last night!”
Peters borough was on the northernmost edge of Classen City. I thought our group house would be full of students from the southern boroughs, but it looked like we were from all over the edges of the city.
“So if we’re from all the outer edges of the city...” I began.
“Then the other two houses are full of students from the inner boroughs,” she finished.
I knew there would be a higher concentration of trainees from the inner part of the city, where the Peacemakers lived. It’s part of the reason the government worked so hard to find us great matches for our spouses. We were helping the process of natural selection in a sense. But I didn’t think they would outnumber us two to one.
I guess we’ll just have to show them what the outer boroughs are made of.
CHAPTER 12
The training facility was a short distance across the street, and our group from Unit 501 walked together. We seemed t
o form a bond of sorts over breakfast, knowing that we were all from similar backgrounds. Most of us came from working families, scattered along the outer edges of Classen City. And none of us expected to be here today.
Margo led the way, pulling open a large glass door on the front of the multipurpose building that housed the Peacemaker training facility. It’s modern steel and glass exterior was quite different from the traditional brick living quarters across the street. Whatever was there before the war must not have been in good enough condition to be restored, so it was demolished and the new multipurpose building built in its place.
A dark-haired administrative assistant sat at the front desk, sorting and filing paperwork. She smiled kindly as we entered.
“Good morning! Are you here for the Peacemaker training?”
“We are,” said Nita. “But we’re not sure where to go next.”
The woman stood and leaned over just enough to see around the wall behind her. She pointed to a set of double doors. “Your orientation will be in Conference Room A. The others are already in there.”
A clock hanging behind her desk showed that we had five minutes before the orientation was scheduled to begin. I was impressed with our group’s punctuality—it wasn’t easy to get six people moving quickly when we were all so full of bacon.
The conference room was slightly larger than our classrooms back home, but it had much finer furnishings. The wooden tables lined up in rows across the room had glass tops that reflected light from the steel fixtures hanging from the tall ceiling above. The blue and black cushioned chairs rolled silently on casters, like those you might find in office buildings near the business districts.
Most of the twenty or so students in the room were standing in small groups of three or four around the perimeter. They spoke quietly, but there was a sense of familiarity throughout the space. These were not strangers to one another. But as our small group of six was noticed, the energy in the room shifted.