From the Dust: A Dystopian Novel (Ember Society Book 1)

by AR Colbert

  Not one to be deterred by negativity, Margo marched right through the crowds, smiling and saying hello as she went. I admired her courage. Walking into a room full of Empaths was like jumping into a pool of sharks, but she handled it with grace and dignity. And because every person in the room could read her emotions, they knew she meant it. Margo wasn’t judgmental or trying to prove a point to anyone. She was just genuinely happy and honored to be in the room, ready to learn.

  I took her cue and tried to improve my attitude. Being happy had to be easier than constantly blocking my true emotions. I could only stay frozen for so long.

  “Claren, meet Georgia and Trudy.” Margo had already made some friends. “They grew up just around the corner from here, and they’ve been best friends since they were seven. Isn’t that awesome? It must be so fun to start your career with your best friend!”

  “Yeah... fun,” Georgia said flatly, tossing her long, straight, chestnut-colored hair over her shoulder. Trudy dropped her gaze to the floor.

  “So what was your best friend selected for?” she asked Margo. I didn’t like the tone of her voice.

  “She’s a Worker. She got a great position in the market near our school.” Margo’s smile never wavered, though she had to feel the tension building. Several students around us had stopped to see what was going to happen as well. It was weird to be in a place where everyone knew how everyone else was feeling at all times.

  Georgia’s mouth curled up into a sneer. “That’s sweet. I’m sure it takes real talent to put all those groceries into bags.” She paused, taking a moment to grin at some of the students standing near us as though they were a crowd of adoring fans. Trudy grinned back at her, and they turned to face Margo again. “And you’re right—you probably would be better suited in a career with your best friend. You seem like you’d really know how to sling those bags, too. It would be so... fun.” Georgia rolled her eyes as she walked away, and the small audience she’d garnered turned their attention back to other conversations.

  “Well isn’t she a ray of sunshine?” I said.

  “It’s alright,” Margo replied. “We’re all nervous today, and people get weird when they’re jittery.”

  She was being way too generous in her assessment of Georgia, but I didn’t have the heart to tell her. She was right about one thing, though. The room was alive, bouncing with nervous energy.

  We made our way over to a table in the second row. Behind us sat a couple of boys whispering excitedly. They stopped when we got closer, and I could feel their eyes on my back.

  “Ask her.”

  Margo gave me a reassuring nod. It was nice to have a friend on my side. I could feel the boys’ suspicion washing over me, resting on my shoulders like a black cape, shrouding me in mystery. But rather than hiding in the shadows, I decided to wear my cape with pride. It was my turn to have a little fun.

  I turned around to face them. One was grinning at the other, his eyes prodding the other boy, daring him to speak. The friend was shorter, with curly black hair resting neatly on top of his head. He wasn’t afraid, but there was something I couldn’t quite read from him. Doubt? Skepticism, maybe?

  “Do you have a question for me?” I asked, blinking innocently. Margo’s shoulders bounced with a silent laugh beside me.

  The shorter boy shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Uh... yeah. Are you Claren Greenwood?”

  It was surprising to hear him use my name, but I didn’t let him know it. “Who wants to know?”

  His friend’s grin widened, and I turned my attention to him instead.

  “Is it you? Are you curious about something?” the grin disappeared, and I could feel his heart rate pick up. Meanwhile, the curly-haired boy was now the one chuckling.

  “We heard you weren’t coming. You didn’t turn in your letter.”

  “Did you? How interesting that you’ve heard of me at all.”

  The boy’s cheeks reddened. “We heard about the Outsider at your test. And that you stopped him. They’ve been whispering about you around here for two weeks, but we heard you weren’t coming to train.”

  Margo looked at me from the side of her eyes, her curiosity brimming over. This was new information to her.

  “Why wouldn’t I?” I shoved my own emotions down into the frozen dungeon I’d created inside. What else did they hear about? Did they know about Cato?

  “Well with all the other attacks from Outsiders lately, we thought maybe you’d try to lay low. If they know you’re here, that makes us a pretty easy target if they try to retaliate.”

  Other attacks? The Outsiders weren’t attacking anyone. And they certainly weren’t going to try to retaliate against me. But I couldn’t explain any of that to these boys, or to anyone else here. I had to blend in, be one of them. Instead, I pulled my imaginary cape around me and leaned into the mysterious persona they’d subconsciously assigned to me. I was a new Claren here. And Claren the Peacemaker was strong.

  I shrugged. “Let them come. I’m not scared.”

  Margo averted her wide eyes as I turned back to face the front of the room. A short bald man had just stepped up and cleared his throat, signaling the start of our Orientation.

  —————

  I gathered a pen and some paper from the top drawer of a small white desk against the wall of my new bedroom. The tip of the pen touched the paper several times before writing a single word, lifting off again and swirling through the air as I gathered my thoughts. I wasn’t sure what to say. Raf was clear about not wanting any obvious connections between us. Finally I wrote:

  Hi friend,

  I made it safely, but just barely. Thank you again for helping me get going. I think you were right- this training will be good for me.

  How are things back at home? Any updates on your lost dog? I’ve been worried about him. Please let me know if you find him soon.

  I read and re-read the note twenty times before folding it up and placing it inside a blank envelope. I wasn’t sure how to sign it discreetly, so I didn’t sign it at all. I hoped Raf would be smart enough to figure out who it was from, but just in case, I drew a small picture of a rat on the back flap. That should jog his memory, I thought with a snicker.

  I ran downstairs to grab a blueberry muffin, but I couldn’t stay and chat. I had a mission to accomplish. With the envelope tucked under my arm, concealed by my sweater, I took my muffin and a cup of tea out onto the steps of the porch.

  There I waited. And waited. My tea was long gone, but still I remained, muffin wrapper balled up inside of a napkin clenched in my fist. Across the street, the multipurpose building sat dormant, like a sleeping beast made of sharp angles. Monday morning the lights would turn on again, and the beast would come to life as we trickled in for our first real day of training. But in that moment all was quiet.

  When my fingers were red from the cool morning breeze and my bottom was numb from sitting too long on the cold cement stairs, I heard the old familiar rumble. I stood to stretch and spotted my brother’s old sanitation truck a block away. I tried to look busy, examining a bush under the windows until it finally pulled up to the curb in front of our building.

  Bilton Gragg, one of my brother’s buddies from Morton borough, was hanging from the back of the truck.

  “Hey Billy!” I waved and held out my hand to reveal the wad of trash leftover from my breakfast. “Do you mind if I throw this into the can real quick before you take it?”

  Billy smiled. “Hey Claren!” Then, remembering Cato, he grew somber quickly. Feeling his reaction stopped me on the sidewalk, the weight of my reality forcing itself upon me again. But I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t break down. Not here, and especially not now.

  Billy jogged toward me. “Yeah of course! Here, I’ll take it for you.” Then in a hushed voice he added, “I’m so sorry about Cato.”

  I nodded. “Thanks. Have they found him yet?”

  Billy shook his head. “Not yet. But Cato’s tough. I’m sure he’s doing okay, wherever
he is.”

  “I’m sure he is.” I didn’t know how much Billy knew, or if he was someone to be trusted, but I felt no harsh emotions from him at all. He seemed genuinely sorry to hear about Cato. I didn’t have any other options anyway, so I decided to take a risk.

  “Can I ask you one more favor, please?”

  “Anything.” The sincerity in his eyes told me he meant it.

  I pulled the letter from under my arm. “Will you please take this back to the headquarters for me?” I hesitated, again unsure of how much to reveal. But there was no way around it. “It’s for Raf.”

  Billy nodded and tucked the letter inside his vest. “I’d be happy to.”

  “And Billy—I won’t be able to meet you here next week. If anything comes back for me, will you please leave it in a clip under the lid of the trashcan? I’ll have it attached and ready for you, just in case.”

  He nodded again. “I will, but I’ve really got to get going. They’re going to wonder...”

  “Of course,” I said quickly. “Go on. And thank you again.”

  I wrapped my arms tightly around my chest as I watched him hop back onto the truck and pull forward to their next stop. I hoped with everything I had that my plan wouldn’t backfire.

  CHAPTER 13

  We didn’t venture out much over the weekend. Heavy rains fell all day Saturday, and we didn’t have anywhere to go even if we did want to leave. Luckily for us, there was plenty to explore right there in our new home.

  I took my time scanning the book-filled shelves lining the walls. Reading had always been a passion of mine. I came to learn it was one of Margo’s favorite pastimes as well. We sat cozied up in a couple of the overstuffed armchairs at the top of the second floor one afternoon, sipping tea and discussing our favorite stories.

  “You know, sometimes I almost feel like this is all make-believe, too.” Margo stared thoughtfully into the bottom of her empty cup.

  “I know what you mean. I never thought I’d be selected as a Peacemaker.”

  “Me either,” said Margo. “I really thought I’d be a Worker. Nearly everyone in Cleveland borough is.”

  “It’s the same way in Morton.” I pulled a throw pillow into my lap and set my cup on the table between us. “So where did you think you would be placed?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. I would have loved to work in the theater.”

  “Really? Do you sing or dance?”

  Margo laughed. “Oh no! Nothing like that! But I’ve always loved the sets. I think it’s amazing to dream about life in other worlds. Working on the sets or behind the scenes would have been my ultimate dream job.”

  “It would have gotten you closer to the Center, too,” I added.

  “Not as close as we are now!” We both laughed again, looking around at our surroundings. “So what about you? What were you hoping for?”

  “I wanted to be a Healer.”

  “Really? I could never handle the sight of blood.” Margo shivered.

  “My mom was a Healer.”

  Margo leaned in, listening intently.

  “And I always admired her. She was so passionate about her work. To her, they were more than just wounds needing to be patched, they were people. And she got to know all kinds of people.” I smiled, remembering the stories she’d tell us.

  My mom knew me better than anyone. I wished she was still around—able to help me figure out how to help Cato. Able to help me talk some sense into him about the Outside. She’d encouraged me to pursue my strengths and to truly use them for the greater good. Good was all she knew. Good is just who she was.

  “What happened to her?” Margo asked.

  “The Outsiders got her.”

  Margo placed her hand on top of mine, sensing the grief that I couldn’t hide behind my frozen facade. “Well maybe that’s why you’re here. It’s your turn to get the people who got your mom.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” I said. But who were those people? They weren’t the Outsiders I knew.

  —————

  Monday morning brought a renewed sense of excitement into the house. Even Edgar, who’d spent the entire weekend hiding out in his room on the third floor was downstairs talking with the group over breakfast. And another fine breakfast it was. We’d accepted that feasts for every meal were just a part of our new lives— at least while we were all living in the group house. Cooking all day for the Peacemaker trainees was the chefs’ job.

  On the whole, our group was much more confident walking over to the training facility. Edgar still hesitated a bit before entering the building, but the rest of us were ready. We might have been outnumbered by students who grew up near the Center, but that just meant we had more to lose and more motivation to prove ourselves. We were just as good as they were.

  Georgia wasn’t buying it though. She slid into the seat beside me with a mocking grin, obviously trying to intimidate me. But I wasn’t going down easily. “I see you’re still here,” she said, looking me up and down.

  “Unfortunately, you are too.”

  “Pfft.” She promptly turned her back to me and gossiped with Trudy on the other side of her until class began.

  The bald man from orientation, Mr. Saxon, stepped up to greet us. “Good morning, and welcome back. Before we begin your training, I am pleased to announce that we have a very special guest with us here today.”

  A young, sharply dressed man in a muted blue suit walked in through the door to the side of Mr. Saxon, right on cue. The suit was tailored to hug his muscular build in all the right places, and I caught myself staring as he joined our short instructor at the front of the room. He stood a foot taller than Mr. Saxon, maybe fourteen inches if you included the perfect blond swoosh of hair atop his head.

  There was a shift in the energy of the room—specifically the female energy—and I blushed at the vibes I was picking up from Georgia beside me. That girl had it bad.

  “Felix Walsh, our newest Senator in training, has come by to welcome you all to the program.”

  Felix flashed his perfect white smile and lit up the room. He was definitely a Leader. I knew it before his introduction.

  “That’s right,” he said. His voice was deep and smooth like caramel. “Welcome to the program. As you may know, I’m beginning a training program of my own this year. My father, the current Senator Walsh, has taken me under his wing in preparation to fill his shoes. It was an honor to be selected as a Leader at my own aptitude test a few weeks ago, and I’ll be working alongside many of you in the future. As such, I wanted to say hello today and wish you all much success in your training.”

  He made eye contact with as many of us as he could during his brief speech, like a true professional. When he looked in our direction, Georgia all but melted into the seat beside me. She was absolutely losing her mind over the guy. He was attractive for sure, but her reactions were a little over the top.

  “We wish you success as well, Mr. Walsh.” Georgia was wearing her sweetest smile, and blinking so hard I thought she must’ve had an eyelash in her eye.

  “Georgia Hines,” she said, standing and extending her hand. “We met at the Spring Gala honoring my mother a few weeks ago—Chief Justice Martha Hines.”

  Felix maintained his perfect grin, but there was no recognition in his eyes. “Nice to see you again, Georgia.”

  She dropped her hand, hoping to save some face when he didn’t walk over to greet her personally. He must not have realized that he was in a room full of Empaths and that we all knew exactly what he was feeling. We also felt the embarrassment Georgia was attempting to hide. I might have felt bad for her if she hadn’t been so rotten.

  I didn’t mean to laugh at her though. In fact, I didn’t even realize I was smiling until she turned and glared at me.

  “It’s nice to see you too, Mr. Walsh.” She returned her gaze to Felix. “I always enjoy seeing familiar faces around the Center.”

  Felix gave a polite nod before turning back toward our teacher.

&
nbsp; Georgia shot me a sharp look from the corners of her eyes. Her last remark was more a reminder for me that I wasn’t of the same caliber as her and the others from the inner borough than it was a kind thought for Felix. She sat down and pulled out a sheet of notebook paper, quickly scribbling out a message. On the page, in oversized capital letters were the words:

  YOU DON’T BELONG HERE.

  She slammed the page on the table in front of me, purposely drawing as much attention to it as she could. The few snickers I heard around us didn’t bother me nearly as much as Georgia feeling like she had power over me, even in that small way. She sat a bit taller, a proud smirk set on her smug little face.

  At the front of the room Felix was still turned around, speaking privately to Mr. Saxon. They looked as though they were tending to some business, so I had a moment to show Georgia exactly what I thought of her opinion.

  Gripping the paper loosely between my fingers, letting it hang so that the other students could read the giant letters, I stood. My eyes narrowed as I locked them on Georgia’s, and I slowly made my way around the table, taking the long way to the trash can so as many of the other students could see me as possible.

  Georgia’s exterior remained tough and cold, seemingly unfazed. But on the inside she was squirming. She didn’t like being called out as the bad guy in this situation.

  What she couldn’t see was that I was squirming on the inside as well. I hated having attention drawn to me. But apparently no one else in the training program had learned to block their emotions yet, which meant I had the unique ability to mask how I truly felt. I shoved my nerves down deep and channeled Peacemaker Claren, the stronger version of myself.

  Never once looking away from Georgia, I approached the trash can, slowly crumpled her attempt to cut me down, and dramatically dropped it into the bin below. It was working. I could feel the respect building for me, for us—the working-class students from the edge. Success.