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

by AR Colbert

  Margo nodded, her mouth set in a tense line. “I guess they’re not used to it this close to the Center. Of course, we got the attacks every so often back in Cleveland borough.”

  “Right, it happened in Morton, too.” I shook the image of my mother’s blood from my mind. But even apart from that, I’d heard of Outsiders breaking into homes, stealing food and supplies. Sela even had a neighbor who said he was caught in a fist fight with an Outsider one night on the way home from work. He swore the man was trying to hurt him. And Sam had a knife at the aptitude test.

  Maybe Frank wasn’t quite as innocent as I thought. Maybe the Outsiders did have nefarious plans.

  I thought of Cato and Raf. Surely they wouldn’t get caught up in something dangerous. I’d have known. I could read my brother like a book. Was Frank lying to them?

  “I think I’m gonna settle in early.” I stopped at the door to my bedroom.

  “Are you sure? Nita found some cards in the library downstairs. We were going to play a game and try to get our minds off of everything after we changed clothes. I’d love for you to join us.” Margo bit her lip, hopeful that I would change my mind.

  “I’m sure. I just need some rest.”

  “Well okay then, I guess I’ll see you in the morning.” Margo continued past me to her room. I ducked inside my door, closing it quickly behind me.

  Scurrying over to my bed, I lifted the corner of the mattress, where I had hidden the letter from Raf. I read through again, looking for any signs that things may be getting more serious.

  There will be a lot more education in the near future. Exciting things are happening.

  What did he mean by exciting things? I’d assumed he meant good things. Change. Freedom. The things they’d hoped for. But perhaps he found danger exciting?

  I rubbed my eyes hard with the heels of my hands. If only I could see Cato. I could warn him. I could tell him to keep his distance from Frank. Please be smart, Cato.

  —————

  After a day and a half of classroom study on weapons, we finally moved into the main hall of the multipurpose building where our training facilities were located. We’d learned a brief history of lethal weapons—how guns of the past led to the Great War, where citizens attacked the government, turned on each other, and destroyed life in the old United States.

  As a result of those actions, officials had banned firearms, making them illegal for use in New America by everyone except a select few Leaders. Stun guns were also outlawed for the general public, but as Peacemakers, we would have the clearance to use them when necessary.

  I picked up my gun from its case, gently turning it over in my hands as I examined its curves. It was heavier than I expected. The hard plastic grip was rough in my palm, and I resisted the urge to place my index finger on the trigger. It was calling me, like a forbidden temptress—one that I both feared and revered.

  “Stun guns have come a long way over the last fifty years,” Mr. Saxon droned on. “There is enough charge in each of these weapons for twelve shots. The most effective range of distance is within ten yards. In this range, a single shot will incapacitate your target, leaving an adult in severe pain and temporarily paralyzed. Your target will regain movement after approximately fifteen minutes, and full brain function will be restored within an hour. So you must be quick with your handcuffs, containing the target before he or she regains full movement and awareness.”

  Georgia scoffed. “This is so basic compared to what my mom has. I guess they save the best models for the most important Peacemakers. I can’t wait until I get an upgrade, too.”

  Mr. Saxon eyed her warily. “The MX-1640 is best for training. You will all be taught with these. It is sufficient for learning to aim and fire.”

  Margo nudged me with her elbow. “Ignore her,” she whispered.

  I turned my gaze away from Georgia, taking in the sight of the weapon in my hands once again. It was beautiful in a way, this small machine that held so much power. Not everyone shared my sentiments, though.

  Goosebumps dotted my arms—a reaction I couldn’t contain. They were a result of the other students’ fear. Edgar was practically trembling a few feet away from me. Even Margo seemed a bit rattled. Too bad Georgia wasn’t more intimidated.

  “Now everyone spread out along the wall behind us. Keep a few feet between yourselves and turn to face the targets we’ve set out on the opposite wall.”

  Georgia remained by Mr. Saxon’s side, radiating eagerness to get started. She was already confident in her abilities, per usual. But Margo was right, I needed to stop letting her get to me. We walked the full length of the wall to the opposite end of the room. Edgar followed closely behind.

  “Remember what we discussed in the classroom. We are going to practice aiming. Do not fire your weapons. We are only aiming right now.”

  Mr. Saxon strode along the wall behind us as we all lifted the guns toward our targets—silhouette cutouts across the room. “Good. Align your sights. Focus.”

  He’d make adjustments as he went, helping students straighten their arms, or lift their weapons. He spent a few minutes with Edgar, whose rapid breathing was preventing him from remaining steady on his target.

  “Ugh!” Georgia was loudly conveying her frustration from the other side of the hall. “Can we hurry up and shoot already? Those Outsiders aren’t waiting around. I want to be sure I’m ready for them.” She squinted one eye and aimed at the target before her, pretending to fire a shot. Grinning obnoxiously, she turned and looked at me over her shoulder.

  “Can she try to not be annoying for one minute?” I looked at Margo who was trying really hard to focus on her stance.

  “I don’t think she’s capable,” Margo said, never removing her eyes from her target. “It’s not in her genetic makeup to be likable.”

  I snorted and tried to practice my aim again. Mr. Saxon walked back to his starting point, satisfied that everyone had their aim ready.

  “Alright, now I want everyone to take a single shot. Remember to concentrate, and keep one eye on your target at all times. Hold your breath as you pull the trigger. You can do this.”

  One by one shots of light flew from our line toward the cutouts. The shots were quieter than I thought they would be, just a whiz and a flash before us. My finger pulled against the smooth metal trigger, bringing it closer to my body with a satisfying click. Squinting, I could see the mark it left near the center of my target. Not bad. I kind of liked that.

  Georgia’s target was also marked near the center, which was unfortunate. I had hoped she’d be a bad shot. She needed something to bring her arrogance down a notch.

  “That’s for the Outsider who stole our ham last month,” she said at full volume, with a sneer. The rest of the class turned toward her, admiring her shot.

  Her sneer turned into a full grin. She loved being the center of everyone’s attention. Taking full advantage of her spotlight, she fired off another shot, not waiting for instructions from Mr. Saxon. The attention of our classmates only seemed to fuel her.

  “And that’s for the man who tried to jump the Center walls from my backyard.” She turned and looked at me again after the second shot hit the center of her target. Her eyes were narrowed, glimmering with anticipation. “Sure hope it wasn’t anyone’s daddy.”

  I swallowed the hard lump that had instantly formed in my throat. That shot was for me. She knows about my dad. My grip tightened around the weapon I still held. I knew I should resist Georgia’s dare. There was more power in ignoring her. But she was begging me to react.

  Margo, suddenly aware of the anger I was unable to freeze down inside, reached out and gently placed her hand on my arm.

  “Drop it,” she whispered. “She’s just trying to get under your skin.”

  It was working.

  “Ms. Hines, that’s enough.” Mr. Saxon was making his way back to Georgia, his short legs working quickly to carry his round frame over to where she stood. But he was too slow.


  “And this one,” Georgia said, looking right at me before turning back to her target, “is for a thief who is too afraid to face the consequences of his actions. I hope he dies in the Outside.”

  My shot fired at the same time as Georgia’s, our movements almost synchronized. Both hit their targets. A third mark appeared on Georgia’s cutout across the room, and at the same time, her body hit the floor.

  So much for hiding my emotions.

  CHAPTER 16

  The reflections of the lights on the glossy gray tiles took turns reaching me slowly as my feet moved across them in a blur. My pace matched Mr. Saxon’s, who marched silently beside me.

  A storm of emotions raged inside, swirling with fear of the unknown and the sweet satisfaction of giving Georgia what she deserved. I tried to push everything down—everything except the tiniest ray of remorse, which I nurtured, hoping Mr. Saxon would hone in on it and grant me some leeway.

  I’d messed up. There was no doubt about that. But I couldn’t figure out how Georgia even found out about my family. Edgar was the only other person in the program from Morton borough, and I really didn’t think he’d say anything. And even if he had, Edgar didn’t know about Cato.

  Mr. Saxon stopped outside of a charcoal-colored metal door. A small window revealed nothing from my angle except pale gray walls and a clock. He delivered three rapid knocks before twisting the handle and letting himself in. I followed.

  Emmaline’s sharp eyes shot up, quickly assessing the situation before her. She studied me for just a moment before finally speaking.

  “Hello Mr. Saxon. This is unexpected. How can I help you?

  “We’ve had an incident,” he replied grimly. “Healers are on their way.”

  “I see.” Emmaline pursed her lips, thinking about how to proceed. I focused on nothing but my remorse. I didn’t want them to know how I really felt about stunning Georgia. I also couldn’t reveal my ability to block my affect—especially since I was about to get kicked out of the program. So I focused instead on how I thought I should feel.

  Pushing back from her desk, Emmaline stood and met us at the door.

  “Please have a seat.” She gestured toward a chair in front of the desk. “I need to speak privately with Mr. Saxon.”

  They closed the door behind them, leaving me alone in Emmaline’s sterile office. I slid into the wooden chair that sat before the matching oak desk. It had a blue-violet cushion attached to the seat, and my thumbnail scratched across the thick canvas material it was made of, providing a quiet zipping noise to match the tick of the clock. Otherwise, the room was uncomfortably silent.

  The good news was that Cato still hadn’t been caught. Georgia definitely would have let me know if the Protectors had him. But how did she know about him at all?

  A large glass window behind Emmaline’s desk offered a view of the street below, and our row of group homes just beyond. I hoped I’d be able to say goodbye to Margo before they took me back to Morton borough. She’d tried to stop me. At the very least I would leave her a note before I left, and maybe ask her to help Edgar, too.

  The door opened again behind me and Emmaline strode in, a serious look on her face. I tried to get a sense of how she was feeling, searching for any clues as to what might happen, but she was completely blank. Either she had no emotions, or she was supremely good at blocking her affect. My bet was on the latter, and her control was both admirable and a little unsettling. I doubled down on my own efforts.

  “Claren, I’d like to hear your account of what happened.”

  This was all too familiar. The sterile surroundings, the harsh lighting, Emmaline staring at me across the table, patiently awaiting my answer. The only difference was that no one had died this time. Georgia was probably already coming around again.

  I breathed in through my nose, choosing my words carefully. I would have to be strategic. Emmaline surely knew about my family, but if she sensed even a hint of association between me and the Outsiders I’d be more than kicked out of the Peacemaker training program. I’d potentially be exiled.

  “I’m sorry Ms. Fraser. I’m afraid I let my emotions get the best of me.”

  She nodded, studying my every move. “Yes, I’m afraid you did. But what exactly did Georgia say that upset you so badly?”

  I remembered her smug little face rattling on about my dad. It was annoying for sure, but it wasn’t until she mentioned Cato that I’d lost control. I glanced down at the desk, studying the grain in the wood as I pushed my anger back down.

  “She mentioned my family.” My voice was quiet, controlled. I looked back up to see understanding register in Emmaline’s eyes.

  “And that made you angry?” She knew the answer. “Angry because she called your brother a thief?”

  It was a test. Emmaline was prodding me. She wanted me to defend Cato—to demonstrate a lack of allegiance to the law, giving her a reason to take me to the courts where I would surely be punished. I inhaled again, burying the anger deep in a bed of ice. Freeze her out.

  “No. If my brother committed a crime, he should be punished accordingly. She made me angry by drawing question to my character. Everyone in the room could feel her accusing stare. I don’t appreciate her efforts to turn the others against me. Trust is the main currency for Peacemakers, and I felt as though she was trying to rob me of it.”

  “And can you be trusted?”

  “Absolutely.”

  Emmaline sat back in her chair, considering my words. “Look, I’m going to cut right to the chase. I’m not sure we’re getting the full story from you.”

  My stomach flipped. This was it. I was going to be exiled.

  “But you have an amazing natural talent with the weapons. Sure, Georgia’s good, too. But she’s been training for years with her mother. Don’t let her innocence fool you.”

  Ha. Georgia wasn’t pulling the wool over Emmaline’s eyes, at least. But my shooting skills were going to be irrelevant when I was assigned my new position as a Worker in the borough.

  “And you say you lost your temper,” Emmaline continued. “But I believe you actually have quite a bit of control over your emotions. More than most.”

  Her eyes narrowed at me as mine widened. She was on to me.

  “The good news is that controlling your emotions is a skill we can use. Tell me, where is Cato now?”

  “I don’t know.” It was the truth. I didn’t know where exactly my brother was hiding, and I’d never been so grateful for ignorance. Emmaline continued to study me before speaking again.

  “Unfortunately, we have reason to believe your brother may be involved with the Outsiders.” She paused, gauging my reaction.

  As much as I wanted to hide it, I felt my body tense. Emmaline saw it too. The corners of her mouth turned up just a fraction of an inch, and she leaned forward, placing her forearms on the desk between us.

  “Don’t worry. I have no intention of holding your family’s crimes against you. But if what you say is true, then you believe your brother is in the wrong. And since you say I can trust you, I know that you will do what it takes to help us locate him, correct?”

  The sudden uptick in my pulse made me lightheaded. I wanted to run or cry or curl into a ball under the desk. I should have practiced blocking more. What have I gotten myself into?

  If I changed my story and refused to help her find Cato, I could be taken to the courts for aiding and abetting a criminal. And I certainly wouldn’t be of much help to him if I got exiled alongside him. I’d have to convince Emmaline that I would help her.

  Slowly, I nodded. Emmaline’s grin widened.

  “Good. I was hoping we could count on you. I think you’ve got a great deal of natural ability, Claren, and with your help, I think Classen City will be stronger, better. You’re going to improve a lot of lives, and I’m really glad to have you on our side.”

  I returned her smile and hoped it looked and felt authentic.

  “Thank you. I’m happy to help. Just let me know wha
t I need to do.” And please make it easy for me to fake.

  Emmaline was pleased. For the first time, she allowed me to sense what she was feeling, or at least what she wanted me to think she was feeling. I didn’t trust her for a second, but seeing her smile warmed me inside. I thought of my mom and wondered if she’d be proud of me, too.

  “We’ll start in two weeks. You’ll all be granted a week off from training. You’ll return home during the break, and I want you to try to make contact with Cato. We need some information from him before we apprehend him, and I’m hoping you can help us. Can you do that for me?”

  “I don’t know if I’ll be able to find him,” I lied. Of course Raf would allow me to see him. “But if I do, what kind of information are you looking for?”

  “We want to know who he’s been hanging around. I don’t even need to know where he’s been hiding, I just want to know who has been hiding him. And if he won’t tell you, I’ll need you to find out another way. It’s important, Claren, for both the safety of our city and the security of your future.”

  Her somber expression didn’t leave room for me to speculate. I had to bring her some information or I’d be toast.

  “Understood.” I tried to keep a brave face, but inside my walls were crumbling. There was no way I was going to tell her anything about Raf.

  “Good,” she said, a tentative smile returning to her pink lips.”I’ll be back in Noble borough when you return from your break. I expect a full report, with precise details.”

  She pulled a black case out from under her desk. “Take this back to your room and put it somewhere safe. You may need it when you return to Morton.”

  I accepted the heavy black case. It was more elegant than the case I’d held an hour earlier. I suspected the stun gun inside was more modern than those we’d been training with downstairs.

  “Thank you,” I said, scooting my chair back and standing.

  “Of course. And Claren? Please don’t shoot your classmates again.”