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

by AR Colbert

  Emmaline’s brows furrowed and she extended her hands. I looked from her palms to her face and back again.

  “I want to believe you, Claren.” She pulled her fingers in and out twice, gesturing for me to place my hands in hers. Reluctantly, I obeyed.

  Immediately, a sense of calm washed over me. It was the same feeling she’d projected back at the security office when we’d first met. It was a soothing mix of love and trust, with a hefty dose of drowsiness and warmth in my inner core. I wanted to curl up in her lap while she patted my back and told me everything would be okay. I wanted to confide in her.

  But I knew it was coming this time. And though I was no expert at blocking my affect, I’d been practicing hard over the last week. I had an icy wall— albeit a small one— at the ready.

  So when Emmaline asked me if there was anything else I wanted to add, I had enough control to say no. When she asked if I could give her an address for where to find my brother, I said no. I didn’t know where the Gadsons lived, so that one was easy. I didn’t even say their name. And when she asked me if she could trust me to go back and carry out the task to its completion, I smiled and assured her that I would be honored to do so. I just didn’t tell her which task I was looking forward to completing.

  I told her everything she wanted to hear, and though she was still frustrated with my answers, she eventually let me go.

  But the craziest part of it all is that when she released me, my first instinct was to go back. I hated to admit it, but those false feelings of love she projected reminded me of something. Of someone. She reminded me of my mom.

  CHAPTER 22

  The main hall of the training center was completely transformed for the Harvest Dinner. Georgia had been pouting all week about the decision to host the dinner there in the multipurpose building. She said it was “unrefined” and “below” the Leaders to attend an event at the training center.

  But I thought it looked spectacular. Long tables with white cloths lined the south wall. Chefs were spaced along the wall as well, offering incredible smelling morsels from shiny silver serving dishes. There were appetizers and desserts. Sweet and savory. Sauces, and bread, and vegetables I’d never seen before. If I wasn’t careful, I’d be able to eat enough to pop the seams on the gorgeous dress Margo had designed for me, and that would be a shame. The dress was truly a work of art.

  What started as a simple, emerald green sheath dress had been cinched and slit and hemmed to reveal curves I didn’t know I had. And according to Margo, the color brought out the green in my hazel eyes. With the addition of small fluttery sleeves and a low cut back with a sparkly brooch at the bottom of the V, Margo had created a real show stopper. Even Edgar had stopped to appreciate the dress as I entered the living room before dinner.

  After filling my plate with many of my favorite foods and a handful of new things to try, I dragged Margo away from the grill and set off to find a place to eat. There were no seats in the room. Instead, small round tables that stood about chest high were scattered around the edges. In the center of the room, a large wood dance floor commanded attention from every angle, though no one was on it yet. A small band played gentle instrumental melodies in the northeast corner of the room, creating the perfect background track for us to eat and meet some of the new faces who joined us for the evening.

  The large overhead fluorescent lights were off, and the ceiling was dotted with thousands of tiny twinkling lights that resembled a dense starry sky. Margo looked like she had died and gone to heaven. And if it was heaven, Margo was an angel, dressed in a shimmery silver-blue dress that reached the floor. Her golden hair reflected the twinkling lights above, and her smile reflected the pure bliss she felt from being surrounded by so much glamour.

  “Isn’t it magnificent?” she sighed.

  It was. It was stunning. But I quickly remembered how out of place we were as I watched Margo bite an enormous piece of steak off of her fork. I let out a surprised laugh, and my eyes must’ve reflected my shock because Margo almost spit it back out with her giggle in response.

  “You are such a carnivore! I swear, I’ve never seen such a dainty girl put away so much meat in my life!”

  She swallowed her mouthful and began cutting another bite. “Hey, when in Noble, eat steak. Right?”

  “You ladies look like you’re having a good time over here.” I recognized the smooth baritone voice immediately, and confirmed it with the quick change in Margo’s demeanor. She looked over my shoulder at our approaching guest with wide eyes and quickly set down her fork in exchange for a linen to wipe her mouth.

  I turned just in time to see Felix Walsh, Senator-in-training, approach our small table from behind me.

  “We are.” I smiled. “Are you having fun?”

  “I am now.” Felix locked his blue eyes on mine, freezing me in place momentarily. I couldn’t look away. He was far too forward for my taste, but he wasn’t bad to look at. Not bad at all.

  Margo cleared her throat. “We were just complimenting the chefs,” she said.

  “Ah, yes. They have done a wonderful job this evening. The food is delicious, but have you tried the wine?” Felix held a finger in the air, and a waiter hurried over carrying a silver tray topped with four clear glasses on tall stems. Felix took three glasses, handing one to both Margo and me. We exchanged quick uneasy glances with one another, confirming that neither of us had ever had wine before.

  I thought back to Cato in the church building, rolling empty bottles from his black trash sack. This was all new to me, but for people in the Center like Felix Walsh, drinking wine was just an everyday occurrence. He probably had drinks like this for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

  “To the newest class of Peacemakers,” Felix said, raising his glass in the air. I watched for a moment, waiting to see what happened next. He chuckled and leaned in close to me to whisper, “Now you raise your glass and say the same thing.”

  The feel of his warm breath on my ear sent a shiver down my neck, but I tried to shake it off as I nudged Margo and repeated Felix’s words. She caught on quickly.

  He clinked his glass against ours and took a drink. I followed suit and forced myself to swallow the wine. For something that looked so beautiful swirling around in the glass, it sure tasted awful. I shuddered and tried to fake a smile.

  Felix grinned at that and set his glass down. “You know, I didn’t think it was that great either. Maybe we should dance, instead.” He extended a large hand toward me with a hopeful smile.

  Margo’s heart racing beside me wasn’t helping to calm me down. I looked out at the empty dance floor and back to Felix.

  “Um, I’m not sure it’s time to dance just yet. The band isn’t exactly rocking over there.”

  “Follow my lead,” he said with a wink. “They’ll know what to do.”

  If looks could speak, Margo’s would have been shouting at me to Go! What are you waiting for?

  I placed my hand in his and felt every eye in the room on us as we made our way to the dance floor. Edgar’s looked down at his feet, his cheeks flushing as we walked by. Georgia’s shot daggers at me. And Felix’s simply twinkled as he looked over in my direction, pulling me a little closer as we walked to the center of the room.

  He was right. As soon as our shoes hit the dance floor the band picked up the volume. It didn’t take long for others to follow our example. It was mostly older couples at first—the Leaders and their spouses joining us on the dance floor. But slowly other students trickled in as well.

  I spotted Margo dancing and laughing with Lennie at one point, their feet moving naturally with the beat. Nita was bouncing around with a red-haired boy from the inner boroughs, and even Trudy had found someone to dance with. I’d lost track of Georgia, though I wasn’t trying hard to spot her. Felix had me too distracted to keep track of anyone for too long.

  I tried to break away a few times, offering to trade partners with Margo or sneak off for some water. But he always caught up with me again.
It would have been a little unnerving if I hadn’t been able to identify his every emotion. But he wasn’t malicious. On the contrary, Felix seemed quite fond of me. And I wasn’t one to complain about strong, handsome, soon to be very powerful men having a fondness for me.

  So though I wanted to try the different cakes and cookies spread out on the tables, I danced with Felix instead. When I spotted Emmaline frowning off to the side of the dance floor, I ignored it, allowing Felix to twirl me in circles. And when Margo asked me to join her for a touch-up in the ladies room, I told her she’d have to wait until after this dance. It’s what Frank would have wanted—I was sure of it. He would be thrilled to hear about my connections in the Center. Dancing with Felix was for the real greater good.

  And he wasn’t a bad dancer. But like all good things in my life, the fun I was having on the dance floor came to an end. And like everything else I enjoyed, it wasn’t a peaceful ending. It was abrupt. Harsh. And painful.

  The band stopped playing as soon as the doors swung open, and the tension that suddenly filled the room made the air thick and difficult to breathe. Something was seriously wrong.

  Four Protectors stomped menacingly through the doors, and Margo shot me a look of sheer terror. She looked like she was going to be sick.

  “Where’s Phil Gadson?” one of them shouted.

  A tall, slender man with closely cropped black hair stepped forward with his hands in the air. “I’m right here, Officer. Is there a problem.”

  “Yes, Mr. Gadson. There is a problem. You’re under arrest.”

  Margo began to cry, her shoulders shaking beside me. Time seemed to freeze for a moment as I watched her in wonder. Did Margo know the Gadsons? Why was she so upset?

  The touch of Felix’s hand on my bare back slowly brought me out of my haze, and the enormity of the situation playing out finally hit me. Mr. Gadson—a Leader— the Treasurer for Classen City was being arrested, publicly. And I knew what his crime was.

  They found Cato.

  My feet were moving toward the Protectors before I had time to stop and consider the repercussions, but I didn’t make it far. Felix stopped me with one fell swoop of his muscular arm.

  “Stand down,” he whispered.

  I turned to face him, frantically considering my options. “But you don’t understand—” I started.

  “Shh.” Felix placed a finger to my lips and pulled me in for a hug. But I didn’t want a hug. I wanted to run and find out what happened to Cato. I struggled for a moment in his arms, but he held me tight, patting my back and telling me it would be okay. Like he had any idea...

  I wriggled my hands between us, bringing them up to his chest where I gave a hard shove. But he still held tight. His strength could overpower me ten to one, and it was clear I wasn’t getting anywhere. Once I stopped squirming in defeat, he leaned in again and whispered into my hair.

  “I need you to relax. Do not draw attention. Do not reveal your despair.”

  I pulled back to find a somber expression on his face. He was right, of course. I needed to keep up the front that I was on the city’s side. Criminals should be punished. And as far as anyone else knew, I had absolutely zero connections to Mr. Gadson and his family.

  But how did Felix know anything about that? Was I being played? Did he know about Cato?

  Turning to the doors where the Protectors were marching Mr. Gadson to his fate with his arms behind his back, I stifled my cries and put on a brave face. We stood huddled on the dance floor shoulder to shoulder with other trainees and Leaders, watching as Mr. Gadson was escorted from the premises.

  Murmurs filled the room, with speculations of Mr. Gadson’s crimes flying wildly. It was astonishing how quickly his friends and colleagues were turning on him in his darkest hour. Beside me, Margo continued to sob, gasping for her breath with one hand on my wrist. I gave her a tiny shake of my head, willing her to stop and pull herself together, but it did no good.

  With Felix’s hand on my waist, and Margo’s hand on my wrist, I was being pulled in two very different, very confusing directions. And all I really wanted to do was find my brother. I squeezed my eyes shut, praying that when I opened them everything would return to normal. The band would be playing an upbeat tune and waiters would dip in and out of the crowd with serving trays full of chocolates and wine.

  But what I really saw was Emmaline’s cold stare from across the room. Felix saw it too, because his pulse quickened and he pulled me away, using his fingers to guide my movement from the small of my back. “Come on,” he said quietly.

  “Wait!” Margo looked at me with desperation in her eyes. “I have to tell you myself, before you hear it from someone else.”

  I put up my hand, telling Felix to hold off as I watched Margo breathe in, attempting to collect her thoughts. And suddenly, it was as if no one else was in the room. I focused entirely on Margo and her feelings. Tears sprang to my eyes as I began to understand. Her guilt was rising inside me, bringing bile to my throat, and I shook my head. “Oh, Margo. Please tell me you didn’t.”

  Tears flowed generously from her eyes, streaming down her cheeks and landing on her dress, creating the illusion of a pool where the shimmering blue fabric darkened with the moisture.

  “I’m so sorry.” Her eyes cut over to where Emmaline stood expressionless near the wall. “I had to.” A loud sob escaped her lips and she looked as though she would crumple into a heap of despair on the dance floor.

  “Let’s go,” said Felix, pulling me to the back doors of the main hall.

  And I didn’t resist. I couldn’t. My brain had officially stopped functioning, overloaded from too many details to process.

  Where was Cato? Why did Margo betray me and my secret? What did Felix know? And how could I move forward from this? How could I possibly pretend everything was okay?

  CHAPTER 23

  The next two days passed by in a blur. Felix walked me home from the Harvest Dinner, but he offered me no explanation for his behavior. And honestly, I was too broken from the weight of everyone’s emotions that night to press him on it. It didn’t matter, anyway. I wasn’t under the gun. Mr. Gadson was. And Cato.

  I received a note from Emmaline on Saturday inviting me to attend the trials with her. I was to meet her in front of the training center on Monday morning instead of attending class. As much as it would sting to see my brother tried and exiled for simply trying to find the truth, I had to see him one last time. Once he was removed from the city, there was little chance I’d ever see him again. But the trial was two days away. Which meant I had the remainder of the weekend to avoid my traitor friend, Margo.

  “Claren? I know you’re in there. Can we please talk? Just for a minute?”

  I laid across my bed, eyes fixed on the ceiling. When was Margo going to figure out that I didn’t want to speak to her? Trusting her before was a mistake. A mistake that I didn’t intend to make again.

  My bedroom door bumped gently as she leaned her weight against it, and her back made a soft whooshing sound as she slid to the floor. “Look, everyone else is downstairs getting a game started, so I’m just gonna talk.”

  I remained motionless and silent. There wasn’t anything she could say to redeem herself. She’d be wasting her breath. But that was her prerogative, I supposed.

  “Ms. Frasier stopped me after class one day after our break. She said she was concerned about you, and asked me to keep an eye on you. To make sure you were okay.”

  My teeth toyed with the inside of my lip, ready to bite down and suppress any tears that tried to work their way up.

  “I could see that something was off, too. Especially in the last week or so.” Margo’s voice cracked. “And I care about you, Claren.”

  I wanted to roll my eyes. Cover my head with a pillow to block out her words. But I believed her. Again. What was wrong with me?

  “When you told me about Cato, I was thrilled. That was genuine- please understand. I had no idea Ms. Frasier was going to get to me again.�
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  I rolled onto my side, facing the door. I wanted to speak and invite her in, but I wasn’t ready to talk things out.

  “She stopped me again a few days ago. She pulled me into her office after class. I told her we talked and that you were fine. I told her you were just concentrating on our lessons and looking forward to the Harvest Dinner. But then...” she leaned her head back against the door with a small thud.

  “I don’t know how to explain it. I’m not even sure what happened. She took my hands in hers and thanked me. Then she asked me a few more questions and it’s like I lost all control. I was blasting information like a fire hose. I don’t know why or how she did it, Claren. But by the time I realized what I had done it was too late.”

  A sob echoed from the other side of the door and I wanted to pull it open and give her a hug. Tell her I forgave her. But I didn’t move. Instead I listened to her cry for a few moments, and after she was gone I closed my eyes.

  Sometime later, I’m not sure how long, another rap on the door woke me.

  “Claren?” It was Edgar.

  “I hate to wake you, but Margo told us you weren’t feeling well. I hope you don’t mind, but I asked Frederick in the kitchen to make you some soup. It’s chicken noodle, like my mom always made us when we weren’t feeling well. I know you need your rest, so I’m just going to leave it here outside your door.” There was a pause, but he didn’t leave. “I hope you get to feeling better soon.”

  Thanks to Edgar’s occasional food deliveries, I was able to stay in my room all weekend, and no one even questioned my not attending class Monday morning. They all assumed I was sick. After I watched the last of my classmates enter the training center from my window, I ran downstairs to meet Emmaline in her black coupe parked around the corner from our house.

  “Good morning, Ms. Greenwood,” she said as I slid into the seat beside her. I grunted in response, slamming the door shut and fixing my gaze on the road in front of us. So maybe I was throwing a little bit of a temper tantrum, but it was a better response than what I really wanted to do.