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

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From the Dust: A Dystopian Novel (Ember Society Book 1) Page 17

by AR Colbert


  I wanted to let Emmaline have it. She tried to trick me into giving her information about Cato—information she said she didn’t care about. And when I didn’t give it to her she turned my best friend in the training program against me. Now I’d lost my entire family, Margo, and any chance of a future as a Peacemaker. I wouldn’t even be useful to Frank anymore. If I hadn’t needed Emmaline to get into the Center to see Cato one last time, I’d have socked her in the nose.

  “Nice to see you, too,” she said, shifting the car into drive.

  I crossed my arms in front of my chest, staring blankly ahead. But it was easy to ignore her once the gates to the Center came into view. They stood ten feet tall, like the walls that surrounded the Center of Classen City, but they were made of wrought iron instead of the smooth concrete of the walls. Two guards stood at the gates. They looked like typical Protectors, but their uniforms were navy blue instead of black. Inside I could see several more standing and talking outside of what I assumed was a guards station.

  This was farther than I’d ever been, and I couldn’t help but feel a flutter of excitement at the unknown. I just wished I could have been there for any reason other than the truth. Anything other than witnessing the courts exile my brother.

  Inside, the Center looked much the same as Noble borough. It was cleaner and a bit nicer than where I grew up, but the buildings and homes weren’t special to look at. They were just better protected. I knew that of course, because I’d seen them on television. But it still felt a bit surreal to see everything in person.

  Emmaline parked her car near an enormous white building, with four wide columns standing tall to support the roof at the front entrance. Several stories above us stood a huge gold dome at the top of the building. It was the city hall, and inside among the administrative offices I knew Cato was tucked away inside a holding cell, waiting to face his judgment.

  We walked up the concrete stairs and entered a set of ornate wooden doors that towered over us. Inside was a vast open space, intricate and opulent from an era before ours. It was breathtaking. But I wasn’t there to admire the scenery. I followed Emmaline through halls scattered with sharply dressed men and women to another set of double doors. Inside was a small courtroom.

  Though the space wasn’t large, it was packed full of people. Several of the faces held some familiarity. Most were Leaders—some of whom I’d seen on television and some of whom I’d met at the Harvest Dinner just a few nights before. I continued to follow Emmaline through the crowds toward the front of the room, where a bench sat with a “Reserved” sign blocking the entrance. She moved the sign and we slid into place, staring ahead at a wooden booth where the judge—an advanced Peacemaker—would soon join us.

  I took a moment to survey the room from my spot at the front. Many, if not most, of the attendees were there for Mr. Gadson. But I almost gasped when I spotted Dax sitting midway back with his father, a Protector. Dax met my eyes with a scowl. Of course he thought I was responsible for all of this. And I suppose in a way I was. My head dropped in shame, where I held it until the doors near the front of the room clicked open.

  Cato walked in first, his arms secured behind his back. He was followed closely by two Protectors. Mr. Gadson followed in the same manner. I sat a little taller, hoping to catch Cato’s attention.

  He looked around curiously. He didn’t seem upset, just thoughtful. And when his eyes met mine everything shifted. His face brightened, and I almost saw a hint of his signature smile. I returned it with a smile of my own. Tears would do nothing to help him. His fate was already decided. I just wanted him to know that I loved him, and hopefully help him feel encouraged and prepared to face whatever lay ahead.

  Mr. Gadson, on the other hand, looked devastated. His wife sat on the bench opposite mine with their children, crying silently into a handkerchief. The Gadson children were both in their early teens, maybe thirteen or fourteen, and sat hopeful on the edge of their seats watching their father take his place at a table in front of them.

  Everyone stood again as the judge’s chamber doors opened. A middle-aged woman in a black robe strolled in. She was attractive, despite her harsh eyebrows and firm set pout. She exuded confidence. Too much confidence. Her particular flavor of arrogance was almost familiar.

  “All rise for Chief Justice Martha Hines,” said a clerk near the front of the courtroom.

  Of course. Not only was Cato being tried by the highest ranking Peacemaker in Classen City, he was being tried by Georgia’s mom.

  Not that any kind of a real trial was going to happen. History proved that juries and trials of the past were expensive, lengthy, and often wrong. True justice in New America was served by a single Peacemaker, who would read the facts of a criminal situation and make a decision before she ever met the criminals in question. The trial was more of a formality, and a chance for the public to view the decision.

  Justice Hines motioned for us all to take our seats, but she remained standing.

  “Good morning everyone. Today we are examining accusations against Cato Greenwood and Phil Gadson. Let’s begin with Mr. Greenwood.”

  She shuffled some papers on her desk until she found what she was looking for.

  “Cato Greenwood of Morton borough, you have been charged with theft and evasion of the law. I find you guilty on both counts, and hereby order your exile from Classen City. You shall be removed first thing tomorrow morning.”

  Her swiftness startled me. I suppose there wasn’t much need for small talk, but she didn’t even read any of the facts that were presented. She never even looked at him. He was brushed off like a piece of lint on her robe.

  Instead, she shuffled through her papers again, pulling out a different sheet and resting her gaze on Mr. Gadson. There was a sadness in her eyes, though she did an excellent job of otherwise masking any and all emotion. “Phillip Gadson, Treasurer of Classen City, you have been charged with harboring a criminal. On this count, I find you innocent.”

  Murmurs filled the courtroom. Mrs. Gadson dropped her handkerchief in her lap, her hand frozen in place and her mouth gaping open. I felt as shocked as she looked. This wasn’t fair!

  At the front of the room, Justice Hines grew angry about the increasing noise in the crowd. She slammed a gavel and looked sternly at us all.

  “Quiet! Please. Can we get some decorum?” She paused until the room was silent again. “As I was saying, I find you innocent on the count of harboring a criminal, because Cato Greenwood is more than a criminal. He is an enemy of the state, thought to be working against Classen City and The Greater Good. I believe you were aware of his actions. Therefore, I am adding an additional charge. Phil Gadson, I find you guilty of treason.”

  There was a collective gasp in the room. Mrs. Gadson crumpled into a heap on the bench, sobbing uncontrollably. Her son tried to calm her but it was no use. I couldn’t blame her. We all knew what happened next. There was no crime greater than a crime against the state. Treason was the definition of working against The Greater Good. Mr. Gadson would pay for this with his life.

  “The execution shall take place this Friday at noon.” She slammed her gavel again. “Thank you. Court is dismissed.”

  “Wait!” Phil Gadson’s daughter, the younger of the two children, shouted at Justice Hines. “If Cato is an enemy of the state, then he should be executed, too!”

  There was venom in her voice and her eyes looked as though they were on fire. Her mother was drowning in tears beside her, and this girl wanted revenge.

  Justice Hines faced her, her mouth set in a grim line. Paired with her naturally dark, sloping brows, the look was terrifying. She didn’t have to answer of course, but she did.

  “Mr. Greenwood was not charged with treason. He was charged with theft and sentenced accordingly.”

  The words were simple, but the tone was deadly. My heart nearly stopped in my chest. Cato sat frozen in his seat, unmoving under the justice’s glare. She was making no effort to hide her feelings any longer
. Justice Hines wanted my brother dead, and her malice chilled my blood. Others shifted uncomfortably in the room, as well. We all felt it, even the non-Empaths.

  So why did she exile Cato yet order Phil Gadson’s death? Was she setting an example? I doubted any other Leaders would be so quick to aid the Outsiders after this. But keeping Cato alive made no sense. There must have been something else at play.

  CHAPTER 24

  The events from the courtroom played over and over in my mind on the way back to the house. I couldn’t believe Phil Gadson was going to die for protecting my brother.

  Emmaline spoke after a few minutes of driving. “You’re more upset than I expected.”

  I turned and looked at her as though she had two heads. “What did you expect? Am I supposed to be happy? You told me you weren’t interested in Cato right now, but he’s being sent away forever. You said you wanted to know who was giving the orders from the Outside, yet you got one of your own Leaders sentenced to death. Tell me, what is there to not be upset about? It’s all horrible!”

  There was no use trying to hide my emotions. Emmaline knew I was angry. She knew I was hurt. And she knew I lied. She was able to get information from Margo that I never offered to her. There would be no redeeming myself after this.

  “Your brother’s life was spared. Isn’t that something to be grateful for?”

  “He may be spared for now, but he’ll never make it Outside. You know that.”

  Emmaline raised an eyebrow and returned her eyes to the road ahead.

  “Would you like to ride along in the cortege tomorrow morning?”

  I cocked my head to the side, studying her for a moment. It felt like a trap. But yes—I did want to see my brother off.

  “Is that possible?”

  “Of course.” Emmaline delivered a small, polite smile and didn’t mention it or anything else again until she pulled up in front of the house.

  “I’ll have an officer pick you up here first thing in the morning. And as for the rest of today, feel free to stay home and relax. I’ll let Mr. Saxon know your absence is excused.”

  I sat for a beat, trying to decide whether or not to question her. I decided against it. If she was willing to allow me to stay in the program, I wouldn’t be the one to advise her differently. After seeing what happened to those who join forces with the Outside today, becoming a Peacemaker was sounding better and better.

  “Actually, Ms. Frasier, I think I might head back to the training center after lunch if that’s okay.”

  Her smile widened. “Yes, that will be fine.”

  My stomach lurched as I climbed out of the car. Why did I always feel like I was making a deal with the devil when Emmaline left our meetings with a smile?

  I sat with the rest of my roommates at breakfast the next morning, listening to their gossip from school and generally trying to blend into the background. My seat was nearest the front door, with Nita beside me so I wouldn’t feel the need to make small talk with Margo. I still wasn’t sure where we stood, or rather, where I wanted us to stand.

  Finally, I heard the knock I’d been waiting for. Everyone knew by then that my brother was exiled. Georgia’s big mouth could hardly contain that juicy little secret. So there was no more sneaking around or pretending I was doing anything different than going to see him off.

  “That’s my ride.” I hopped up, a little too eager to get out of there.

  “Be strong,” Margo called out as I walked to the door.

  It was a bold thing for her to say. The others were offering support too, but in more of a we’re so proud of you for doing what’s right kind of way. They believed Cato’s punishment was for The Greater Good. And that’s the appearance I tried to give as well.

  But Margo knew my pain. I could ice it over as much as possible, but she knew.

  “Hello Claren, long time no see.” I opened the door to find myself standing in the shadow of a very large man. A large man who I would’ve been happy to never see again.

  “Hello, Officer Patton. Will you be driving me in the cortege today?”

  He scratched his unruly orange beard with a giant finger and looked around before coughing out a gruff laugh. “I don’t see anyone else around here. Do you?”

  Hopefully he didn’t see my nose scrunch up in disgust. “Guess not,” I said, trying to fake a smile.

  “Then let’s be on our way.”

  Patton drove a standard-issue Protector’s vehicle. It was larger and far less comfortable than the coupe I’d become accustomed to riding in with Emmaline. My seat was stained from multiple coffee spills—at least I hoped they were coffee spills, and a few crumpled napkins were shoved between it and the center console.

  We drove to the Center Gates but didn’t enter. Instead, Officer Patton tried to make small talk until the boxy black van carrying my brother pulled out into the city. I strained to catch a glimpse of him in the back, but the windows were too tinted. Maybe he saw me, at least. I hated to think of him feeling alone.

  There wasn’t a long line of vehicles. It was just a Protector in the front, Cato’s van, Emmaline’s coupe, and Officer Patton and me bringing up the rear. Small as the cortege was, it was usually just the van and two Protectors when citizens were exiled. Emmaline’s interest in my brother’s situation was getting a bit ridiculous.

  We drove slowly through the city’s streets, allowing anyone who dared to pause from their work to see justice in action. Typically the streets were empty except for a few friends and family members in the criminal’s home borough.

  When my dad was exiled, it was just Cato and me, standing on the windy sidewalk as his van passed us by. I couldn’t see his face, but his hand pressed against the window as the vehicles crawled past us. I still think of it on cold, windy days—the pale skin of his palm in contrast to the tinted window of that black van on the empty streets.

  So it surprised me to see people watching us weave through the different boroughs. There weren’t many at first, just a man here, a couple there. But the closer we got to the edge, the more we saw. By the time we reached Morton borough they were lining the streets.

  I spotted Sela and a couple of other girls I attended school with. Edgar’s mom and sister stood near the bakery in the business district, and Dax wasn’t far from them. We drove on, slower as the crowds grew thicker. It was astonishing, really. I recognized many of the faces, but there were even more I didn’t know. And as we passed, many of the people would raise a hand to their hearts.

  “Idiots.” Officer Patton grumbled in the seat beside me. “They better get out of the way or they’ll get run over— the whole lot of ‘em. And don’t say I won’t do it.” He cut his beady little eyes over to me like he was daring me to say something.

  But I couldn’t say a word. I was enchanted by the crowd. Whether it was the gesture, or their expressions, or just the overall emotion surrounding me, I don’t know. But my eyes were wet, tears flowing freely at the show of support for my brother.

  Maybe the Outsiders had it all wrong. These people were grieving over the loss of one of their own. Cato didn’t deserve to be lost. He was a good person who had clearly made an impact on many more lives than I ever realized.

  Was life in New America really so bad that we needed to sacrifice the ones we loved? We were mostly happy and healthy and well cared for. We had food to eat and shelter and jobs that suited our unique skills. Who cared if they drank wine and carried expensive purses in the Center? It wasn’t worth losing lives over.

  The cars were barely rolling forward as we reached the very edge of the city, near the sanitation headquarters. I spotted Lena, who I’d met with Raf a few weeks before, but I didn’t see him. Not at first, anyway. My mind wasn’t able to register the handsome man with a gorgeous brunette woman on his arm as my Raf.

  His expression was serious as he watched Cato’s van pass him by. The woman on his arm buried her face into his shoulder, seeking his comfort. What a selfish girl. She should be comforting him! He wa
s watching his best friend leave forever. And who was she—this stranger who acted as though she cared about my brother?

  And who was I to even care? Raf wasn’t mine. He never was mine. He only helped me for Cato’s sake. And now that Cato was leaving, Raf would be gone too, playing house with some beautiful brunette.

  Our motorcade reached the edge of the city limits, and the leading Protector veered off to the right as the van continued forward. I’d cried out my last tears, and now I sat empty, watching the red taillights carry away the last person I loved on this earth. The van would drive for a few more hours, into some remote land hundreds of miles away from Classen City. If Cato was able to survive, there would be no way for him to find his way back. And even if he did, by some miracle, make it back home, he’d be sentenced to death if he was caught. Cato was now an enemy of the state, just like my dad.

  What happened? When did everything go so wrong?

  I tried to steady my shaking hands as I watched the van drive away. I had to think. I had to process everything. Maybe if I could just figure out where everything got off track I could prevent this stuff from happening again—prevent the devastation of losing anyone else I loved, if I was ever able to love again. It certainly seemed as though my love was a mark of destruction.

  The Outsiders killed my mom, which caused my dad to lose control. Dad became reckless, tried to jump the Center walls, and got exiled. Cato also became reckless, got involved with the Outsiders, and followed in dad’s footsteps.

  There was one common denominator in all of it. The Outsiders. Frank seemed like a good guy, but he wasn’t careful with the lives of those who were trying to help him. Sam died. Phil was sentenced to death. Cato was exiled. Who was next? Dax? Raf? Me?

  Maybe Emmaline was right all along. Maybe it was time to put an end to Frank’s lethal shenanigans.

 

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