Pearl's Number: The Number Series

by Bethany Atazadeh

  “Ever since Hofyn,” she pulled a paper out of her pocket, beginning to unfold it, “I’ve wanted to say thank you for your note…” she trailed off at the sight of the wrinkled paper and smeared, illegible words. “I swear this is the note you left behind with Luc! The lake water must’ve ruined it, but–”

  Jeremiah stopped where he stood in the middle of the road. Evie went a little further before she noticed and halted as well.

  Daring to hope, he took one step forward, closing the distance between them. “You kept it?” he repeated. He came to stand toe to toe with her, close enough to breathe the same air. “I meant every word, you know.” He was aware he was standing too close, but she didn’t back up, and neither did he.

  “You are valuable,” he repeated what he’d told her in that note six months ago. But that wasn’t quite what he wanted to say. “Especially to me.” Not quite right either. Words were failing him. He stopped trying, following his instincts and reaching out instead, pulling her closer to him, lowering his lips to hers.

  He barely touched her lips before pulling back, worried he’d gone too far. But when she half-opened her eyes, she smiled at him, biting her lip. “You should try that again,” she whispered.

  Jeremiah grinned, gently tugging her closer to him, wrapping his arms around her as he kissed her again, this time savoring the moment, taking his time, enjoying the way she leaned into him and kissed him back.

  Time slowed and when he finally pulled away, Evie sighed, eyes still closed a moment longer.

  Jeremiah barely registered the cheering in the background. Whooping and hollering reached them from a bus that had turned around and come back for them, probably wondering why they’d disappeared, just in time to catch their last kiss.

  The rest of the caravan rounded the bend after the first bus, all coming to a stop in the line up, waiting on Jeremiah and Evie, but Jeremiah didn’t pay them any attention. He watched Evie’s cheeks flush to match her lips, which made him want to kiss her all over again.

  So, he did.

  The Lakelanders broke out in enthusiastic cheers and cries for ‘More! More!’ as he pulled back. Sol and Olive cheered alongside them, clapping and laughing.

  Jeremiah just grinned and waved, while Evie’s blush grew even deeper. He held out his hand and she accepted. Even when they caught up to the buses, she let him keep it. He wove his fingers through hers, enjoying the feeling.

  Instead of climbing aboard, they walked right past the noisy Lakelanders, pretending not to notice, and the enormous vehicles turned around one by one, until they were once again a slow-moving procession. Jeremiah pulled Evie over to walk in the shadow of the last bus, right up next to it, out of sight from the roof and prying eyes. Their conversation wasn’t as private now, but at least they didn’t have a dozen eyes staring at them. He glanced up to double check and found both Peach and Olive leaning over the edge. They ducked back out of sight and he shook his head a little, laughing.

  “I guess I misread the Council ball a little bit,” he said finally, the first thing that came to mind. He could kick himself for not talking to her that day.

  “Just a little,” Evie teased.

  “I wish I’d said hi,” he added, watching her face, wanting to kiss her again.

  “Me too,” she whispered, growing serious for a moment.

  He squeezed her fingers and they walked in sweet silence for a few minutes, before he noticed she was limping slightly. Halting, he gestured to her feet, “What’s wrong?”

  “Oh, nothing.” She blushed again. He liked that he had that effect on her. She lifted her shoe and pointed to a hole forming in the toe. “I guess I should’ve gotten better shoes.”

  “Ah.” Jeremiah frowned. “Let’s take a break from walking.” He led her back to the ladder, letting go of her hand so she could climb. At the top, he immediately reached out again, unable to help himself, smiling as she wove her fingers through his.

  The Lakelanders whooped and hollered, as if they’d enjoyed a good show and wanted an encore. Weaving between them, Jeremiah led Evie to the back where Olive and Sol sat, grinning at them as they sat down.

  Olive stared at their hands, looking like she might explode in excitement, while Sol gave Jeremiah a slight nod and subtle smile. Olive only lasted a few more seconds before she blurted, “I told you so!” Evie laughed, ducking her head in embarassment.

  Glancing over at Evie, Jeremiah waited until she met his gaze before he wiggled his brows and deadpanned, “You didn’t listen to advice from Olive? Don’t you know she’s as ‘wisdomous’ as they come?”

  They laughed and settled in for the next few hours of driving, while the Lakelanders hastled them, bringing it up again every so often, just when they seemed to have forgotten, pointing out Jeremiah and Evie’s hands still clasped together, the stars in their eyes, even once asking them to kiss again, right then and there. Evie blushed every time. Jeremiah just grinned.

  ***

  At the campfire that night, as it grew late and everyone else went to bed, Jeremiah and Evie remained in their chairs, scooching so close together that the armrests of their chairs overlapped. They watched the fire flicker, and Jeremiah played with Evie’s fingers, enjoying the moment.

  “Remember the last time we stayed up late at a bonfire?” he asked her.

  “Mmmhmm,” she smiled at the memory.

  “You helped me figure out an important decision.” He’d been at a crossroads—a small part of him had considered abandoning the revolution—when she’d reminded him who was really in control. Evie let her hair fall forward, hiding her face, but he caught a shy smile as she did, which encouraged him to add, “All I really wanted to do was stay behind and get to know this amazing girl I’d met…”

  “Really?” she bit her lip.

  He leaned closer, but paused before his lips touched hers, just long enough to whisper, “Really.”

  By the time the fire began to die down in the early hours of the morning, they could hardly keep their eyes open. They curled up on the sleeping mat next to Sol and Olive. Jeremiah didn’t want to let her go. He reached out and tentatively rested his arm on her shoulder. Evie immediately covered it with her palm.

  It was the exact same way they’d fallen asleep in the desert just two nights before, yet in a hundred ways completely different.

  21

  The Radicals

  SWEAT DRIPPED INTO HER eyes, but she blinked it away as she nodded to her comrade. “I’ll get the prisoners.”

  His chin jutted up in agreement, and he turned back to train his weapon on the Slavers. This Slaver contingent was headed to Archland, but her little group of radicals had attacked at dawn. They had only a dozen on their team, counting her, against three times as many in the Slaver convoy. But the element of surprise was their friend.

  Crossing quickly to the vehicle, she jumped inside, taking a moment to let her eyes adjust to the dark interior. The windows were muted, but there was enough light to make out three people in the cage inside: a man and two women.

  Fists clenching in anger, she fought the fury that always came when she saw a captive, focusing her gaze on the cage. As she stepped closer, the people cooped up inside flinched back, huddling together against the far wall.

  “It’s okay,” she told them as she worked, pulling out her tools, “I’m here to rescue you.” They wouldn’t believe her right away, but her group would get them to safety, and that’s what mattered. Understanding was for another time.

  Ignoring the key hole, she didn’t bother to try and pick the lock. She set to work on the hinges instead. The simplest solution. All it took was a little grease from her tool kit and a wrench, and the bolts came free. Without the bolts holding the hinges together, the cage door swung wide open, from the opposite side.

  The prisoners within gaped at her. “C’mon,” she said, waving a hand, as she turned to leave. She didn’t have time to coddle them. They were in a hostile situation. “Let’s get you out of here.”
>
  Fortunately, the prisoners recognized a rescue when they saw one. They followed on her tail as she led them out of the large vehicle, away from the Slaver convoy, to her little group’s own vehicle a dozen feet away. “Get in,” she told the helpless former-captives. They climbed one by one into the massive jeep, into the already crowded seats. Half her team had already packed into this jeep, filling all but the back row, and one stood in the open trunk prepared to help.

  “Some of you will need to stand,” the driver said to the freed-captives as they paused on the jeep’s ledge, uncertain, staring at the full seats. They startled as if they hadn’t seen him until that moment. His beard and long hair gave him a reckless, wild look, and the newcomers obeyed, scurrying around to the open trunk and climbing up into the back to stand and hold onto the frame.

  As the prisoners settled in, their rescuer jumped up on the jeep’s ledge next to the driver’s door, leaning in through the window to give the man a quick kiss on the lips, before hopping back down. “I’ll see you at the rendezvous,” she said to him, smiling at their victory.

  “You got it, babe,” he said back with a grin, as the engine roared to life and he put the jeep into gear. She didn’t wait to watch him pull away. It was time for her half of the crew to get into the second jeep and make a quick exit.

  “Let’s go!” she shouted to the men and women riding with her. They knew what to do. Back away slowly, guns up, trained on the Slavers, and on the count of three, everyone would jump in and she would take off at top speed. They’d gotten it down to a science.

  She hurried to the driver’s door, pulling it open, and plopping down in the front seat of the open jeep to wait. The engine was still running. Slowly her group backed away, and she watched through the open window with her hands on the wheel.

  One of the Slavers coughed and it drew her attention. His smirk made her frown. Before she could call out to hurry up, she saw it. From behind one of the Slaver vehicles, half a dozen of them. Creeping toward her guys. They wouldn’t see it coming.

  She screamed at them, “RUN—”

  But it was too late.

  Shots rang out, blindsiding every one of them. Their blood splattered the ground as they fell. She cried out in horror, drawing the Slaver’s attention. The bullets peppered across the sand all around her. She ducked as they hit the jeep. The noise was so deafening, she didn’t realize she was screaming until they paused.

  Without looking up, she threw the jeep into drive and stomped on the gas. It roared to life and took off across the desert. She didn’t dare look up as the bullets continued flying overhead, thunking heavily into the back of the jeep. She prayed they wouldn’t hit anything major.

  The Slavers kept firing, but the bullets stopped hitting the vehicle, and she risked peeking up over the dashboard, just enough to make sure she didn’t hit anything. But of course, there were only sand dunes for miles in every direction. She sat a little taller and slowed.

  Behind her the Slavers grew smaller, shaking their fists at her. And past them, so far in the distance they looked like ants, was the living remainder of her group in the other jeep. They’d no doubt stopped driving at the sound of shooting, but were moving again now that they saw her getaway.

  Braking, she stopped the jeep altogether, to give her crew a head start. The Slavers needed to chase her, not the innocent victims they’d just rescued. She would wait until they pursued, and then lead them on a wild-goose-chase.

  As the Slavers piled into their own vehicles and launched themselves in her direction, she threw the jeep into gear and took off toward a nearby town she’d passed earlier that morning. She knew exactly what to do.

  The rules if they ever ran into trouble were simple. Scatter. Meet up at the rendezvous when it was safe. That’s exactly what she would do. Just as soon as she got these bio-freaks off her tail.

  She swerved into the small town, dust streaking behind her, leaving a trail in her wake. A couple side-roads in and she slowed in an effort to not kick up as much dust. She parked the jeep behind a larger home, where some palm trees provided partial cover. Ditching the vehicle altogether, she ran just a block farther and ducked behind a gas station, where no one could see her. There were multiple coolers lining the back wall. All it took was one tool from her belt: her hammer.

  Once the lock broke off, she reached around behind the cooler to unplug it. She took another precious minute to pound the lock on the cooler next to hers until it broke as well, allowing her to transfer the ice bags from the first container to the second. She planned to be here a few hours; might as well not suffer lying in melting ice cubes while she hid.

  Tossing the broken locks into the bushes, she surveyed her work until satisfied she’d hidden all evidence, before climbing into the unplugged cooler and pulling the lid down over her. She had a flashlight on her tool belt as well, but she didn’t bother to pull it out. She didn’t need it. Leaning back, she took a deep breath and blew it out in relief. The container was tall enough that the lid just brushed her head, and long enough to stretch out her legs halfway before her feet hit the other side.

  The empty ice box felt blessedly cool on her hot skin. Even though she’d turned it off, the still-icy sides chilled her until her sweat evaporated and she shivered slightly. But it would warm up soon enough.

  She settled in for a nap. No telling how long the Slavers might search for her; she would stay right here until dark.

  At least, that was the plan.

  When the lid popped open and bright sunlight shone in suddenly, blinding her, she desperately hoped her group had decided to come back for her.

  But no such luck.

  As her eyes adjusted and she blinked a few more times, she found one of the Slavers sneering down at her. Her stomach dropped.

  Before she had time to react, they zapped her. Muscles spasming in pain, she lost all control of her body and could only watch helplessly as they dragged her out of the cooler into sunlight holding her up in front of the whole Slaver crew. Their leader stepped forward, lifting the butt of his gun to smack against her skull. The sharp pain lasted only a moment before everything went dark.

  22

  Evalene

  SOMETIME IN THE MIDDLE of the night, an urgent need to pee woke Evalene. Remembering the instructions, she scurried between two of the buses out into the darkness. Thankfully, the moon and stars shone brightly. There was just enough light to avoid tripping over tree roots. Sighing in relief when she was done, she meandered back to camp.

  Now that she was awake, she took her time, reveling in the flood of feelings coming back to her. Jeremiah’s lips on hers. Holding his hand. The way his thumb stroked her wrist idly when he was happy. She leaned against the sloping side of a bus, staying in the darkness outside the circle, and sighed. She was too happy to go back to sleep.

  Something moved in the bus behind her and startled her out of her daydreams. A rattling like metal on metal followed by a shuffling of… footsteps? Was there an animal inside? Or one of the Lakelanders? Evalene stepped back to stare up at it in the moonlight. None of the buses had windows until the top, a good four or five feet above her head, and she wasn’t tall enough to see into it.

  The hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she stood there staring up at it in the dark. Uneasy, she stepped back around the bus into the circle of the camp. In the light of the dying fire, shadows played across Jeremiah’s sleeping face as she laid back down on the mat between him and Olive. Part of her went back to replay their earlier conversation for the millionth time. But another part of her still felt oddly unsettled.

  Pulling the blankets up to her chin, she cocooned herself in their warmth, trying not to worry about it. Her eyes fell mostly shut, but traced their way lazily around the circle of sleeping people, trying to pinpoint what was causing her anxiety. As far as she could tell, everyone was sound asleep on their mats, cozy and quiet.

  Frowning, she brought the blanket up to her mouth to quiet her breathing, closing h
er eyes to mere slits, studying the darkness past Jeremiah’s sleeping form. Something began to take shape. The hair on her neck stood straight up. All at once she saw the silhouette emerge with a movement. The person’s form stood out against the dark night sky now that her eyes had found him. He wore dark clothes to blend into the night, and the gloom made it impossible to distinguish his face in the shadows, but the pale skin of his wrist was lit up by the campfire just enough for Evalene to glimpse the tattoo of three arrows. He was a Lakelander. She was about to relax, when the fire hissed and grew brighter for a brief moment, lighting up his face just enough for her to see him blink, and realize he was staring directly at her. She flinched, pulling the blanket closer to her chest.

  When the watching eyes saw her reaction, they blinked again and turned away, slowly touching on the other sleeping forms and stepping back deeper into the shadows out of sight, as if simply standing watch over the camp. But Evalene knew better. Until she’d given herself away, those eyes had never strayed from her little group. Not once. This was no smiling face like those worn earlier. And it definitely didn’t feel like one of their games.

  The adrenaline racing through Evalene’s body made her heart pound twice as fast as it should. There was no way she could sleep now. She had to warn the others. But if she nudged them awake, they might make noise or move, and alert the watching eyes that something was wrong. She couldn’t risk it, which meant she’d have to wait until morning.

  Evalene knew logically that if the Lakelanders hadn’t made any moves yet, her little group should be safe, at least until the morning. She should sleep while she could. She needed her rest. But she was wide awake.

  The night dragged on, and the stars danced across the sky, until finally, with dawn less than an hour away, Evalene drifted off into an exhausted sleep.

  Waking to the sounds of the camp stirring, soft voices speaking to each other nearby, and the smell of something cooking in the air, everything from the night before came back to Evalene in a rush, making her sit bolt upright. Her sleeping mat was empty on both sides. The others had risen before her and left her to sleep. She scanned the camp until she found them, seated around the fire once more, scarfing down plates of what looked like eggs and a strange meat. The Lakelanders sat on both sides of them, all smiles. Evalene groaned. How could she tell them what she’d seen if she couldn’t speak to them alone?