Pearl's Number: The Number Series

by Bethany Atazadeh

  They wouldn’t even begin to wonder if something had happened to her until tomorrow morning. At the earliest.

  She peered up at the darkened cell windows. How long had she slept anyway? Was it still the same day or was she looking at said morning?

  Frustrated, she shook her head, but that only caused shooting pains and the ache in her head intensified.

  A few hours later the vehicle stopped for what was likely the midday meal, but none was brought to her. By nightfall, she was thirsty and starving. Still no one came.

  The following morning, the same man who’d found her in the cooler entered the vehicle, turning on the overhead light, which left her once more blinking and at a disadvantage.

  His familiar sneer was all she needed to know she wasn’t getting a feast anytime soon. When he handed her a cup of water through the bars of the cage she guzzled it down greedily. But when he handed through stale back ends of a loaf of bread, she wasted no time knocking his arm against the metal bars. The bread fell to the floor as she struggled against him, using the bars as leverage.

  A fist came at her face, and she didn’t see it in time to duck. The punch hit her squarely in the jaw. Pain exploded across her face and without meaning to, she let go of the man’s arm, losing her opportunity. Holding a hand to her cheek, tears of pain streamed out of her eyes, out of her control, as she glared at him. He scowled right back; the sneer wiped off his face now.

  “Turns out you’re on a diet, slave,” he growled. “Of nothing.”

  “My name is Pearl!” she screamed at his back. “You don’t own me!”

  But he was already gone.

  She sagged, dropping to the floor. Picking up the stale bread, she wondered if she should ration it. Wondered if she’d be rescued soon or if she’d just designed an extremely hungry couple of weeks—because two weeks was the longest she figured she would have. Maybe only one. Slaver caravans traveled slowly, always searching for more prey, but they couldn’t be more than two weeks’ drive from the Archland border.

  And if no one rescued her in the next week or two, she’d have bigger things to worry about than hunger pains.

  25

  Evalene

  A SCRAPING LIKE METAL against metal sounded in the darkness. Evalene almost ducked back outside, thinking it was one of the Lakelanders. But no one spoke and something made her stay. She tiptoed closer.

  As she reached the middle of the bus, her eyes gradually adjusted and the images she couldn’t quite make out came together with the realization that she was staring at the bars of a cage. The metal rods near the back of the room crossed from ceiling to floor with a slight change in the middle that Evalene took to be a door.

  Movement behind the bars made her flinch back on instinct. But it didn’t speak. Didn’t yell for the watchman or anyone else. Maybe it was an animal? She inched closer, curiosity winning out. The form unfolded from the floor, moving to stand up and face her.

  She gasped.

  It wasn’t an animal.

  It was a man!

  “Who’s there?” the man said after a moment from the gloomy depths of the cage. Mouth hanging open, Evalene gaped at him. In the dim lighting, all she could make out was that he had a full beard and his clothes looked like rags. When she didn’t respond, he spoke again, softly, a statement. “You’re not one of them.”

  Mutely, Evalene shook her head, then realized he probably couldn’t see it. “No. Are you?” she whispered. Maybe he’d done something wrong to deserve a cell? Was he a criminal? But he sounded different than the Lakelanders. His words didn’t roll together like she’d grown used to hearing, and he enunciated in a way she hadn’t heard yet in the Divided States.

  He stepped closer into a patch of moonlight, revealing a faded scar across one eye and down his cheek. That and his long, tangled hair made him look dangerous. But he had kind eyes. He looked older than her, closer to her father’s age. Then again, maybe that was because of his thick beard.

  “No,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I was trying to find someone when the slavers caught me.” Yes, his accent was definitely different. Sharper. But that didn’t mean much. Maybe he was from a territory like the Riders.

  Evalene studied him, not sure what to think. “Did you say… slavers?” The word tasted sour on her tongue. When he nodded, a shiver raced down her spine. “Why do you call them that?”

  “Because they’re taking us to tech territory to be sold as slaves.”

  Could it be true? She’d sensed something was off with these people, but this was a hundred times worse than what she’d expected to find. “Tech territory?” she asked.

  “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked.

  “No.”

  “Archland,” he clarified. “They’re taking us to Archland, where the techs live. Where they first created BioGrading.” He gripped the bars with those big hands. It occurred to Evalene that she’d been standing close enough he could have grabbed her at any time, but he hadn’t. Did that make him trustworthy? She’d made so many bad decisions she no longer knew.

  “How do you know?” she asked finally, easing back a step. She needed proof.

  “Easy,” the man said. He pulled up his ragged sleeve. “You can recognize a slaver by the tattoo of three arrows on their left wrist.” He pointed to the bare skin on his arm where the tattoo would be.

  Evalene’s own skin pebbled with goosebumps as she pictured the design he described. Three arrows. On the wrist. She’d noticed it the moment they’d met the crew. She’d assumed it meant something simple, benign. A sign of membership or belonging. In a way, she supposed, that’s exactly what it was.

  “Listen,” the prisoner interrupted her thoughts. His voice was urgent, and his forehead and scar wrinkled in concern. “You need to run. Do you understand?”

  If he was telling the truth, then they were in a far more desperate situation than she’d realized. And if he was lying, if he just wanted out of the cage… then why did his description of the Lakelanders ring true? Everything that had happened since being rescued flashed through Evalene’s mind. Skye asking where they were going, declaring they were going the same way. Not asking for any form of payment. Those eyes in the night. Watching them. Watching their investment.

  Evalene swallowed, hard. He was telling the truth.

  “It’s not just me,” she whispered to the stranger. “I have three friends with me.”

  “They need to run too. Once we’re sold, there’s no escape.”

  Fear closed Evalene’s throat so she couldn’t swallow. She stared at his wrist where he held the bars. Tattoo free. “What about you?”

  His hands dropped from the bars as if too tired to keep them there. “Do you see that hook on the far wall?” he asked. Evalene peered over her shoulder and nodded. “If you can give me the key ring off that hook, I’ll try each key until I get this door open.”

  Evalene stole over to the wall and found them where he’d said. There were twenty different keys on the circle. “I’ll help,” she told him. Jeremiah would be circling back soon. She couldn’t leave this man here.

  He didn’t protest. He didn’t say anything at all for a moment, but then he choked out, “Thank you.”

  Evalene only nodded, bending down to find the keyhole. She’d been in his shoes once before, less than a year ago, trapped and alone. Now she had a chance to do what Jeremiah had done for her.

  “I can help you,” the man offered after a moment. “Wherever you’re going, I’ll help you get there.”

  They could use a guide—if they could trust him. Evalene shook off that last thought. That was a problem for the future. For now, all she said in response was, “Thank you. My name’s Evie, what’s yours?”

  “Noble.” He stood waiting as she tested the second key, and then the third. The sixth key turned further in the lock and they heard the padlock spring free. Noble reached out to swing the door open and Evalene stepped out of the way.

  Without the bars betwe
en them, Evalene tensed. Was she wrong to have trusted him? It wouldn’t be the first time. But he stopped in the middle of the room and whispered, “We need food and water.”

  Evalene agreed immediately. “The kitchen is this way,” she whispered back, leading him toward the exit. Noble followed her down the ladder. They made quick work of it, slipping into the kitchen bus, grabbing a sack, stuffing bread and water bottles into it hurriedly. The man scarfed down a small loaf of bread as they did, as if they hadn’t fed him in days. Maybe they hadn’t. By now, Jeremiah was likely done searching his half of the circle and wondering where Evalene was.

  They popped out of the kitchen bus, climbing back down to the ground. Jeremiah crept toward them in the dark. He froze when he saw the man with Evalene. But she waved him forward.

  “This is our proof,” Evalene whispered as he drew close, gesturing to the poor man who looked to be in even worse condition under the moonlight, as if he’d been beaten and starved. “Noble, meet Jeremiah. My… friend.” She stumbled over what to call Jeremiah. This definitely wasn’t the time to ask.

  As she explained what Noble had told her, Jeremiah’s eyes flickered in recognition at the tattoos. “He can help us get away,” Evalene finished. “If you’re still offering?” she added, glancing over at the big man, who nodded.

  “I owe you for helping me,” Noble said simply. “I’ll make sure you get wherever you need to go.”

  “Do you trust him?” Jeremiah asked her right there in front of Noble. She paused. She’d been hoping he would be the one to tell her.

  But her gut said yes, so she nodded slowly and said, “I do.”

  “Okay.” Jeremiah nodded once in acceptance. “Then we need to wake Sol and Olive immediately.”

  “But what if someone’s watching?” Evalene asked. All of them stiffened at the thought. Of course there was someone watching.

  It was Noble who spoke first. “We’ll have to risk it. Get them and run, as fast as we can. There’s no other option.”

  “I’ll go,” Jeremiah said, mouth set in a firm line. “I’ll make it as quick as I can.” He rounded the bus and disappeared.

  The wait was agonizing. Neither Evalene or Noble spoke. But Evalene wrung her hands in anxiety as the seconds ticked by. Was Sol arguing? Was Olive asking a million questions? Was the watchman looking? Were they about to sound the alarm?

  Noble whispered, “I don’t know a lot about this crew, but I know the area pretty well. If we can get to the lake, I think we can make it.”

  Evalene nodded, only half-listening. She thought she might be about to lose her mind. Three figures appeared around the corner in the darkness. Relief flooded her and she sagged against the nearby bus.

  “What’s going on?” Olive whispered the moment she saw Noble.

  “We’ll explain as we go. We need to hurry,” Evalene told her. The watcher could already be alerting someone to the fact that all four of them had disappeared outside the circle. She turned to Noble, “Which way?”

  “Follow me.” He fell into a jog, leading them away from camp, toward a nearby lake, where the light of the moon shone a path across the large body of water. As they ran, Jeremiah and Evalene took turns filling Sol and Olive in on the situation between breaths. A grim look came over their faces as understanding dawned.

  They’d made it only a short distance before the worst happened.

  Floodlights flashed on, lighting up the darkness all around them. Evalene gasped. She tripped over an unseen branch or tree root as she looked back, barely catching herself.

  Every single one of the buses’ headlights had turned on and the machines were beginning to roll forward, heading in their direction. “No!” she cried out.

  “Come on! We’ve got to get in the water!” Noble yelled. The panic on his face was evident even under the dirt and the wild beard. “The trees will slow them down, there’s still a chance!” He took off ahead of them, and the others sprinted to follow. The lake wasn’t far.

  Noble slowed enough to run alongside them. “When we get to the lake, we’re going to swim across! Got it?”

  Olive, Sol, and Jeremiah agreed.

  Gasping, Evalene yelled back to him between breaths, “I don’t know how!” Despairing, she slowed to a jog. “Go without me! It’s my fault you’re here. I’ll run a different direction and distract them.”

  But both Jeremiah and Noble grabbed her arms to stop her, pulling her forward to keep running.

  “Not happening,” Jeremiah said. “No one gets left behind.”

  “I owe you a rescue,” Noble agreed from the other side, surprising her. “Don’t worry. There’s always driftwood by the lakes. We’ll find a piece big enough for you to float on. Keep going!”

  The buses were in hot pursuit. During the day, they’d moved barely faster than a human would walk, a slow jog at best, but now their engines roared and the machines picked up their pace dramatically, revealing their true speed. Even dodging trees and slowed by underbrush, they gained on the group quickly.

  When they reached the water, Sol and Olive threw themselves into it, running awkwardly until they were wading deeper, and then swimming.

  Jeremiah, Noble and Evalene searched the shore frantically in the dark for something large enough to keep her afloat. Heaving up a thick branch, a little longer than Evalene’s arm, and about a foot around, Noble called to them, “This will work. Let’s go!”

  They ran together into the water, and when it got too deep, Noble held out the wood for Evalene to lean on. It didn’t quite bear her weight. “Don’t lean on it fully,” Noble said, encouraging her to keep going. “Just put your arms and upper body on it. Kick with your legs.” Evalene tried as he directed her and found this was just enough to keep her above water. Her kicks felt like they weren’t making any headway, but Jeremiah and Noble each grabbed one side of the wood and began to pull as they swam, dragging her along with them.

  Glancing over her shoulder, Evalene wanted to cheer when she saw how far they’d already pulled away from the shore. “We made it,” she gasped as she kicked. “We’re safe!” Everyone looked back, expecting to see the buses stop at the edge of the waterline.

  But they didn’t.

  The vehicles pushed right into the water and instead of slowing down or submersing, they almost seemed to pick up speed!

  Understanding struck Evalene in that moment. The strangeness of the buses—how they were shaped like bullets, so round and smooth, like a boat on wheels…

  Because that’s exactly what they were.

  “No…” Noble muttered to himself, “I thought that was just a rumor!”

  As he slowed, Evalene felt herself sink slightly and she kicked harder. “We can still make it,” she choked out over the water slapping her face, “Maybe they won’t see us in the dark!” Everyone threw themselves into swimming faster, harder.

  But the Lakelanders—or rather—slavers, picked up speed until they were almost on top of the swimmers. Their bright spotlights shone down on the water, picking them out in the dark in mere seconds. “Go under,” Sol called to them, “We can hold our breath and lose them.” Evalene struggled to keep her head above water as she whipped her head around to look at Noble. Could they still make it? She doubted she could last long, but she sucked in a deep breath in preparation.

  But Noble shook his head no.

  She turned to Jeremiah, feeling herself start to sink as they stopped moving forward, slipping under. He shook his head at Sol, gripping Evalene’s arm tight and dragging her back up onto the driftwood.

  Skye’s voice called out over the engines and the waves, “Surrender now or we’ll drag you in.” When Evalene lifted her gaze to the top of the bus where Skye’s voice came from, she spied a dozen people standing on the edge, ready to swim at their leader’s command. Others held guns, trained on the group in the water. She understood then.

  Though the others tread water easily, even Jeremiah’s arm wasn’t enough to keep her head above water. She flailed, try
ing harder to stay afloat without success, swallowing a mouthful of the murky lake water. The driftwood dipped under the full weight of her panic, dunking her under again, and this time the water consumed her. Before Jeremiah and Noble both dragged her back to the surface, she accidentally inhaled some water. They struggled to hold her above the surface as she coughed, choking, struggling to catch her breath.

  There was no way they could escape. They had to admit defeat.

  With Jeremiah’s help, Evalene flung a hand out and grasped the slippery ladder built into the side of the bus-boat for dear life. Pulling herself out of the water with effort, she climbed toward the roof—another design that suddenly made so much more sense.

  At the top, she shakily climbed over the edge, still coughing up lake water. The Lakelanders aimed their weapons at her. She hadn’t even stepped down fully when Skye’s hand cracked across her face. The blow knocked her to her knees. “We treat you like guests of honor, and this is how you repay us?” Skye demanded.

  Evalene pulled herself up, thankful Jeremiah hadn’t seen her humiliation. It reminded her of her years as a low-Number back home. She struggled not to give in to old habits of submission, lifting her chin in defiance instead, staring Skye in the face as Olive appeared on the ladder, grudgingly stepping onto the roof. Jeremiah and Noble followed.

  Noble was clearly reluctant to surrender, though he raised his hands for the guns when he boarded like the rest of them. He was a strong swimmer. If not for them, he might have made it.

  But he seemed to recognize that was no longer an option. Silently, he let Skye berate him, not reacting.

  Where was Sol? The Lakelanders didn’t seem to notice one of them was missing yet. Sol’s quiet demeanor and the way he intentionally stuck to the background worked in his favor in this moment—unless he was drowning? Before Evalene could decide, she spotted him. On the opposite side of the boat, climbing up the ladder behind the Lakelanders.