black tiger (Black Tiger Series Book 1)

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black tiger (Black Tiger Series Book 1) Page 23

by Sara Baysinger


  I stare at him, absorbing everything he just said. And my defenses crumble a little. Because this is the Forest I’ve come to know. Forest, the honest. The compassionate. The leader with a heart of a servant. This is the man I feel infinitely, indescribably safe with. And for reasons I don’t understand, he’s concerned for me. And for the sake of my family, and everyone in the Community Garden, maybe I should listen to Forest. Maybe I should suck up to the chief. Maybe I should try a little harder to think less about me and more about…everyone else.

  “I’ll behave,” I say. And I mean it. “I’ll be patient.”

  A small smile forms on his beautiful lips, and a warm glow appears in his eyes.

  “You have no idea how relieved that makes me feel. To know that you’ll try to stay out of trouble. I do care about you, Ember. I—” He swallows, searches my eyes. “—I truly want you to be safe.”

  And the way he looks at me, like I’m the first star in the night sky, like I’m the first flower in spring, like I’m the sun and the moon and everything that is wonderful, I believe him. Forest Turner wants me safe. Forest Turner cares about me.

  I only wish he cared for me the same way I care for him.

  Rain steps into the alcove. “Hope I’m not ruining your little rendezvous, but um, the chief is looking for you, Forest.”

  Forest nods. Stands. Offers his hand and helps me to my feet. “Remember.” He squeezes my fingers between his. “Be good.”

  I nod and watch him step out of the alcove.

  “Whew.” Rain heaves out a sigh. “That was intense.”

  “You heard all that?”

  He lifts his hands in mock defense. “Hey, I heard nothing. It’s not really in me to collect gossip by eavesdropping, but the atmosphere…” He whistles. “I mean, I can feel the charged energy between you two. It’s almost suffocating.”

  I roll my eyes and step past him out of the alcove.

  “Hey, wait up.” He jogs up beside me, pulls his flask out of his back pocket and drinks deeply. I’m disgusted with how much he drinks. “You can’t leave me escortless.” He grins, a dimple forming in his left cheek and his eyes dancing, and he almost looks attractive. Too bad he drinks like a fish and flirts like a whore. His tiger prowls by his heels. With only three feet, Julius walks pretty well. The place where his leg used to be ends in a stump. You wouldn’t think he was the three-legged wonder.

  “We should head back to the picnic,” Rain says

  “I don't want to go back,” I whine.

  “No? What would you rather do?”

  “Go home.”

  “To the hotel? Really?”

  “No, Rain.” I don’t even try to hide the irritation from my voice. “I want to go back to the Community Garden. The orchard.”

  “Ah. I see. Well, that option’s off the table, no thanks to your warm welcome of Ky’s worst enemy last night.”

  “I didn’t help the Resurg—”

  “Spare your lies for Titus and his Defenders. I can see right through you, little apple picker. So let me ask you again, what do you want to do? Besides return to your precious little garden?”

  I stifle a groan. “What’s there to do in Frankfort?"

  “Oh, there is so, so much to do here. Like, too much for your bored little farmer-brain to even comprehend. Let’s see. There’s the Kentucky River close by with a ferry. Did you know Ky used to be known as Kentucky? Little known fact. Anyway. We have a theme park, with actual rides and stuff.”

  “Like, pony rides?”

  “Um…yes. But they also have a roller coaster and a Ferris wheel and—”

  “What’s a Ferris wheel—”

  “Never mind.” He flips his hand in the air. “I don’t really want to be seen riding with you in a Ferris wheel. People will think we’re official or something. What you might be interested in, though, is the library and historical sites.”

  “A library? Like, with actual books?”

  “That is what libraries are known to have.”

  Rain knows me so well.

  “Do you want to go there?” he asks.

  “Yes. Definitely.” I’ve always loved reading, but we only had like five books in our whole school. Books are a rare commodity around here. The thought of seeing a library thrills me.

  Rain hails a cab. We clamor into the car, and much to my disappointment, Rain shoves Julius in between me and him. And I tense, because the last time I was this close to a black tiger, it was shredding Judah to pieces, and I have to close my eyes against the terror, against the nightmare that still haunts me.

  Rain’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “So tell me,” he says, his voice exuberant. “What’s at the library that you want so badly to see?”

  “Books,” I blurt out. I look out my window, pretend there isn’t a man-killing beast breathing in my face. “I want to see what sort of stories I’ve missed out on.”

  “Excellent. I know quite a few books that may interest you.”

  “Do you read?”

  “All the time.”

  Wow. Rain, the uncultured, arrogant prick, reads. He’s just full of surprises.

  “So, is that it?” he asks.

  I think for a moment, and I think about Ky and how it’s just a massive city surrounded by a ghost town and how past the ghost town is the ashen city, Louisville, a place few people roam. And I wonder where this Louisville is located and if the Resurgence is really hiding out there, but I can’t really tell Rain that without him freaking out on me, so I try to keep my explanation basic.

  “I’ve never seen the geography of Ky,” I say. “Maybe you could show me the Three Rivers.”

  “Hm. Okay, then. They might have a map there.”

  We arrive at the library within a few minutes. I step out of the cab and stare at the beautiful building before us. The library looks more like an old chapel than the snobby glass buildings of the city. The walls are made of limestone and a cupola rises toward the sky. We enter through the quaint double doors, Julius following us inside.

  Rain seems to know exactly where he’s going, like he comes here often. I follow him through the maze of bookshelves that stretch toward the ceiling, staring at all the thousands and thousands of books, and I think, I could easily live here. I mean, just give me my food rations and water every month, and I could probably make a living just reading books.

  Rain begins pulling books from the shelf and passing them back to me. I read the titles. Peter Pan, The Wizard of Oz, and a whole series titled The Chronicles of Narnia.

  “These are all classics from the Old Country.” He presses the books into my hand. “You might pick up on some of my ‘inside jokes’ if you read ‘em.” He spins on his heels. “And one more…ah, here it is.” He pulls out an old, red, hardback book called The Hymnal for Celebration and Worship and hands it to me. “Add a little musical culture to your life.”

  I snort. “Celebration and worship? What is this, some sort of collection of songs to sing to our chief?”

  Rain stares at me. “They have absolutely nothing to do with our chief.”

  Okay then. Once I have my books, Rain takes me on a tour of the library, then leads me into the geography section, and my heart skips with excitement. He slides out a rolled-up tube of paper and unravels it. The poster unfurls, and for the first time in my life, I’m staring at a map of the mega city-slash-country of Ky.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  I don't understand how small––or large––it is, until Rain points at a tiny red star that says Frankfort at the very edge of the map.

  “That’s where we are,” he says. “And here are the borders of our city. Also known as the Three Rivers.”

  I look closely at the borders.

  “We’ve got the Ohio River at the top.” Rain trails his finger along a curvy, blue line. “The Kentucky River on the East side, which runs right past the capitol building, and the Salt River on the southern border. Then here—” He points to a straight blue line. “––is the c
hannel we built between the Kentucky River and the Salt River.”

  “Any bridges?”

  “Like I said before, all bridges were blown up to keep the plagued out of our territory.”

  “So there’s absolutely no way to get across the rivers?”

  He stares at me suspiciously. “Well, I mean, if you know how to swim—”

  “I don’t.”

  “Then, no. There’s no way across. Unless you built a raft of some sort.”

  I suddenly feel claustrophobic. I mean, all this was common knowledge growing up. I’d always assumed there were no bridges, because no one even wants to cross over to Old World where leftover bodies of the plagued have been left to rot. But to know it as a fact now, to know I’m stuck here when I suddenly have the deep urge to leave this inhumane country behind…it’s kind of confining.

  “There is one bridge.” Rain says the words so quietly, I wonder if he really spoke or if I’m hearing things, but then he looks at me, his eyes guarded, his lips settled in a thin, straight line. And he says, very softly, “There’s one bridge left in the ashen city that crosses the Ohio River.”

  I catch my breath. The ashen city. Louisville. Which is apparently a city full of secrets.

  “So, where is this… ashen city?” I ask.

  He stares at me a moment longer than necessary, then looks back at the map, slowly trails his finger from Frankfort westward, following a line that says I-64, then his finger stops at a dot on the northern river. I know I should stop asking questions now, pretend like I don’t care, but my curiosity wins me over.

  “So, if I wanted to go to Louisville, how long, do you think, would it take to get there from here?”

  He blinks several times, then his serious features break into a grin and he laughs. And he laughs and laughs and laughs and says, “That’s quite possibly the stupidest question I’ve ever heard.”

  My throat tightens. “What? Two hours by jeep? Three, maybe?”

  “Are you crazy?” he asks. “Out of your shoddy mind? You don’t want to go to Louisville. That place is abandoned, full of thieves and…who knows what else. Zombies, maybe.”

  I snort. “Zombies. Is that what the Plagued have become?”

  He shrugs. “Maybe. You never know until you meet one.”

  The thought sends a shiver up my spine.

  “Seriously, though,” he says, sobering. “There's no food in Louisville. No people. The city is ashes. It’s the ghost town of a ghost town. It’s dead and…haunted. The only living beings there are the worst kind of criminals.”

  “Criminals?”

  “You know exactly who I’m talking about.” Something in his eyes shifts, and my heart takes a plummet. “Revolutionaries. Like the crew you hid in your hotel room.”

  “Those are rumors.”

  “Of course.” He chuckles and lifts his eyes to the ceiling. “Rumors.”

  I look back at the map, trying hard to hide anything that might give me away. “I guess I just wondered what it would be like to live in Louisville. You know, living off the grid, where Defenders and cameras can’t watch my every move. It’s kind of…freeing, if you think about it.”

  “You’d be completely alone. And you’d die alone.” He rolls the map back up and shoves it into its compartment, then places his arm around my shoulder and guides me out of the aisle. “You’re brave, little apple picker, but foolish. Your lack of fear will be the death of you. I can assure you of that. Defying the chief for kicks and giggles? That’s cute. But wandering out of the metropolis into the ruins of Louisville? You might as well be asking for a headstone. People who go there never return. I wouldn’t risk my life cutting into that dangerous territory if I were you.”

  I allow him to guide me out of the library, my mind spinning with his warnings. How does he know so much about the Resurgence, anyway? Whose side is he on? He thinks the government is corrupt, yet he was at the prison tormenting the rebels and at the club indulging. I can’t read him. I can’t tell if he actually cares about my safety or the Resurgence, or if he’s just trying to save his own neck by not getting involved.

  Rain mentions walking back to the hotel instead of taking a cab, and I happily agree. Julius walks behind us, and I have to glance back every once in a while just to make sure he isn’t about to attack me.

  “Don’t worry,” Rain says. “He’s as harmless as a kitten.”

  Tell that to the people he killed, I want to say, but I keep my mouth shut. Rain is very protective of his “kitten.”

  This is the perfect opportunity to dig for more answers. “So, Forest said you didn’t agree with the government system—”

  “Here we go again.” He rolls his eyes. “More shoddy questions.”

  “But your father and brother are politicians. You don’t agree with their lifestyle?”

  “I wouldn’t say that.” He smirks. “We get refined wine, picnics, nice clothes to wear, good education…what’s not to like?”

  “Then what don’t you agree with?”

  “The way we treat the Proletariat.”

  That’s a surprise, that Rain might actually have a grain of compassion. “You mean the commoners, like me.”

  “Yes, Rainbow Eyes. Like you and your little family in the Community Garden.”

  I laugh. I can’t help it. He’s just so incredibly contradictory it’s almost disgusting.

  “What’s so funny?” he asks.

  “Am I supposed to believe that a Patrician like yourself is compelled by compassion?”

  “Don’t get too excited. I have more feelings for Julius than I do for a Proletariat like you.”

  Of course. Of course he does. I link my arms behind my back. “So, how can the government be fixed?”

  He frowns. “I’m not sure if it can. Titus would have to, um, die, and I don’t see that happening any time soon.”

  Wow. His solution is completely opposite of Forest’s. Forest seems to think chaos will ensue if the chief is killed.

  “Why does he have to die?” I ask. “Couldn’t Forest have a say in changing things? Don’t all politicians have a vote in how to change the government?”

  “Of course you’d think that.” His lips twist mirthlessly. “Titus wants everyone to think he has nothing to do with the way the government’s run. He’s got it all figured out. He has the commoners thinking it’s the Patricians who make all the decisions, and he has the Patricians believing the commoners are treated with dignity. Trust me, Ember, he’s got everyone under his thumb.”

  “Except you, apparently. I mean, if you don’t agree with his…philosophy.”

  “Let’s just say I don't accept this place in life so readily. I’ve been around the city, and by ‘the city,’ I mean the entire country of Ky. I’ve seen poverty, though Titus claims there is none. I know this country has its problems, and I want no part in it. That, Ember, is why I don’t want to be a politician.”

  “So what do you want to be?”

  “Now we’re getting too personal.” Rain takes my elbow as we cross a busy intersection. “But, enough about me. What other questions do you have about Ky?”

  Why does he constantly dodge the questions about himself? What’s he hiding? Or does his father do enough nagging about his future that he doesn't want to discuss it with me, either?

  “Okay,” I say with an irritated sigh. “What about the Defenders? Titus can’t have all of them squashed under his thumb, if they don’t get paid as much as you Patricians.”

  “The Defenders are all brainwashed, Ember. As is everyone who isn’t a Patrician.”

  “Brainwashed?” I stop walking, that one word rattling around in my brain. “What do you mean?”

  He utters a curse, rubs the back of his neck, and glances around. “I guess…I guess you have a right to know.” He looks at me and lowers his voice another notch. “This is why it’s such a big deal that you’ve got Patrician blood, and why Titus is making it such a big deal. The politicians can’t control you like they can
control everyone else.” He stares at me. Speaks slowly. “The antitoxin our ancestors took…it did something to them. Altered their genes or something. And it gave them the power to brainwash the unvaccinated.”

  I feel like time has stopped. Like every thought in my brain has suddenly taken a vacation. Because I can’t seem to wrap my mind around what Rain is saying. “Is this some sort of joke?”

  He opens his mouth, closes it, looks around, then says. “Patricians have the power of persuasion. Manipulation. Compulsion. It only takes one word. A look in the eye and an order, and the Proletariat are forced to do whatever the Patricians tell them. No strings attached.”

  “So…all you have to do is look me in the eye, tell me to do something, and I’ll do it? No question?”

  “No,” Rain says simply. “That’s the thing. You’re different. You’re immune to our power.”

  “Power? Manipulation? Altered genes?” I choke out a laugh and try to decide whether to believe him right now, or discard his every word as cow dung. “Do you think I’m stupid? That I’ll just believe everything you say?”

  “Right now? Yes.”

  And he’s serious. Dead. Serious. His eyes unbreakable steel and cold, brutal honesty. And my humor vanishes because Rain isn’t often serious, but when he is…A chill runs down my spine, and I look away. “So, you’re telling me that all Proletariats are under this…manipulation?”

  “Only those with careers. After people are chosen for their careers, they go through a training program. They’re compelled to follow the rules. To work hard. They’re told how great and merciful the government is and to do whatever the chief instructs. They’re brainwashed.” He looks at me. “But you’re immune to our power, which could only mean one thing.”

  “I’m Patrician.”

 

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