Eos (The Eos Dawn Series Book 1)

by Jen Guberman

  I always considered myself a fairly realistic person, so the next thing to come to mind was a small fleece blanket. Obviously, I had no idea what I’d gotten myself into—I didn’t know what to expect in Avid. Nobody ever talks about the sleeping situations in the exile towns, and for all I know, I might be sleeping on the dirt outside tonight.

  One more item. This is it. Luckily for me, I was able to think of something that was both sentimental as well as practical—my leather satchel. When I turned 18 and was hired as an in-city messenger, my parents rewarded me with a real leather bag large enough to hold a package and some letters. This bag was the first expensive thing I had ever been given, and my parents saved for months to buy it for me. It was a symbol to me of a new level of independence—that job gave me my first taste of adulthood, and that bag was a vital part of my success at it, as simple as it was.

  Emptying my external pockets into the bag in obvious sight of the officers, I hoped they wouldn’t check my hidden pockets later. I shoved my blanket on top of the other items in my bag; I then lifted the long strap over my head and let it rest on my shoulder. I began to make my way to the window when I stopped for a moment. Should I try to talk to my parents; at least to say goodbye?

  No. If they cared enough to say goodbye, they wouldn’t have locked me out and ignored me at the door. I turned back around and made my way back out the window, sliding it shut behind me.

  “You have one hour remaining before we have to make our way to the city gate,” the male officer notified me.

  Without a response, I walked away from the window, never turning back.

  CHAPTER THREE

  With my last hour, I decided it would be best spent roaming the city—it would be the last time I would ever see it. I didn’t have any close friends to say goodbye to—Fabian was the only person I ever considered as such. It isn’t like I could go visit him.

  While thinking about my old friend, I wandered around the main city street. This street ran directly from the east side to the west side and through the city heart itself. I passed one of the few letterboxes located in our city, giving me an idea.

  “Do you have any paper and a pen?” I asked the officials.

  The woman pulled out a stationary pad and a blue pen from a little bag on her belt and handed it to me, crossing her arms and watching me. I began to scribble frantically,

  Fabian,

  I just wanted to let you know, there was an incident back home and I’m being exiled to Avid. See if you can get some of my stuff sent to you—my parents won’t need or want any of it, but I want you to remember some of the fun we used to have. Please don’t think I’m a terrible person, it wasn’t a big deal, but they caught me in the act and there’s no getting out of this. I hope things work well for you.

  You’re the best friend a person could have,

  E

  I folded the paper in half, and then over on itself again, then scribbled his name and city on the outside of the letter. The next time a cross-city messenger empties the letterbox, they should be able to find him that way. Cross-city messengers have to be particularly skilled at seeking out individuals, so I had no doubt that the letter would make its way to Fabian.

  I continued to walk down the main street, occasionally popping into the shops and little cafes I used to frequent to chat with the employees I knew. The officers stood near the doors of any of the places I visited, thankfully not encroaching on my privacy too much. I didn’t tell any of the employees I was leaving—I didn’t want to bother them with any of my mess. It was almost too depressing to know this was my last hour here, and I didn’t know what to do with it that would do justice to its memory—I was just wandering around aimlessly, running out the clock.

  When the time finally came, the male officer cleared his throat awkwardly.

  “Is-is there anyone else you want to say goodbye to?” he questioned.

  “Nope.”

  “We have just enough time to make it to the gates, if you would allow me to lead the way,” he said, knowing full well I had no choice but to follow him, but clearly feeling some degree of pity for me. At this, I just looked toward my feet as I let him begin walking in the direction of the city gates. When he was a few yards ahead of me, I began to follow him, the other officer trailing behind me.

  Along the way down the main street, we passed pockets of people who trained their eyes on me, staring as if I were a foreign species when they saw me shuffling between the two officials. At this point, I couldn’t wait to get to Avid. At least, there, people won’t look at me like this.

  We continued down the main street until a while later, we approached the monstrous city gate, with its intricate, gothic style brass embellishments and set of complex locks. The city gates stayed locked at all times except during certain time periods when the cross-city messengers arrive, when rations are delivered to exile towns, or when an exile takes place. A large black truck with tinted glass pulled up to the gate, and out stepped Redelle with one of his officials—a suited man with ginger hair. The ginger-haired man handed Redelle a small briefcase, with which Redelle proceeded to type a short combination. When he had typed the last digit, the briefcase clicked open, and Redelle removed a silver key no bigger than my thumb, handing the open case to the official. Redelle walked casually, but with an air of authority, to the gate, inserted the key, and stepped back towards the official, placing the key into the case himself and locking it.

  “Flannery, Carl, you may open the gate now,” Redelle said.

  My two officers stepped forward. Flannery, the frizzy-haired woman, tugged on one brass bar of the gate, while Carl pulled on the other, slowly opening both sides of the massive structure. Redelle beckoned me to follow him as he began to walk through the open gate. I turned around, half expecting to see my parents there but, of course, they were nowhere in sight. I turned back toward the gate and slowly trudged after Redelle.

  “I called in for transportation to Avid, and they should be arriving shortly. In the meantime, I should take this time to explain to you what to expect when you arrive,” Redelle said, after I had caught up. I looked around me, never having been outside the city gates before. It was dry outside the city—there was sand everywhere—hills of it.

  “How far away are the exile towns? The other cities?” I asked, distracted by my discovery of the outside.

  “Not too far,” Redelle replied politely.

  “Sorry for interrupting,” I added. “Go ahead.”

  “When your transportation arrives, you will have to claim your five items in the presence of me, the designated senior officer,” he motioned to the ginger-haired man, “and my personal officials. When we assure that you are within regulations, simply meaning you don’t have a Class 2 or above weapon, you only have five items, and you don’t have an animal as an item, you will be escorted into the vehicle and will be taken to Avid.”

  I nodded, my eyes still surveying the hills behind Redelle.

  “Look, E, I know you’re nervous. I’m sorry to have to do this to you—I know you aren’t a bad kid, but I have to follow the laws—they were put in place for a reason. I can’t make exceptions.” He looked apologetically at me. I began to feel a twinge guilty for the times before this that I had stolen and gotten away with it. This wasn’t exactly my first time—only my first time getting caught.

  “When you get to Avid, you’ll be dropped off in their town center. At this point, your escort will leave, and a representative of the town will take charge over your affairs, such as where you will be living. Avid has been an old junkyard since before the war, so I must warn you, it won’t be like anything you’ve ever seen. Any questions you have about it can be answered by the representative.” As he finished his sentence, a black truck identical to the other appeared, driving along a dusty road that covered one of the sand dunes.

  When the truck came to a stop, Redelle’s two officials and the senior officer stepped closer to me. Redelle instructed me to take out my five item
s and claim them.

  I took the bag off from around my shoulder and placed it in the sand beside me. I pulled out the blanket first.

  “My blanket,” I reached into the bag.

  “A picture of me and my dad,” I dug deeper.

  “A ring,” I skipped discussing the sentimental value of it.

  “Money,” I then held up the empty bag, overturning it. “And my bag.”

  “Your pockets please,” the senior officer asked. I turned out my external pockets, careful not to flash my hidden pockets, and when they were all satisfied, they instructed me to pack my bag back up. When I had shoved the blanket back on top of the other belongings in the bag, I tossed it over my shoulder again. Looking to Redelle for further instructions, he simply opened the back door to the truck.

  I sighed. This was it. I stepped into the truck, dropping my bag onto the seat beside me. Before I could utter a word, Redelle slammed the door shut behind me. Redelle, the officers, and the senior officer all stepped back as the driver started to drive the truck past everyone witnessing my exile. As the truck began to roll away from my city, I scrambled in my seat to turn around, just in time to see the last of the brass city gates with their fancy lettering.

  Rockhallow.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  I turned back around in my seat. About ten or so minutes into the drive, it was still silent. Well, I thought. This is sufficiently awkward.

  “So…” I said, trying to break the tension. “Which city are you from?”

  “Eastmeade.”

  “Cool,” I bobbed my head in an exaggerated nod. “Got a family?”

  “No.”

  “Alright. That’s cool too. How often do you drive these trucks?”

  “Often enough.”

  I didn’t know how to reply, so I just sat there, even more awkward than I had been in the original silence.

  “Well you’re quite the talkative one…” I muttered under my breath.

  He grunted.

  “What’s your name?” I asked.

  “You ask too many questions,” he complained, looking at me in the rearview mirror with deep-set hazel eyes and notably bushy eyebrows.

  “Just making conversation…”

  “Well don’t.”

  I sighed in frustration, slouching back a bit in my seat and pushing my feet against the passenger side seat, diagonal from my seat behind the driver. May as well get comfortable; this is clearly going to be a long drive.

  “Get your feet off my chair,” he growled.

  “Are you kidding me right now?” I hissed. “You won’t answer my questions or talk to me, the least you can let me do is prop my feet up!”

  “We aren’t going on some kind of ‘trip!’ This isn’t a vacation. You’re a prisoner—you’re scum—and you’re going to an exile town. Do you really think you have any right to say what I owe you?” His eyes glared angrily at me.

  “Fine,” I pouted, taking my black boots off the seat.

  After about a half an hour of sitting with my hands in my lap, quiet and anxious, I couldn’t help but to speak up.

  “Sir?” I asked, hoping overdone politeness would warrant a better response.

  “What?” he grunted.

  “Have you been to all of the exile towns before?”

  “Yes. I don’t go much past the main gates though.”

  “What’s Avid like?”

  His eyes met mine again in the mirror, but this time he almost had a look of sympathy as his gaze softened.

  “It isn’t the best of the towns, but it isn’t the worst. The Bellicose exiles literally live in caves,” he let out a brief, deep laugh. “From what I’ve heard, the cities threw the brutes in caves, calling them barbaric cavemen. The founders had a sick sense of humor.”

  “Do you know why they picked a junkyard for Avid then?” I asked, my curiosity growing.

  “I’m not sure about that one. I haven’t driven many of the Avid exiles. I know that the exiles in Clamorite were put on a mountain because there’s a giant waterfall stuck up on it, and I swear you can barely hear your own thoughts there, let alone the noise of the exiles. And the liars in Equivox are around a lake because some symbolic crap about reflections and transparency. I never quite understood that one,” he pondered as he rubbed a stubbly black goatee.

  “So, do you mind me asking what happened?” he asked, his tone significantly lighter than it was at the beginning of the drive.

  “Uhh,” I started. “I stole some rum.”

  “Is that all?” He let out a booming laugh. “I hope you got a good swig of it before they got ya.”

  I let out a half-hearted chuckle.

  “I didn’t. I managed to get into a locked bar cabinet; I was going to take the stuff from before the war and hang onto it for a while then sell it.”

  “Sell it to who? The cities weeded out all of the fences only a matter of months ago.”

  “Fences?” I asked.

  “Yup. People who don’t do the stealing themselves, but will buy stolen goods under the table and sell them back to unknowing shop owners for a pretty penny.”

  “Did you drive them to Avid?”

  “Yeah,” he answered. “That was my first and only other time driving to Avid.”

  “So why are you driving me if you’re from Eastmeade, and I’m from Rockhallow?” I questioned.

  “Most of the drivers to the towns are from Eastmeade. The trucks come from Fallmont, but the drivers often come from Eastmeade. Your town doesn’t have any drivers of their own.”

  “Oh. How far is Eastmeade? And what else is out there, anyways? I’ve never been outside my city.”

  “It isn’t very far—that’s why I got to Rockhallow when I did. And nothing. Not on this side of the country, at least. Just the cities, the exile towns, sand, more sand, and some ruins. I’ve heard tell of other cities existing in our country still, but we have no communication with them, if they even exist.”

  “Hasn’t anyone tried to travel to those cities?”

  “Obviously, but there’s so much residual radiation the further out you go from the New Territory that people just… don’t.”

  “They don’t even try?”

  “I’m sure some have, but not successfully.”

  I began to try to picture Avid. Would there be houses? Apartments? Jail cells? Do they have jobs there? What do people do there? I guess I would find out soon enough—sooner than I cared to.

  After a while of sitting in thought, the driver spoke up.

  “We’re about to pull up to the gates.”

  I hoisted myself up in my seat to get a look. I saw about a dozen tall buildings, maybe four or five stories high. The buildings were all fairly decrepit, with chunks of concrete chipping off and some glass windows missing, leaving behind flimsy rusted frames. I leaned toward the middle of the backseat to get a better look out the front window, my eyes meeting a monstrous cement wall with a plain grey gate, which was opening slowly in front of us.

  Before me was undeniably the most deserted looking place I had ever seen, aside from a few individuals taking obvious pauses to try to stare into the truck to see the newcomer. There was what appeared to be a town circle, with a grey brick well in the center. Lining the center in a large circle were the tall buildings.

  The truck came to a stop, and the driver put the vehicle in park.

  “This is where I have to ask you to get out,” he said neutrally. He opened his door, stepped out, and opened my door.

  After he slammed the door shut behind me, he looked me in the eyes, lowering his gaze a bit.

  “Name’s Aiden,” he said, offering a hand.

  “Eos,” I replied, taken slightly aback. I shook his hand awkwardly.

  Aiden got back into the truck and pulled the door shut behind him, rolling down the window as he pulled away.

  “Hey, kid,” he shouted at me. “You got this.”

  I nodded, severely doubting what he said.

  Once I realized he dr
opped me off without directing me to the representative, I fully understood that I had no idea what I had gotten myself into.

  I looked around at the different buildings, with no noticeable distinctions between them. I swore under my breath. I’m so screwed.

  The most logical thing to do I suppose would be to try each one and ask around, so I made my way to the building on my far left. I knocked on the door, letting a hollow thud echo. When no one answered, I decided I would try to open the door and just peer inside. I tried to turn the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. On to the next building, I suppose.

  When I got to the next building over, I saw there wasn’t a door.

  “Hello?” I called inside.

  “Come on in!” replied a cheery feminine voice.

  I stepped inside, looking around at a fully grey, concrete room. Obvious dust had collected on the floors. Walking further inside, I saw a couple of worn couches in a makeshift square, with a few people lounging casually.

  I stood awkwardly at the door as a short girl stood from the couch, her hair an icy blonde, with countless tight curls. Her skin was pale, her eyes a soft blue. She couldn’t have been older than 18. She smiled a charming smile at me as I entered.

  “You’re new, aren’t you?” she asked. Her voice matched the feminine voice that called me in.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “I need to find the representative.”

  “He’s busy right now, but why don’t you come sit with us?” she said, moving toward the couches.

  Figuring I needed to meet people and make connections if I was to be stuck there anyways, I accepted. Walking deeper into the living space, I looked up and saw that the ceiling continued up to the roof of the building, with balcony-like hallways along the walls of every floor, looking down onto the couches. There were large, cracked windows all along the far wall, illuminating the entire room in warm sunlight.