Rising Up: A YA Dystopian Sci-Fi Series (Tranquility Series Book 1)

by Tanya Ross

  About ten minutes later, the daffodil yellow CommuteCar pulled up in front of the White Sands’ gate. The arch holding the gate, constructed of sand-coated concrete, had “White Sands” etched into its header. The pale half-moon crescent of the entrance looked ghostly, especially as the sun’s waning rays tinged its outline with a dull glow. The camera winked at them from both sides of the entrance, and Will made sure the camera saw both of them clearly in spite of the evening shadows. Their visit shouldn’t be questionable, but he was taking no chances. Trying to hide something was a real red flag at City Hall.

  The community was always last on the list of city priorities for improvement, as the peeling paint on the gate gave testimony. More frustrating, it resisted opening, its hinges rusty, finally voicing its protest in a heavy whine. Will gave Ember a high five once the gate swung wide.

  “Carol’s house is just inside the gate,” Will said. “It’s Abode Number Four. You ready to see what Carol can tell us about her ring?”

  “If anything. I’m not sure if the ring has anything special about it other than what I’ve been told.”

  The white door to Carol’s place was wide and looked to be freshly painted, a concession probably due to the lady’s honored status. A camera noted their arrival, sending a reverberating chime beyond. Without delay, the door opened to reveal a smiling young lady about Ember’s age, who looked angelic in a white floor-length dress, her curly brown hair springing out in divergent directions.

  “Hello, fellow Tranks!” Carol raised her arm in customary fashion, flexing her right index finger in what looked like a tiny wave. “How are you doing on this fine day?” she asked. “And you’re a Plauditor…I’m so flattered by your visit.”

  “We’re doing great,” Will responded, also raising his arm in greeting. “I’m Will Verus, and this is Ember Vinata, a friend. We’re out visiting the Augur Prize Honorees of last term’s Day of the Ring. If you don’t mind, we want to ask you a few questions about how your life has been since you were honored by City Hall.”

  “Of course, of course. Come on in.”

  Will and Ember stepped inside an alabaster room. All the furniture, art, and walls were white, and Ember realized in a way Will had gone back home. His parent’s place just down the street had to be virtually identical.

  “Sit down, please,” Carol commanded. With that, she gestured broadly, her right hand decorated with the gleaming honorary ring. Ember was able to see how much Carol’s ring looked identical to her mother’s. Only the stone was different. This one was a pearl with extraordinary luster set off by tiny diamonds.

  “Thanks so much. We won’t take too much of your time.” Will sat down on the milky sofa, patting the seat next to him for Ember.

  “No problem at all. Whatever I can do for our fine city, Mr. Verus.” Carol sat directly across from her guests, carefully smoothing her dress to prevent wrinkles.

  “Please, call me Will. Congratulations on your recent prestige as the White Sands honoree. I’ll bet you’re looking forward to moving up soon. It can’t be long.”

  “Yes, I was so thrilled. I’ve only taken my ring off once, and that was to clean it.” She glanced down at her hand and, with a little smile, turned the ring to sit perfectly on her finger.

  “My mother, Talesa, was also in your group. She was amazing, but she’s since…passed away. Have you had any problems since you were inducted?” Ember felt her voice catch on her mother’s name. So much for burying the sadness, she thought.

  “First of all, I’m truly sorry about your mother. I don’t understand why she died. I’m sure it’s been a struggle with your Alt.” Carol’s face wrinkled in sympathy. “But problems for me? Why, no. I’ve had nothing but happiness.” The honoree’s face suddenly became radiant. “Everyone in White Sands treats me like a queen, and I seem to be respected everywhere I go in the City. I’m given VIP treatment. I feel as if I’m already a higher Status, when I’m still only a Level One. I know I’ll be moving up the Continuum into Level Two in a short time. Happiness is a choice, right?”

  Ember couldn’t deny Carol’s contentment. The smile, the confidence, the exuberance—Carol was, without doubt, the model of a successful “Trank.” Her aura glowed pink. But even though Carol was probably Ember’s age, Carol was still only a Level One. An accomplished Level One, recognized and given the Augur Prize for Purity. But it had taken her a long time to achieve that level of success. Not even a Level Two yet. Ember suddenly became self-conscious of her own Status. Poor Carol—her assigned clothes all white. All at once, Ember felt uncomfortable in her royal blue cashmere sweater and knit pants.

  “So glad to hear. I’m so thrilled that you are such an outstanding example in our fair city. It’s been wonderful meeting you.” Will flashed her a charming smile, sure to melt the young girl’s heart. “Just one more question. Does your ring have a number engraved inside?”

  Carol shook her head. “Not that I’ve seen, unless it’s microscopic. The one time I took it off, I cleaned it, and I didn’t see anything unusual.” She began fidgeting with the ring once more, twirling it around her finger. “You need to check it? I haven’t done anything wrong, have I?”

  “No, you haven’t done anything wrong. I’m not here to put you under the spotlight. I’d love to examine the ring, though. Would that be alright?” Will gently smiled, placing his hand on her shoulder as reassurance.

  She nodded. After a slight struggle with the ring, Carol pulled it off and handed it across to Will. “I feel pretty naked without it. Not that it’s as important as my Alt, but I’m totally attached to it.”

  “I understand.”

  Ember watched Will turn it over in his hand and look intently at the interior band. Nothing. There was no number, no inscription. Will handed the ring back, dropping it into Carol’s outstretched palm.

  Ember felt the girl’s relief wash over her the second the ring was back in her hand. The emotion almost knocked her over. That must be some attachment, Ember concluded.

  “Thanks for the visit, Carol. Ember and I wish you continued success.” Will stood and headed to the door. Ember followed, knowing her disappointment would register on her Alt.

  “Goodbye, Will and Ember. Hope the rest of your visits are pleasurable.”

  Closing the door to Number Four, Will and Ember looked at each other. The dark had crept in, right on schedule, as if the night was trying to hide all the answers they needed. Yet Will’s voice brimmed with optimism. “Well, we didn’t find out much there, but we’ve only just begun. What do you say we go grab dinner together?”

  “Yes. Love it. I’m starving.” Ember giggled as her stomach rumbled its agreement.

  Will gave his Alt the command for the Level Twelve CommuteCar and placed his finger on his Alt’s sensor for a reading as well.

  Ember could feel and see Will’s cheerfulness. It affected every cell in her being, but she couldn’t let that show. “Everything okay?” she asked coyly.

  “Oh, yeah. Points are high and car’s on its way. There’s only one thing that would make me happier.”

  “What’s that?”

  Will placed his hands on Ember’s shoulders and gently turned her to face him. “This.” He kissed her. Softly and then urgently. Like wildfire, the kiss burned its way down through her body until her feet melted into the pavement.

  26

  Xander’s Journey

  Once the voices died down to a low murmur, Xander began to assemble the REMs into a hierarchy of command. His friends from the beginning, Jasper, Graham, and Bixby would become his lieutenants, each charged with specialized jobs for the venture to come.

  “Jasper, you’re gonna be in charge of making sure the crew has all their equipment ready to go. No one can lack the basic elements—food, water, rocks, weapons, and tools. Everybody has to have a way to carry everything. Bixby, you’re the lineman at the end of the group as we travel, making sure that we all stay together. No one falls behind. Each of the guys pounded each other on
the back and shoulders. You’d think they’d just won a lofty prize.

  Xander clapped Graham on the shoulder. “And Graham, you’re my right-hand man. If anything happens to me, you’re in charge.”

  “Xander, ya better protect yourself. I ain’t ready to be in charge.” He shuffled his feet as he wandered around gathering rocks for the trip.

  “You’re ready. The best one to do it.” He kept his eye on Graham. The guy was always a surprise. He chuckled to himself as he saw him pick up a sharp stick and examine it before thrusting it out several times in a make-believe fight.

  “I can’t,” he said, as he dropped the stick to the dirt. “Why not pick Jasper?”

  “Jasper’s not my best bud. You are. You’ll take care of everyone.” Xander jogged over to help Bixby collect a few rocks that had fallen from his hands. Overambitious with the size of those things, he thought. “Don’t collect so many ya can’t carry ‘em, Bix.” He sprinted back over to where he’d left Graham fighting the losing battle with the stick.

  Graham rubbed his dirty hands over a much filthier face. “I dunno. I never led anybody.”

  “Till lately, me either, Graham.”

  “Yeah…you either? I’ve seen ya. You got serious skills.”

  A series of heartbeats marked a moment of silence before Xander walked over to stand directly in front of Graham. “Remember when we found those giant bugs?”

  Graham slapped his face with his hand. “Xander. That was bad. Don’t wanna think about it.”

  “No—listen. Every one of ‘em was three inches long. I thought they’d be a real feast. We caught those bugs, about thirty of ‘em, brought ‘em back and cooked ‘em up.” He looked Graham in the eye, his mouth holding a half-smile.

  “Xander…that was your idea, not mine.”

  “Yeah. But we did it. Together.” Xander grabbed Graham’s shoulders tightly and gave him a tiny push.

  “I didn’t eat any of those. You, Jasper, Bixby, and a few other guys all got sick. Puked all night.”

  “But you helped me when we got sick. Helped the others. Went and got water and made us drink it. Without you, we’d have been miserable a lot longer. And you cheered everyone up. I see what’s there. You’re a leader.”

  “I didn’t do that much.” Graham looked away and shuffled his feet.

  “But you took over. That’s why you’re the choice.”

  Xander made a fist and held up his arm. Graham grinned before stepping forward, fist bumped him, and said. “Just don’t die or nothin’.”

  I don’t plan on it, he thought. There’s nothing I can’t handle.

  Xander turned to the entire group of twelve, reenergized. “We’re rollin’ out today, REMs! Goin’ out east to the alleged burn site first.” Xander pumped his fists in the air, seeming to stir the dry wind rustling the dead vegetation scattered about. Today the air was cold, its bony fingers grabbing their bodies like a tomb raider. But Xander was hot under his skin, his ambition and unsuppressed resentment igniting his entire being.

  Several hours later, the troop assembled and equipped, they left Camp behind.

  About two miles out, the group began to drag. The heat was oppressive, the sweat running down their arms and legs. Dirt and sand burned their feet so badly they would scamper quickly, as if hurrying would make it hurt less. With no warning, they’d walk into an icy wind, and then they would shiver. The landscape was not only boring, but the brutal environment of opposites sucked the energy from their bodies.

  Xander knew he had to keep their spirits up. If not, they’d want to head back to Camp to veg in the relative safety of their wretched “apartments.”

  “Hey, Jasper?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You know when you look good?”

  “Ah, no…”

  “You look good when your eyes are closed, but you look the best when my eyes are closed!”

  Laughter punctured the bleakness. It’s easy to make them laugh, and we all need it.

  One by one, he singled them out for a joke or two.

  “Iris! You’re lagging behind a bit. But, hey—if I promise to miss ya, will you go far, far away?”

  Iris burst out laughing and the others echoed with their guffaws.

  “Oh, Bixby…didja ever wonder why there aren’t more trees around here? If idiots grew on trees, this place would be an orchard.” Xander laughed along with them, adding to their sense of camaraderie.

  By the time they had made it another few miles, Xander had sufficiently roasted each member of the clan, and spirits were high. I almost feel I’m doing a Plauditor’s job—keeping my guys in a good mood in this god-forsaken territory. How ironic is that.

  They trudged ahead, scanning the horizon for smoke from the top of a massive hill littered with a pile of what appeared to be incinerated black rocks and massive boulders. The group stopped for a breather, joking about rolling down the hill to get where they were going faster. At the peak’s base, yawning ravines and gorges were outlined in craggy stone. They created a deep space for water, but the area held only shadows.

  Xander mounted the vast pile of rubble, jumping to the top notch, a boulder the size of a small car. “Hey, hey! The ‘Pinnacle of Success,’ right REMs?” The monolith provided a great vantage point, but Xander saw no vestige of smoke from the spectacular vantage point. Disappointed, he climbed down. On his way, he found a treasure half buried in the dirt. It was a metal pike, six feet tall, which he decided was far too heavy to carry along in their journey. He looked at it longingly, then dramatically kissed it goodbye, to the amusement of the crew. They made the journey down, picking their way carefully among the rough obstacles.

  No less than five minutes later, the guys stopped in their tracks. A blood-curdling snarl rippled through the wind. The hair on Xander’s arms stood up, his brain echoing with alarm.

  “What was that?” A girl toward the back of the group squeaked the question, and it hung, suspended, in silence.

  “Shh. Listen and don’t move.” Xander stood stock still, only his head whipping around, looking in every direction. Whatever it was, it was close enough to hear, but not near enough to see. “I don’t see anything but have your weapons ready and stay close. We move forward.” Xander began surveying the geography of the area for a protected space. Vegetation was nonexistent. And it looked as if there had never been a city or anything else there. No structures decorated the landscape.

  “Not another word.”

  The members pulled their best weapons from their knapsacks, most carrying knives, but some boasting square hammers of steel. They were equipped with some fearsome deterrents, but their band was unwieldy and inexperienced. They moved mutely along, their faces creased with abstract fear.

  The snarl came again, louder, an evil omen of something vicious. The creatures they knew—those they hunted and ate to survive—were docile and half-witted. None of those growled or revealed their presence; they hid themselves in a desperate effort to survive an already-hostile environment.

  The party turned warily in the direction of the rumble, their accelerated, drumming hearts almost audible.

  A Greelox raced from the west toward their group. Even from its distance, Xander noted its eyes, alight with a jaundiced glow. Its teeth dripped with saliva, crimson from a recent kill. Bared jagged fangs, razor-sharp, held the evil promise of ripped flesh. The creature loomed eight feet tall, its body a muscle-bound, fibrous hulk.

  Xander had heard about Greelox. But the rumors he had heard about these animals didn’t come close to what he was seeing. As the beast drew closer, the scritching of its paws along the uneven terrain emphasized its clawed talons, each several inches long with needle-sharp tips. Ten-to twelve-inch spikes along the top of its head trailed down its neck and shoulders, stopping for a merciful break along its compact back. Smaller spikes protruded from its hindquarters, continuing down to the start of a furless lion-like tail, the tuft at the end it’s only softness. Black tiger stripes on its sinewy skin we
re a promise of the darkness within.

  A roar thundered from the cat’s deep chest as it landed in front of the group, its final leap a deadly challenge. Oh my god. Let my team be up to this. In an ironic answer to his thoughts, all but his three officers, Jasper, Graham, and Bixby, turned back the way they had come, running for dear life. Their screams led their journey to the hill they’d traversed just minutes before.

  I can’t let my destiny be devoured by this freak of nature. Frikkin’ Shazz! Fight! Xander attacked, adrenaline flooding his limbs. He stabbed at the beast with his knife, reaching—stretching—for its leathery chest. A swing, and the blade missed. A plunge of the knife into a skeletal dent under the chest did nothing. The blade seemed like a mere feather in his hands. Xander eyed the spikes along the being’s back, realizing that there was no way to penetrate the spine of the animal, even if he could jump high enough.

  Meanwhile, Xander saw Jasper, Graham, and Bixby spread out several feet away from the Greelox. They threw rocks from their satchels at the beast’s head and flanks. The six-inch rocks hit their target, time after time, repeatedly. The mutant tiger screamed. It was being hurt, and it bled from raw cavities in its flesh, but it did not stop snapping its jaws and lashing its claws. From the corner of his eye, Xander watched Graham bravely recover the REM’s rocks now scattered around the creature. The other two continued their assault, the Rock Masters in the competition of their lives.

  It’s now or never. Xander knew the plan forming in his mind was risky. For a moment he agonized…I either die here or try to protect everyone else. I hate like hell leaving my three guys alone. But no time to hesitate. It has to work. This is our only chance to bring this monster down.

  Xander screamed out, “Run to the gorge! Now!” Then he turned and sped as fast as he could to the top of the hill. He felt as if sandbags weighed him down. Damp with terror, he smelled his own sweat. Each step fractured the dust as he sped to the top of the hill. The crest of the hill taunted his efforts, as it seemed to move away rather than rise up to greet him. But finally, he reached the pinnacle, breathing hard, a burn spreading through his chest. The frightened army of eight REMs, who ran for their lives, gathered around him as if he had just returned from the dead. “Xander! You’re safe!” one of them cried. He pushed them all away. There was no time for a sentimental reunion.