by Tanya Ross
The sight greeting Will as he and Ember peered out the back was a somber one. Blackened ground and charcoaled wood pieces were scattered about a primitive clearing. This then must be the burn site. It was painful to see, just slightly less torturous than watching the flames devouring the victims. The evidence of Will’s suspicions lay before them, Tranquility’s broken dreams.
He turned to Ember and took her in his arms. It was a bitter conclusion to Talesa’s story. He hoped she could be brave, and then remembered she didn’t have to be. Her emotions were now her own. Will let her go after a tight body-melding hug.
She said, “I’m ready. Let’s jump.”
Will beamed his thousand-watt smile, and they hopped down in unison from the transport’s three-foot elevation. Will said, “The end of the road, but the beginning of a better life.”
Xander and Wee rounded the corner from the front of the vehicle. Will hadn’t realized Xander still had one of the rifles, but there it was, slung across his shoulder.
“The burn site, as you may have gathered,” Xander declared with a sweep of his arms. “But over there, not so obvious,” he pointed to the straggly trees nearby. “That’s where numbers are carved.”
Will said, “For the victims?”
“I imagine,” Xander replied. “If the rings were numbered as you said…”
“My mom’s number. It’ll be there.” Ember’s voice was a thin whisper.
Will put his arm around Ember, wishing he could be alone to comfort her, but an overly emotional Wee threw his arm about Will’s shoulders.
“We’re all here for you, Ember,” Wee said.
Ember said, “Thanks, guys.”
Will turned to Xander who stood a couple of yards away with his arms crossed. “You coming, Xander?”
Xander said, “We’re a team, aren’t we?” Xander closed the gap by taking Ember’s side, further erasing the space as he eased his arm across her shoulder.
Will bristled, his face flushing. His muscles spasmed, but now was not the time for combative words.
In strained solidarity, they walked toward the trees, the crunching of crispy, blackened coals under their feet the only sounds in the desolate wasteland.
Their feet tracking powdered soot, the group approached the slender thicket. The trees, anemic and shadowy in the twilight, seemed to whisper “shhhh” as a sudden cold wind ruffled their tattered branches.
Then, the numbers. Merely half-inch tall, they seemed larger than life. Stark. Forlorn. Lonely.
Ember reached out and reverently touched the first number she saw. She put her hand to her mouth and started to weep, catching her breath in between jags.
This number was once a person, Will thought. He choked back a surge of pain welling up in his throat. Inconceivable.
Xander cleared his throat and said, “We can all search a while. We’ll find it quickly enough with the four of us.”
Will said, “Agreed. Number 1025, everyone.”
He hesitated to leave Ember’s side, but time was passing, and they still had prisoners to manage. He would do like the others and fan out.
Within minutes, Will found his adopted tree’s numbers began with a stark number 0101. Other numbers were carved on the tree in various places, none of them in a row. And none of them the number he was seeking.
“Where are the thousands?” Will called out.
“Here!” Xander’s voice echoed.
Ember streaked to Xander’s spot, pushing Xander out of the way. Ember searched the tree, finding and touching each number before moving on. The numbers were scattered— some high, some low—but there were very few on the tree. Ember stood on her tiptoes to see one of them a couple of feet above her head.
The rest of the group gathered up around Ember’s tree, standing aside, their respect for her search reflected in their faces. Will found himself holding his breath, watching. At last she stopped, looking almost frozen. 1024. So close. This was it. No doubt this was the series of numbers they came to find. She searched up and down the tree’s expanse, checking and rechecking each number, even casting her gaze up into the stubby limbs.
“Is that all? All?” Ember cried. “Where’s 1025?” She looked frantically at the rest of the group. “Why isn’t it here?” She yanked on her hair, sobs engulfing her again. She crumpled to the ground and pounded her hands against the tree.
“Hey, are we sure?” Wee said, his voice radiating a forced optimism. “There’s no more numbers?” Throwing up a “wait” gesture with his giant hand, he loped from tree to tree one more time. The rest of the little party joined in, again spreading out, reexamining the trees. But the numbers were clear. Each tree had a series, and none of them had more than a few numbers on them.
Will’s heart broke. Wasn’t this the least she could have? A number? All he could do was clutch Ember to his chest and let the rush of her tears soak into his clothing. She grabbed his shirt with her fists, her head buried in his chest in defeat.
“Ember, there’s got to be more to this. We’ll figure it out. The Magistrate will answer for this,” Will said with clenched teeth.
He smoothed his hands through her hair until her sobs quieted. She looked up at him through her drowned lashes, and he vowed to himself to be the man she trusted him to be. In the meantime, he could simply offer her hope for the future. “I’m so sorry, Ember. One day, no matter the risk, I’m gonna make this right.”
Xander smirked at Will, but then turned to Ember. “No quest is too great for me either. I’m ready and—,” he raised one eyebrow— “willing.”
Will picked up on Xander’s implication, and immediately changed the subject. “Ember…we have prisoners to release, and then we need to head back. The three of us will get the Plauditors untied and let them go. Until then, if you want to stay…”
“No.” She took a deep breath and stood up straight.
Xander nodded at Will, and they strode back to the transport, where each of them first ungagged the Plauditors. Once their mouths were free, Austel screamed and yelled. “Finally! You lean-witted maggots! Were you going to leave us all day?”
“Yes, that is the plan, and not just for the day,” Xander replied. Xander roughly cut the zip ties around their wrists and pushed the prisoners out of the van. “There ya go.” One babbled and screamed, practically falling from the van. As their feet hit the dirt, they hugged themselves and shivered in the chill wind.
He saw their eyes pan the scene, the skin on their faces tight, their eyes as wide as bloated balloons. The charred space gave its testimony.
“Now maybe you’ll believe,” Will said to them.
“C’mon. We want to go back to the city,” one fair-haired Plauditor implored. “We made a mistake…”
“Don’t abandon us here! Can you be that heartless?” another moaned.
Austel began a whiny all-scale campaign. “Look, we can work something out. I know things…I can help you.”
Xander said, “Seriously? Now you want to join our cause? Well, I don’t blame you. Life is harsher than you can imagine out here.”
In spite of everything, except for Austel, Will felt a twinge of sympathy. Nor did he want to leave anyone in this place who could be useful to them later. “No way of knowing if they’re worth saving without Ember confirming,” Will said.
Wee spoke. “Can you reassess them, Ember? They’ve suddenly become converts to our cause.”
Ember grimaced but turned her attention to each of the discredited Plauditors. Fascinated, Will watched her put her hands on every person’s shoulders and make eye contact with each. It didn’t take more than thirty seconds to judge the entire group.
“They’re frightened, but I can’t tell their thinking. Their auras are diffused out here beyond Tranquility. We simply can’t trust them. We need to leave them behind.”
She sounded regretful but determined. Will was struck by how much she had changed even in the short time since they had first met. She was beginning to trust herself.
<
br /> The captors immediately began yelling again in protest, their emotions practically growing into full-size monsters. Austel, of course, was the most verbal. He lashed out. “Your coup won’t be successful, and then you’ll all wind up out here too. But you, Will, you’re gonna burn eventually for this. You’re a disgrace, a traitor.”
The words hurt for a moment, but Will bounced back. “One day, when you realize you’re wrong, maybe we’ll come back for you. So, you better hope we’re successful.”
Austel merely grunted.
Xander said, “Go. Walk away. Suggest you head East.” He pointed in a direction beyond the trees.
“I won’t forget this, Will,” Austel said. He suddenly raised his arm to throw a punch, but Will blocked it, twisted his arm around his back, and shoved him forward.
“Get going,” Xander hissed. He grabbed the rifle and brought it forward.
Austel turned his back and began walking, still calling out insults as he went. The rest of them drifted off slowly, as if in a trance, shuffling their feet and looking back at them in case there was a sympathetic change of heart.
The little Phoenix party stood their ground, watching the captives until they slipped behind a cactus-covered hill obscuring them from view.
“We can’t leave until we leave our own mark,” Wee said. “I have an idea.” He turned to Xander. “You got somethin’ on you we can use to carve?”
“Of course.” Xander pulled a spartan knife from his uniform pocket. “Here you go.”
“Did you make this or somethin’? It’s pretty sad,” Wee joked, as he turned it over in his palm.
“It does the job.”
“C’mon. Follow me,” Wee said. He led them back to the trees.
Placing the blade into a broad space on the trunk of the nearest tree, Wee carved his name into the bark. It was crude, but it was distinct.
He handed the shank over to Will. He etched his name underneath. He spoke each letter. “W…I…L…L… I’m finished.”
Xander stepped up next. “I’m representing all the REMs here—not just me. I’m proud of that and of who we are.” Using the tiptop point of the blade, and holding it steady with his two hands, “REM” soon solidly appeared below Will’s name.
Flashing her a smile, Xander asked Ember to open her palms. He reverently placed the knife across her hands. “Now, for you, Ember. Your mother’s number may not be here, but your name will be here for a long time to come.”
Her right hand closed around the handle, and Will watched her approach the tree. She stood there for a minute, staring at their names. She turned around to look at her friends, an expression of joy on her face, as if she had just inhaled a sunbeam, lighting her up from the inside.
She began to carve, but not below the others. Her name went right next to Xander’s, where he had carved his tribute to the REMs.
As he watched the third letter of her name emerge, Will realized what was happening. Within a moment, so had the others.
Wee
Will
REMEmber
The four huddled together, each calling out their part of the message with triumphant voices and pumping their fists in the air.
With the final whoop, Will broke from the group and raced back to the transport van. He leapt up on the bumper and spread his arms wide. “The fate of all Tranks rests in our hands, and so does the city of Tranquility!”
The others ran to Will, lifted him off the bumper and carried him around above their heads in a spirit of victory.
“To real happiness!” Ember cried.
“To rising from the ashes!” Wee said.
And, finally, Xander. “The revolution begins!”
Acknowledgments
When I began this book, I was excited about the fulfillment of a lifelong dream. However, this work of fiction was one of the most difficult projects I have ever attempted.
As an educator I tried to push my students to always think positive and to “rise above.” That, in part, fueled my plot. But what I told my students daily was so much easier to preach than to perform. What I thought would be easy, was certainly not. It challenged me beyond what I thought possible. So, I have many to thank for their help and support on this very demanding journey.
To my husband, Kerry, I thank you for your unwavering belief in me and your continual flow of ideas. I could never have completed this project without you. And to the rest of my family, especially my daughter, Ashley, who have stayed interested and encouraging throughout the past three years as I wrote this novel, thank you.
To my Writer’s Group--thanks for your support and feedback. Pete Peterson, in particular, I owe you my gratitude for your critiques, encouragement, and help with publishing.
To the Beta Readers at Woodland Park Middle School, for your evaluations and “five star” ratings. Thanks to Kim Saito and Heidi Patchett, excellent language arts teachers, for your willingness to help secure those very important readers in spite of your insanely busy schedules.
Great appreciation goes out to all the San Marcos Unified staff members who have supported me as I launched this novel: Jamie Yorba, Heidi Patchett, Kim Saito, Trish Lucia, Steve Ottaviani, and the ELA Curriculum council.
Also, love and thanks go to the thousands of students in my career, whose collective and sometimes singular personalities inspired me to develop believable characters.
And finally, to my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, through whom all things are possible.
Before You Go…
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Biography
Tanya Ross was born and raised in San Diego County, her “happy place.” Although Southern California is a particular kind of paradise, she desires a world where everyone is kind, compassionate, and upbeat, which became one of the themes of her new novel, Rising Up. For thirty-two years she was an educator of English, history, AVID, and student leadership. She loved teaching and kids, her students a daily inspiration. Her exit from the educational arena allowed her to indulge her hopes, dreams, and goals in what she taught for so many years--writing. This first novel begins her lifelong dream of writing meaningful novels for young adults. When she’s not creating new worlds, you can find her reading, spending time with her husband and two kids, or walking her golden retriever, Honey.