From the Dust: A Dystopian Novel (Ember Society Book 1)

by AR Colbert

  From the Dust

  Ember Society, Volume 1

  AR Colbert

  Published by Ramsey Street Books, 2020.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  FROM THE DUST

  First edition. February 7, 2020.

  Copyright © 2020 AR Colbert.

  Written by AR Colbert.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  CHAPTER 27

  CHAPTER 28

  CHAPTER 29

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER 1

  I had to be selected as a Healer. My brother’s life depended on it.

  It’s not that he was sick or dying. Not yet, anyway. But I’d been sensing something shifting within him for several weeks, feeling his discontentment grow, and I needed to provide a way for us to get closer to the Center before the Outside pulled him away forever.

  The ground vibrated beneath me before the rumble of his oversized engine reached my ears. Closing my eyes, I took in a deep lung full of the fresh air surrounding me and stood to brush the dirt and grass from my backside. With one final glance at the pond, the only place I was really able to clear my mind, I turned toward the sanitation headquarters to greet my older sibling.

  The enormous, dirty, green and white truck pulled slowly through the chain-link gates, blowing up dust from the gravel lot as it rolled through. Cato’s buddies clung to the rear handles, taking the bumps in stride as they hollered across the back of the truck at each other with grins and chuckles. I couldn’t help but feel a small sense of pride as I watched him navigate the giant vehicle through the parking lot. Cato may have been selected as a Worker, but he was one of the few citizens of New America who had been taught to drive. There was something to be said for that.

  The pond was about two blocks away from his parking lot. Ever since the weather warmed up again after our brutal winter, I had been coming down to my spot after school each day. The number of free afternoons I had was dwindling, and I was determined to spend as many of them at the pond as I could, thinking and praying about the future as I looked out over the gentle ripples moving across the water’s otherwise glassy surface.

  Tomorrow those afternoons would come to an end. I’d sit to take the aptitude test and discover where my natural skills and talents would place me in society. The Department of Career Development would make their selections, and I would officially complete my primary education. My free afternoons would be replaced with my new job, or if I was lucky, with an additional two years of specialized training. All Healers had to begin with an additional two years of education. And I just had to be selected as a Healer.

  I made my way up the worn asphalt road away from the pond and toward my brother. He and his crew said their goodbyes as they each headed home for the evening. One by one, Cato’s coworkers exited the gravel lot and turned the corner back toward their homes in the borough.

  I waited by the road until Cato was the only person left. My nerves were on edge about the exam tomorrow, and I really didn’t have it in me to make small talk with any of the other guys. But instead of locking up the gate and meeting me on the road as I expected, Cato jogged back to the truck and climbed up inside the cab.

  My stroll picked up into a trot as I hurried to meet up with my brother. Maybe they had missed a house on the way back and he was driving out again to take care of it before sundown. If that was the case, he may need my help since his coworkers had already gone.

  “Cato!” I called out. “Hang on!”

  His head popped out over the top of the truck, his eyebrows furrowed into an exaggerated look of irritation. He waved me down with his hands as I finally reached the gate and whisper-yelled back at me.

  “Keep your voice down! Wait there. I’ll be right out.”

  The expression on his face twisted my stomach into a knot. What on earth was he doing over there? I didn’t plan on waiting to find out. Ignoring his instructions, I quickly made my way past the other trucks in the lot over to where he was parked. Through the windshield I could see him bottom-up, reaching for something on the floor in the back of the cab. He returned to an upright position right as I reached the driver’s side door and almost jumped right out of his skin when he saw me.

  “Claren, what are you doing here?!” he asked quietly. He was angry, and anxiety coursed through my body. Something wasn’t right. “I told you to wait outside.”

  “I know, but I thought you might need some help,” I said. That was my original intention after all. He didn’t need to know that I was now just really curious to find out what he was doing in the back of the cab.

  “Well I don’t,” he snapped. “So go back out there. I’ll be finished up in a second.”

  I gave him a look that let him know I wasn’t going anywhere, and he let out an exasperated sigh.

  “Fine. But if you’re gonna stand there, do me a favor. Look around the backside of the truck and let me know if you see anyone.”

  Whatever he was up to, it wasn’t anything good. I always knew when Cato was on edge, and it seemed to be pretty constant lately. I nodded and tiptoed around the side of the truck. Not that it mattered. The sound of my shoes crunching on the gravel couldn’t be any louder than my shouting had been.

  There wasn’t a person in sight. The sanitation headquarters was right on the edge of Morton borough, and people tried to stay as far away from the edge as possible. It was much too close to the Outside for comfort. But I’d been coming down to the pond off and on ever since Dad left two years ago, and I had never seen an Outsider. I figured there wasn’t much they would be interested in on this side of the borough.

  I turned back to Cato. “All clear!”

  He disappeared back into the truck and reemerged holding a black trash bag, about half full. Ew. Why was that in the cab instead of the back of the truck?

  Cato glanced around nervously as he made his way to the chain-link fence on the north edge of the parking lot. His sanitation truck was perfectly blocking his view from the main road, and he crept down to an area where the trees thickened on the other side of the fence. With a swing of his strong arms, he threw the bag up and over the fence, into the thick brush on the other side.

  He turned and jogged back toward the entrance calling, “Let’s go,” over his shoulder as he passed me. I caught up quickly and didn’t say a word as he locked the gate behind us and we turned the corner back to our house. His trepidation was palpable as we moved along, and I instinctively took in our surroundings, hoping with everything I had that no one saw that little incident.

  Cato didn’t exactly have a clean rap sheet. It’s not that he was some violent criminal, but he had a bad habit of acting without considering the consequences. Like the time he punched Sully Bryant for pushing me into Dirkum Creek, or when he stole back and retur
ned the lunch money Mag Thompson bullied away from my best friend Sela when we were ten for example. I was still a little bitter about the Sully thing. I’m pretty sure he was just flirting with me, and I was looking forward to taking a dip with him in that creek. But either way, I think Cato’s heart was usually in the right place.

  Regardless, I’d been to the juvenile courts with him several times over the years. He was basically an expert in community service at this point. I suspected that’s how he wound up getting selected for sanitation services as a Worker last year after his aptitude test. Thankfully he’d been on his best behavior after his placement. The adult courts were much harsher.

  We walked together in silence for about twenty yards before I finally spoke.

  “Sooo, care to tell me what that was all about?”

  Cato looked at me, his hazel eyes filled with mystery. Our eyes were one feature we shared. We had our mother to thank for that. But Cato’s hair was a shade lighter than mine, more like wheat than my darker shade of honey. He was short for a man, about the same height as me, and very stout. But his body was all muscle. He wore his straight hair long on top, sticking up in the front. And his face was scruffy, giving him a much less refined appearance than what I typically attempted for myself.

  “Nah, I’m good,” he said, returning his gaze to the road ahead.

  “Are you though? Because I’m pretty sure throwing trash into the forest isn’t something most people would consider ‘good.’”

  “It’s not trash.”

  “Oh yeah?” My curiosity piqued. “Well whether it’s trash or treasure in that bag, you’re not supposed to litter. You know you could get into big trouble if anyone saw you.”

  Cato looked at me again, searching my eyes. I sensed sadness mixed with anger, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was running through his mind.

  “I’ll get it later,” he said. “After dark.”

  My heart skipped a beat. I had never seen any Outsiders in the area during the day, but I wouldn’t dare to walk around that forest at night.

  “That’s a terrible idea. Let’s just go back and grab it now. I can—”

  “No. I’m not letting you anywhere near that bag,” Cato said firmly. “Promise me you’ll stay away from it.”

  His tone left me no doubt about the seriousness of the matter. I didn’t know what was in the bag, but I knew it wasn’t something meant for me. I was certain it wasn’t meant for Cato either.

  I stared my brother down, trying to determine if I had any wiggle room. His jaw was set and his shoulders tense. Normally I could read his emotions fairly well, but he wouldn’t make eye contact with me. All I could feel was a thick tension in the air between us. It didn’t seem as though he would relent.

  “I’ll stay away,” I said. “But only if you promise you won’t go back after dark. It’s way too dangerous.”

  Cato’s shoulder relaxed ever so slightly. “I can’t promise that. Some things can only happen after dark. I can’t let anyone see me with that bag. Just trust me on this.”

  Cato had a tendency to be overly dramatic at times, but I believed him on this. A million thoughts ran through my mind about the contents of the bag. There’s no way it was just trash. They took that to the recycling center every day before returning to headquarters with the trucks. Surely he hadn’t stolen something. My brother may be reckless, but he was no thief.

  Whatever it was, Cato needed it to stay hidden. The consequences wouldn’t be good for him if he was sent back to the courts as an adult. With a juvenile record and our family’s history with the law, I feared the judges wouldn’t hesitate to exile him to the Outside. The thought made me shiver.

  “Okay,” I finally responded. “But please be careful, Cato. I don’t know what I would do if you...” my voice trailed off as memories of Dad came rushing through my mind. Pushing them back down, I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried to finish my thought. “I just need you to be careful, okay? I need you.”

  Cato’s expression softened. The thick air between us felt physically lighter, and I knew my brother was still on my side.

  The streetlights kicked on as we were walking, and as though that was his cue, Cato’s somber expression broke into his enormous goofy trademark grin.

  “Well you know what I need?” he said. “Pizza. And the first one there gets to pick the toppings.”

  He sprinted away before I could object. Luckily Sofio’s Pizzeria was only a couple more blocks ahead. Cato’s endurance was impressive, but my speed over short distances could take him any day.

  —————

  I lay in bed that night with a belly full of my favorite veggie lover’s pizza, but it may as well have been a pretzel with the way my nerves twisted tighter and tighter inside.

  The walls of our small home were thin, so of course I heard when Cato slipped out the back door about half an hour after I went to bed. There was no way I’d be able to get to sleep knowing he was stomping through the forest so close to the Outside at this time of night. It was too easy to get carried away with horrible what-ifs, so I tried to direct my thoughts to the aptitude test instead.

  In nine hours I would be sitting in the gymnasium with the other two hundred fifty seniors in my class. We would all take the same test—one that is impossible to study and prepare for. And within a week we would learn what the rest of our lives would look like. Many of us would step directly into our new careers. Some of us would be selected to go into additional training.

  I prayed that I would be in the latter group.

  When I was a young girl, my mom would sit and describe the lives she touched as a Healer with such passion. She would say, “Listen to me, Claren. Understanding what it is that people are feeling and really needing instead of just listening to what they think they need makes all the difference.” She would place her fingers on my heart and look at me with such understanding and wisdom. I knew then that I wanted to be a Healer, just like my mom.

  Now that she was gone, I wanted it even more. I craved that connection to her, as though somehow it would bring her back. But nothing would bring her back. The Outsiders made sure of that.

  I might just be able to save Cato, though. As a Healer, I would be offered housing closer to the Center of the city. Our family name could move back into society’s good graces, and I may be able to get my brother away from the edge. I knew he struggled with Dad’s exile, and working so close to the edge every day was torture for him. The Outside almost seemed to be calling to him.

  If I moved closer to the Center, I may be able to request that my brother, the last remaining member of my family, be moved closer to me as well. And with Cato away from all of the memories and influences that haunted him near our home, he might be able to move forward with his life. I hoped he could at least stay out of trouble. But first he would have to return home from that awful forest near the sanitation headquarters.

  Some rustling in the bushes outside interrupted my thoughts. I rushed over to the window and breathed a sigh of relief when I saw my brother standing from the boxwood at the edge of our back patio. It must have broken his fall from jumping the fence. And when he pulled that stupid black trash bag out from the bush I realized why he’d returned through the back rather than the front. He should not have brought it home.

  I scurried quickly back to my bed as he unlocked the back door and lightly stepped his way back to his room. The mystery contents of that bag would have to wait for another day. I had to get some rest for my test in the morning.

  CHAPTER 2

  I awoke to an erratic symphony of clanging dishes coming from the kitchen. Groggily rubbing the sleep from my eyes, I stepped out into an unlikely scene. Cato stood at the stove, broken eggshells littering the only two square feet of empty counter space we had in our tiny kitchen. He looked up with that huge smile of his, obviously proud of the work he was doing.

  “Hey, Sis. Want some eggs?” He scooped a fluffy yellow pile onto an empty plate for me. I had to ad
mit, they looked much better than I expected coming from a guy who struggled even to make his daily peanut butter sandwiches.

  “What’s all this about?” I asked, pushing the food around on my plate in search of stray eggshells.

  “You’ve got a big day ahead of you. Besides, you’re always stepping up for me. I thought I’d do something nice for you for a change.”

  He met my eyes, and I understood this was his way of thanking me for not putting up a fight about the bag yesterday. I hadn’t forgotten. He definitely had some questions to answer, but it would have to wait until after my test.

  “Thanks.” I took a small bite of the eggs. They were a little bland, but he nailed the texture. Nicely done, Cato.

  “So are you ready for the test?” he asked, sliding into the seat across from me at our table.

  “I’m as ready as I can be, I guess. There’s really not much I can do. Just show up and show them what I know.”

  “Basically, yeah,” Cato said through a giant mouthful of eggs. “But it’s less about what you know, and more about how you think. Be prepared to answer lots of questions about yourself. You know, would you rather read a book or take a walk? That kind of stuff.”

  Cato rolled his eyes and shoveled another forkful of eggs into his mouth. He never cared much for this process. We all knew Cato was going to be selected as a Worker last year when he took the test. He was too much of a free-spirit to specialize in anything. And I wasn’t sure if he had enough focus to stick with any single occupation, anyway.

  “You know it’s about more than that,” I said. “It’s a big deal. This test will determine how I spend the rest of my life. I might be able to change things for us.”

  I, on the other hand, probably cared about the test a little too much. But maybe if I made my case, Cato and I could meet somewhere in a healthy middle.

  “Nothing is going to change. We know how you’re going to spend the rest of your life. You’re gonna get a job, like all the rest of us. Maybe you’ll move a mile or two closer to the Center, but it really won’t make a difference. You’ll make the standard wage, live in a standard house, get matched with some standard dude so you can have two standard kids, and continue the circle...”