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

by AR Colbert

  “I have alerted the Protectors, and they will be escorting you all home. We have Counselors on standby if any of you need to process what just took place. Otherwise, please go home and rest. We will resume the tests tomorrow at 9:00 A.M.”

  She hesitated, looking down briefly at the body on the floor. “I’m glad you’re all safe. Now let’s focus on the future and forget the past. For the Greater Good!”

  “For the Greater Good.” Our response was much less enthusiastic this time.

  My feet remained still, cemented to the ground as the scene unraveled around me. Groups of students huddled in corners and around the tables, comforting one another. There were both whispers and shouts, tears and excitement as the students recounted their unique viewpoints of the situation. Several Protectors had arrived, and they placed a large tarp over the body on the floor. My heart ached as I remembered his eyes urging me to stay back.

  Sela was sitting against the wall near our table, face red and cheeks wet with tears. Finally able to move, I turned to rush toward her, but a hand grabbed my arm and stopped me. It was the same man who had been watching me during my test.

  “I’m afraid I can’t let you go,” he said. “Come with me.”

  CHAPTER 4

  I never knew silence could be so loud.

  I sat alone in the security office. The four walls surrounding me were a sickly greenish shade of white. A simple fixture with a single bulb of flickering light hung from the ceiling over a table and two chairs in the center of the room. The rest of the room was completely empty.

  I had been sitting alone in there for probably twenty minutes. The previous three hours played on repeat in my mind. Cato’s grumpy breakfast. Sela’s smile. The test. The Outsider. His body on the floor. The man who never looked away from me. His firm grip on my arm as he dragged me out of the gym like a criminal.

  He never told me why I was being taken away. He’d simply guided me into the back of a sleek black car parked in front of the school and locked the doors. It was both exhilarating and terrifying. Like most citizens of New America, I had never been in a car before. They were generally reserved for the Leaders. The rest of us used buses and trains designed for public transportation, though Cato did let me ride around the block in the sanitation truck once last fall.

  But this car was different. The tiny backseat left me feeling claustrophobic, especially since I didn’t know where I was going or why I was being taken away.

  Emmaline and the man had spoken outside my window. Her expression had been serious as he waved his arms with great animation. Finally she nodded, and they climbed wordlessly into the car. They ignored my questions during our ride. The only words spoken from the front seat had come from Emmaline. “You’re not in trouble,” she’d said. “We just need to ask you a few questions.”

  But it sure felt like I was in trouble as I sat alone in an interrogation room at the security office for our borough.

  After several more minutes ticked by, the door moved and I sat up taller in my chair. Emmaline walked in, followed by the mystery man who brought me there and an officer of the Protectors.

  “Hello, Claren,” she said with a syrupy sweet smile. Up close her appearance was even more flawless. Her eyes were large and round, crystal blue and framed by long dark lashes. Her skin was blemish-free, a stark contrast to the freckles that dotted my nose.

  Emmaline took the seat across from me while the men stood on either side of her. My heart rate picked up again with her so close to me. She’d shot a man in cold blood, and now she was smiling across the table from me.

  “You needn’t be afraid,” she said with a genuine expression. “In fact, I want to thank you. If you hadn’t gone after the criminal when you did, I’m afraid he might have done much more damage.”

  I looked down at the table, unsure of how to accept her gratitude. She didn’t wait for me to respond.

  “But what I want to understand, is how you knew who he was and what he was planning.”

  I met Emmaline’s eyes, and they were soft and curious. She wasn’t angry or accusing at all.

  “I didn’t.” No one responded, but I didn’t want to elaborate. There wasn’t much to say. How do you explain to someone that you just felt nervous? I didn’t know what he was planning. I just knew he was the source of my sudden anxiety.

  With the anxiety stirring up again inside me now, I tried to distract myself, picking at my nails, waiting for the questioning to be over. After a long pause, Emmaline spoke again.

  “Then why did you go after him?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered honestly. My feet moved before I knew what was happening. It’s not like I was trying to be a hero, my body just reacted.

  Again no one spoke, and I grew less comfortable in the silence with each passing second. My right leg started bouncing on the ball of my foot and I shoved my hands tightly between my knees in an effort to stop fidgeting. I scanned the walls again for a clock that I knew I wouldn’t find. It had to be past lunchtime.

  “What did you see?” Emmaline finally asked. “Before you stood. What did you see the man do?”

  “He was reaching for the knife in his bag.”

  “And how did you know the knife was there?”

  “I saw the handle when he was trying to get the bag open behind him.”

  “Why were you watching him open his bag?”

  “I don’t know. I guess he caught my attention when I saw his arm move.” My frustration was rising. These questions were pointless. She already knew he had a knife. Who cared about how he got it out of the bag? And why was she so interested in me? I didn’t do anything.

  “But why were you looking around at all? Why weren’t you looking at your exam?”

  “I don’t know!”

  She was quiet again after my outburst, but I didn’t care. I’d had enough of her interrogation. I just wanted to get out of there so I could breathe freely again. Please let me go home.

  The mystery man tilted his head toward Emmaline and returned his eyes to me. Emmaline sat back in her chair.

  “Dante, Officer Wharton, would you please give us a moment?” Both men nodded and moved swiftly toward the exit.

  “I know you’re frustrated, but this is important,” she said, placing her hand in the center of the table. If she expected me to reach out and take it, she was wrong.

  “Claren, please look at me.”

  I lifted my head to meet her gaze. She held her lips in a thin line, appraising me. Her eyes were searching mine like Cato’s had earlier. But she seemed to be reading me, gathering information and assessing it, where Cato’s search had been fruitless. Uncomfortable with what she might discover, I turned away. It was foolish to think this woman was reading my thoughts. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to look back to her eyes.

  “I’m not a mind reader,” she said.

  Well that did it. My face snapped back to her like a rubber band on a newspaper. She smiled.

  “I don’t know exactly what you’re thinking,” she continued. “But I do know what you’re feeling. I can read your emotions quite well, actually.”

  My pulse quickened again and I willed it to slow down. I didn’t want Emmaline to have the satisfaction of toying with my emotions and knowing she had succeeded. But I was curious to learn more.

  “And I think you have a knack for it as well.”

  I paused to consider her words. Looking at Emmaline, it was impossible to know how she was feeling. Maybe she was emotionless. Or maybe she was flat wrong in her assessment. I didn’t know what reading someone’s emotions would entail, but I was pretty sure it wasn’t something I could do.

  I shook my head. “I don’t think so Ms. Frasier.”

  She reached further across the table and took my hand. I started to pull away, but something stopped me. I felt a sense of calmness, and an urge to linger a little longer and take it all in. She held my hand in the middle of the table and I delighted in the peace that had washed over me.

&nb
sp; “How do you feel right now?” she asked.

  I sighed. “I feel fine.”

  She let go, and my shoulders immediately tensed. Maybe that was the wrong answer. I hoped she wasn’t upset.

  “I want you to close your eyes and remember. I know it sounds silly, but humor me. How did you feel before you saw the Outsider reach for that knife?”

  Not wanting to upset her any further, I obeyed.

  “I had just finished the second section of my exam. I was still a little flustered by that man you were with. He was staring at me.” I opened one eye, but Emmaline’s face remained blank.

  “Dante,” she said. “Go on.”

  “Anyway, my shoulders were tight, so I took a minute to stretch. But it just got worse. I felt... I don’t know. Nervous, I guess. And then I saw the Outsider, but I didn’t know he was an Outsider. Honestly, I didn’t.” I added the last part quickly. Emmaline didn’t seem concerned about my involvement, but then she was also incredibly difficult to figure out. I didn’t want to leave any kind of doubt in her mind about my innocence in this matter.

  “And I felt a surge of adrenaline when I looked at him. I knew something wasn’t right. Then I saw the knife, and I reacted before I even knew what was happening.”

  I opened my eyes quickly. I didn’t want the memory to continue. We both knew what had happened next.

  Emmaline pursed her lips, choosing her next words carefully. “Did you consider that surge of emotion you felt may have come from him?”

  My brows turned up in confusion. “No ma’am. I wouldn’t have thought that was possible.”

  “Do you feel strong emotions a lot? If you’re speaking with someone who is angry or sad, for example, do you experience those same feelings?”

  “Well sure,” I said. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  Emmaline smiled widely and placed her hands back on the table. “No, Claren. Everyone does not. Not as strongly as I think you do, anyway.

  “Dante was watching you closely through the exam because he noticed the fluctuations in your emotions and thought you may be an Empath. I apologize if he made you uncomfortable with his stares. I’ll need to speak with him about his subtlety. But he was correct in his assessment.”

  There was nothing subtle about his stares. And I had no idea what an Empath was, but I knew I wasn’t one.

  “I’m sorry, Ms. Frasier. But there’s been some kind of misunderstanding. I’m just a normal girl.”

  “You’re anything but normal, Claren. Think of your empathy as an aptitude of sorts. And a rare one at that. Your ability to understand what people are feeling is very valuable.”

  This was crazy. There was no way my ability to feel extra sad or nervous was valuable in any way. What she was saying couldn’t have been true, and even if it was, which it wasn’t, it would be more of a hindrance than a help.

  I put my face down into my hands and mumbled. Hopefully this Empath thing wouldn’t get in the way of my career selection. Then again, maybe it could help. Would empathy be useful as a Healer? I couldn’t feel their physical pain, but maybe I could treat patients better if I understood how they were feeling emotionally. It would certainly be more useful as a Healer than a Worker. Maybe I could use that to my advantage. Emmaline was in charge of career development, after all.

  “Does the exam screen for empathy?” I was hopeful. “Because if so, I think I could be really useful as a Healer.”

  Emmaline tilted her head, a sad smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “It does. It did. That’s what Dante and some of the others were watching for. And you passed. But Empaths are not selected as Healers.”

  “But I didn’t finish my test,” I protested. I can go back tomorrow and finish with the rest of my class.”

  “That won’t be necessary. We’ve already identified your greatest aptitude.” Emmaline sat tall with a straight face. Any evidence of our casual communication from the previous few minutes was gone. She’d put her invisible Leader hat back on.

  “Claren Greenwood, you have been selected for further training as a Peacemaker. Your official letter will arrive next week with the others, but I would like you to begin preparing now. The training is rigorous, and will therefore begin before the other specializations. You have two weeks.”

  A Peacemaker. Just when I thought the day couldn’t get any crazier, I was selected for a career placement closer to the Center than I could have possibly dreamed. Cato was going to be thrilled.

  “Being selected for this program is a great honor, as you must know. But with it comes certain responsibilities. The first, and most important duty you have in this moment is to guard your identity as an Empath with your life. No one must know.”

  That was fine. I didn’t really want anyone fussing over me about it anyway.

  “And second, you must realize that space near the Center walls is extremely limited. As such, you will go alone. Your family must remain in their current housing, while you move into a group house with fellow trainees.”

  I allowed her words to soak in, and the color drained from my face. I couldn’t leave Cato behind, not in his current state of mind. He was so unhappy with our circumstances. More than once, I’d heard him wonder aloud about life in the Outside. He spoke often of Dad, but the thought of him chasing our father out into a world full of chaos and criminals was enough to make me stay. He needed me. I had to keep him grounded.

  “Can I think about it?” I asked.

  Emmaline was taken aback, her professional expression giving way to a brief look of concern. But she quickly regained her composure.

  “As I mentioned, you have two weeks. But you will not retake the exam. If you choose to forgo the Peacemaker training, you will be assigned to whatever position remains among the Workers after the others have been assigned.”

  Silent understanding passed between us. The most coveted Worker positions in offices or upscale establishments were filled first by the brightest and most qualified of the Workers. The last positions to be filled were often the least desirable. Turning down the Peacemaker position would leave me digging ditches or pumping sewage. But if that’s what it took to keep Cato safe...

  “Am I clear?”

  I nodded.

  “Very well then. You will receive your letter next week, and your response will be greatly anticipated. I hope we can talk again soon.”

  Emmaline stood and extended her hand. I followed suit, and with a quick handshake she was gone.

  CHAPTER 5

  Our kitchen was small, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Without ever moving my feet I could grab carrots from the refrigerator, rinse them in the sink, and chop them on our butcher block countertop. It was very efficient.

  I wished I had some bacon I could prepare to add some protein to our soup, but it had been twelve days since Cato’s last paycheck. Money was always tight towards the end of a pay period. Yes, the standard wage was designed to cover food and basic needs for every member in each household, but when we did things like splurge on pizza we had to be careful with what little money we had remaining. So we would have to enjoy our baked potato soup sans bacon that night.

  Cato entered the living room with a slam of the door. Anxious to tell him about the craziness of my day, I quickly wiped my hands on my apron and turned to greet him. But Cato wasn’t in the mood to chat. He didn’t even comment on the scent of the vegetables simmering in chicken stock on the stovetop, and potato soup was his favorite.

  “Hey!”

  “I’m going to hop in the shower,” Cato said, storming past me.

  What was his problem? If anyone had a reason to be upset today it was me. Word about the Outsider sneaking into the aptitude test must have made its way through the entire borough by now. Surely he’d heard. If nothing else, he could’ve at least asked how the test went.

  If I would have known Cato was going to be such a grump I would have gone over to Sela’s house for dinner. I was anxious to see how she was doing after this afternoon anyway. Sh
e looked so upset when I was dragged out after the test.

  But since I was home I figured I’d better make the best of it. I grabbed some scissors and stepped out the back door onto the small patio behind our kitchen. The evening sky was clear, and I could see stars beginning to sparkle in the east while purple and pink light still danced across the sky on the western horizon. The cool air on my face was a welcomed change from the hot stovetop inside.

  Four small pots lined neatly along the wall of the patio brought a smile to my face. We may not have bacon, but at least we’d have some fresh herbs for our soup.

  Gardening was frowned upon in New America. The government operated large farms for us that could produce food much more economically than the small operations that farmers ran long ago. Most people in the cities had no idea how to grow food of any kind, and there wasn’t room for it in our little yards even if they did. But my mom knew how. And she always said the best way to make an ordinary meal extraordinary was to add some fresh herbs. I clipped some parsley from a small plant, grateful that she taught me how to overwinter and reseed them each year.

  Cato reemerged as I was rinsing the leaves back inside. He rubbed a thin gray towel back and forth over his wet hair and left it to rest on his shoulders around the back of his neck. Then he set his sights on me, his expression grave.

  “I heard about the exam,” he said.

  “I figured you would have. It was a pretty eventful morning.”

  Cato scoffed and sat down at the table. I set the parsley on the counter and joined him. Something was obviously on his mind and I wasn’t going to let him keep brushing me off. Maybe if I kept talking he’d shake it off and get back to fun Cato. I really needed fun Cato.

  “No one even noticed the Outsider at first,” I continued. “He was a younger guy, maybe a couple of years older than you, and I think everyone was so stressed about the exam that they didn’t realize he wasn’t a student. He was clean and dressed like any of the rest of us.”