Pearl's Number: The Number Series

by Bethany Atazadeh

  Evalene studied the man they’d met less than 24 hours ago. Her mother had trusted him. Enough to marry him. Evalene realized she didn’t truly know her mother anymore, but that vote of confidence would have to be enough. Maybe he was a Godsend. Or maybe she was about to place her trust in the worst possible person.

  All she knew was that if he was telling the truth, there was no time to waste. She placed her hands on her knees and stood, looking up at Sol. “Let’s get going, we’re in a hurry.” He nodded and restarted the engine, pulling back onto the road. Evalene turned to Noble where he still sat on the floor. In a tone that brooked no argument, she told him, “We’re coming with you.”

  30

  Jeremiah

  THEY PASSED A SIGN that said: Lilyvale, 1 mile, and turned their focus toward solving their immediate problem. Getting gas.

  As Sol drove, they gathered around the front cab where Noble described the details of his plan. Jeremiah was skeptical. But Noble promised he’d done it successfully before.

  They’d play it casual. Pull into the station at the furthest pump, fill up the tank, and then once the bus was ready to go, Noble would cause a scene, pulling the store owner’s attention away from the filling station long enough for the others to drive away unnoticed. They would then pull over a few blocks down the road and wait for him to catch up. Simple.

  “I’ll say something like, ‘The pricing here is like stealing from my grandmother’ and that’ll be your cue,” Noble told them. To Evie, he added, “That’s a real insult actually. My grannie’s pretty savvy. Maybe you’ll get to meet her someday.” She laughed at his joke. Jeremiah pulled away from their little circle to pace. Just imagining Evie staying behind, after all this was said and done, upset him. Could he even remotely see himself living here? His whole life’s focus had been helping those in Eden. But what was the alternative? Evie returning to Eden because Pearl was dead. He didn’t want that either. It was a no-win situation.

  “It’d be best if you didn’t even start the engine up again,” Noble was saying, not noticing Jeremiah’s distress. “The four of you should be able to get it moving without a problem. Just push this beast down the road until it’s out of sight. That works 99% of the time.”

  “What about the other 1%?” Olive asked.

  “Well, then you all pile in and step on it,” Noble said, shrugging. Jeremiah pursed his lips, bringing his attention back to the present. He hadn’t stolen anything since he was kid, since Beryl had taken him in. But they had no other options. No money, nothing to trade besides the food. If they didn’t fill up soon, they’d be stranded.

  The bus sputtered, slowing down as the town appeared up ahead around the corner. Everyone groaned as the bus came to a stop.

  Jeremiah opened his mouth, but Noble spoke first, “Let’s get out and push.”

  He stood, exiting through the side door, and the girls followed. Sol stayed in the driver’s seat to steer, throwing the bus into neutral. “You alright?” Sol asked when Jeremiah paused longer than he’d meant to.

  “Yeah, yeah… You trust Noble?”

  Sol didn’t answer right away. “He’s… emotional…” That was an understatement. “But maybe that’s a good thing, because he can’t really hide anything from us.”

  “Good point.” Jeremiah nodded to himself.

  Evie poked her head back inside the door of the bus, “You coming?”

  “Yeah, be right there,” he said, and as he followed her out, he nodded to Sol, “Thanks.”

  They circled to the back of the big vehicle and began to push.

  It was slow going.

  Fortunately, they were traveling downhill. Gravity picked up the pace until they found themselves jogging behind the bus to keep up. By the time Sol pulled into the gas station, they were out of breath.

  Per Noble’s instructions, their aim was to go unnoticed. But the massive bus pulling into the station with four people running behind it unfortunately drew a lot of eyes. Jeremiah realized the slavers probably had a reputation around the area, including their strange vehicles. Still, the group tried to act according to plan.

  Evie was closest to the pump, so she calmly walked up to it and began filling the bus. Olive and Noble casually sauntered after her, climbing back inside the bus to wait. Jeremiah stood on the far side, pausing to gaze at the woods around them, and the tiny houses all clustered along this one main street in the tiny town.

  A big blue pickup truck pulled up directly behind them while he still stood there staring. The truck door swung open, and Jeremiah read the sign painted on the side: “Moo’s Milk.” Jeremiah stiffened when the driver met his gaze, but the man just slammed his door, wandering toward the restrooms on the side of the gas station, grabbing a newspaper on his way, like he planned to be awhile.

  Jeremiah had taken two steps around the back of the bus, when the gas station door slammed open, crashing into the wall. He froze. The store owner stomped out, headed directly toward him, where he stood between the bus and the blue truck.

  “Are you here with my dairy order?” the store owner shouted at Jeremiah, even though he was only a half dozen feet away. The fat little man ignored the bus and Evie filling it up altogether, zeroing in on Jeremiah.

  The store owner continued to advance. Glancing at the truck behind him, Jeremiah thought quickly. Walking up to the truck, he leaned against the front bumper and crossed his arms. This put the little man’s back to their bus where Evie was still filling up, when the store owner arrived in front of Jeremiah.

  “That depends,” Jeremiah replied slowly, unsure how to make the conversation last. Glancing up, he found Noble’s head sticking out of the bus door, staring at him. Jeremiah turned back to the store owner and frowned, raising his voice so Noble would hear him.

  “The pricing here is ridiculous,” he snapped at the red-faced man, forcing himself to get into character. “I wouldn’t bring my own grandmother here!” The phrasing felt awkward; if the store owner had known him at all, he would’ve seen right through him.

  But out of the corner of his eye, Jeremiah saw Noble nod and wave at the cue. A moment later, he saw the group climb out of the bus silently, shuffling around to the rear, right behind the store owner’s back, and begin to push.

  Evie bit her lip, worrying for him but going along with it, while Sol just gave him a nod of confidence. Olive poked her head out from the driver’s side to glance back at him once before she started to steer them out of the parking lot.

  Meanwhile, the store owner’s face was turning a bright shade of red. “I don’t appreciate your insinuation!” he barked at Jeremiah. “If I didn’t have such a high demand for dairy products, I would end our business right this second!”

  The bus had barely gained any momentum. It silently began to roll forward one foot, then another.

  “You think I want to work with you?” Jeremiah protested to buy time. His mind searched for something that would hold the store owner’s attention. “I heard you’re involved in the human BioGrade experiments,” he said the first thing that came to mind. “I refuse to do business with someone who believes in that industry.”

  The store owner sputtered and protested loudly, drawing attention from onlookers. “I would never! Who gave you that information?!” He yelled louder as he saw others listening, “I demand to know who would tarnish my good name!”

  The enormous bus began picking up speed, nearing the end of the tiny gas station parking lot, about to pull out onto the street. No one paid it any attention. All eyes were on Jeremiah and the store owner.

  Put on the spot once more, Jeremiah leaned into the truck, hoping its true owner wouldn’t choose that moment to come out of the restroom. He struggled to look indifferent, shrugging. “You don’t know?” he asked, thinking hard for something he could say.

  The store owner pressed him. “Tell me!”

  “It’s not just one person,” Jeremiah stalled, searching his mind desperately for a name that would stump the man. The bus w
as on the street now. Thanks to the hill, gravity was helping once more, but they still had at least a dozen more feet to the corner.

  “I swear, if you don’t tell me who pulled the fox-fleece over your eyes,” the store owner swung around to pace, turning toward where the bus was disappearing. “I’m gonna–”

  “Luc,” Jeremiah said abruptly, to bring the small man’s attention back to him and away from the bus. It pulled slowly out of sight around the corner. “It was Luc.” The name of his childhood friend back home. And also a common name back in Eden.

  “That son of a bio-freak,” the store owner growled, shaking with rage. Apparently the name was common here too. “He would say something like that!”

  Jeremiah shrugged once, not knowing what else to say. His acting skills had reached their limit. The bus slipped out of sight around the corner, and Jeremiah just barely held back a sigh of relief. “I’m sorry,” he said to the red-faced little man, “but that’s what I heard.”

  “I’m gonna call that goat-loving piece of garbage right now and straighten this out.” The store owner stomped away toward his store, turning back only once to point a finger at Jeremiah and say, “You stay right there.” He enunciated every word. “You hear me?” Jeremiah nodded his agreement.

  But the moment the angry man flung the door of the gas station open and picked up his phone, Jeremiah shoved off the pickup truck and ran. He reached the road and kept going, running at full speed, wanting to be out of sight before the store owner hung up.

  Breathing hard, he raced down the first block and kept going, glancing back just once to confirm that the gas station was out of sight, before slowing to a jog. Another block and a half down the road, he found their bus parked on the curb, mostly hidden by a large tree.

  Out of breath, he leapt up the ladder, yanking open the door to four tense faces. Jeremiah grinned. “So,” he said. “That’s how you do a hiffy.” They burst out laughing and cheered as he climbed inside.

  Sol revved the engine and took off down the road, while Jeremiah hopped up onto the counter next to Evie, leaning back against the wall and taking a deep breath of relief.

  “That was impressive,” Evie said to him, when the others were distracted and they had a moment to themselves.

  “You think so?” he said, grinning. “It went better than I expected. But maybe let’s never do that again.” Evalene laughed with him.

  She scooted slightly closer, and he responded by sliding closer to her until their legs were touching. He hesitated, thinking of all the unknowns in their future, before reaching out to where her hand rested on her knee and gently picking it up to hold in his own. He turned it over and played idly with her fingers.

  Though the others were only a few feet away, he spoke in a low voice, meant for just the two of them. “How do you feel, now that we’ve finally found your mother?”

  “It’s strange…” Evalene said softly. She shook her head. “Honestly, it doesn’t feel real.” She hesitated. “Technically, we still haven’t found her.”

  Jeremiah tightened his grip on her hand, squeezing in comfort. “We will.”

  But Noble cleared his throat loudly. They’d grown silent up front, overhearing their conversation. “I actually wanted to talk to you about that,” Noble said, pausing to look at his hands. “Pearl’s been gone nearly two weeks. The first week she would’ve been with a slaver convoy, and it would’ve taken just a little planning to rescue her. But now…” he drifted off, clearing his throat once, then again, trying to speak without emotion. “By now, she’s in Archland. That’s a whole different world up there. There’s no telling what we’ll find.”

  “What do you mean?” Evalene asked. Jeremiah rubbed her hand slightly, wanting to reassure her, but not knowing how. He had no clue what they were up against.

  “It’s not looking good,” Noble said. The grim look on his face stretched his scar thin and long. “We don’t have much intel on what happens once they’re taken into Archland…” he paused for a moment, as if there was something he wasn’t telling them. “Let’s just say they usually only have a week once they’re inside the territory—two at most.”

  As Olive opened her mouth to ask what he meant, Noble shook his head. “We don’t know the details. We don’t know much of anything besides what I’ve already told you. But whatever they do, we know that sooner or later, it always kills them.”

  31

  Pearl

  AT THE SOUND OF the strange woman’s voice behind her, Pearl swung around. She was far from alone in her cell. Four other women lounged on rickety bunk beds lining the walls of the tiny room. Three of them watched her, but the speaker lay on her back, staring at the bunk above her, playing idly with a piece of thread. “How long do you think it’ll take you to adjust, on a scale of one to ten?” Her voice was nasal and brisk. “One being right away and ten being never? I just need a ballpark so I can prepare myself mentally.”

  Frowning, Pearl didn’t answer. Instead, she studied the women around her, absently touching her neck where it stung. She could feel the lump of the barcode where they’d inserted her new Number. It doesn’t mean anything, she told herself, trying hard to believe it.

  The women facing her all wore threadbare clothing. Clearly comfort wasn’t a priority here at the BioLabs. Something struck Pearl as odd about the women, but she couldn’t put her finger on it.

  When the woman who’d spoken rolled over to sit up and face her, it hit her. All the women in this room were pale, middle-aged, blue-eyed brunettes. Just like her.

  When the speaker stood to face her though, some differences stood out in sharp contrast. She stood four or five inches shorter than Pearl and had a massive number of freckles dotting her nose and cheeks. “I’m Moira,” she said in that nasal tone and waited.

  “Pearl.”

  “I take it you’re quick to adapt. Seeing as how you’re already done screeching.”

  Pearl didn’t know what to say to that.

  “You can have that bunk,” Moira absently pointed to the little bed on her left. “It recently opened up.”

  Pearl didn’t miss the insinuation. Panic flared. It was a new feeling that she wasn’t used to. Usually she was in control. Knew what to do. But she was terrified to realize she’d lost sight of her way out of here. The shorter woman must’ve caught a glimpse of these emotions in Pearl’s expression because she waved an arm as if to brush away a pesky thought. “Oh, relax. You’ve got time.” She paused, “Probably.”

  “Really?” Pearl breathed.

  “Maybe.” Moira shrugged. So much for being encouraging. The woman side-stepped around Pearl toward the door, peering out the tiny window into the hall with a sigh. “I’ve been here for years now, and I still can’t find any rhyme or reason to what they do half the time. But usually, usually–” Moira emphasized the word, dragging it out, “they let new ones settle for a few days before they begin any sort of treatment.”

  Treatment.

  The word held a wealth of meaning, and at the same time, meant nothing at all. Pearl had no clue what they might do to her outside of this room. Despite everything her little group had done to gather intel, that had always been a closely guarded secret.

  “Wait, did you say you’ve been here for years?” Pearl asked, still standing in the middle of the room, too stunned to move.

  “Yep.”

  No explanation followed.

  “Do you work for them?” Pearl hissed, backing up away from the shorter woman until her legs bumped into the bunk bed. She ducked before her head hit the top bunk, tense and wary of the woman across from her. The other three women in the room watched with vacant eyes, not caring what happened.

  But Moira’s face twisted bitterly. “Work for them? Never. No, I have the worst fate of all. You think you have it bad? Trust me, sister. I have it worse. You see, they won’t kill me, won’t release me from this torture, because I’m part of an ‘original test group’.” She crossed her arms, glaring at a spot on the wall
as she spoke. “They need me.”

  She scoffed at the idea, stomping over to sit on the thin bed, dropping onto it heavily enough that Pearl bounced. “Trust me, I’ve tried to get out of here that way. A body bag would be a relief.”

  Pearl’s brows rose. She opened her mouth to ask more, when they heard the distinctive beep of a key card unlocking their door. Instinctively, Pearl moved to stand. This was her break. She’d knock out the guard—it would have to be a good hit since all she had was her bare hands. If there was more than one, she wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  But Moira gripped her arm in a painful hold, twisting harshly when Pearl tried to stand. “Don’t try it,” Moira hissed in her ear. The woman was strong for her size.

  “Let me go,” Pearl growled, standing anyway, dragging Moira up with her, since the woman still wouldn’t let go. The door opened to reveal not one, but four heavily armed guards, weapons at the ready. Pearl hesitated. This would take some maneuvering to avoid getting shot.

  “They’ll kill you in a heartbeat,” Moira said in her ear, so quiet Pearl barely heard her. “Why do you think we had an open bed? Hmm?” But then she unexpectedly let go, flinging Pearl’s arm away from her as if disgusted. Her voice rose to a normal level as she muttered, “You know what, do what you want, it’s better you die before I know you enough to care anyway.”

  Two guards stayed stationed outside the door, guns trained on the room, blocking the exit completely. The other two guards didn’t spare Pearl or Moira a single glance. Their attention was on a woman in the corner, who hadn’t moved once since Pearl came in. But when the guards grabbed her by the arms, it was as if she’d been on pause and someone had suddenly pressed play, coming to life all at once, shrieking and bucking in their grip. Though she fought, she was too weak. Between the two guards, they easily strapped her into the metal cart waiting outside the door to transport her, scanning her barcode as they did.