white dawn (Black Tiger Series Book 3)

by Sara Baysinger

  “Like killing people who go against the law.”

  “Yes. I was on prison duty for a while, and I was never lenient with the prisoners. I never questioned why they were in there. I didn’t dare question it. I was compelled not to.”

  I nod. Titus and his ultimate control. He made sure there were never any loopholes. The brainwashing training program for the careered was an intense session of politicians brainwashing the Proletariats.

  “But now,” Chale continues. “I feel like my mind is sharper. I’m not as forgetful as I was. I know the reason behind every decision. I used to think the fogginess was a normal way of life. But now I realize what I’ve been missing. I haven’t felt this awake since before Career Day.” He grins at me, and this might be the first time I’ve ever seen Chale this chill.

  “I will admit, I felt pretty angry when you first gave me the antitoxin. But all that anger has been corralled and directed at Titus. It’s his fault I lost decades of my life to compulsion. Chief Aurora, I know you have your reasons for keeping him alive, but if you ever decide to kill your brother, I want to be a part of the process. I want to avenge the life that I lost.”

  It’s so strange hearing this request from a Defender. Especially Chale, who has been nothing but loyal and unassuming.

  “I’m afraid a lot of people want a hand in Titus's death, but I will make sure you get a good jab in.”

  He laughs, then the most unexpected, weirdest thing happens. Defender Chale, my bodyguard, reaches out and pulls me into a hug.

  I stiffen. I’m not used to this intimacy with anyone and I’m half afraid Chale is going to kill me for being related to Titus or something. But his hug is warm and affectionate, and I find myself lifting my arms and giving in to his embrace.

  It’s strange, being this close to someone I hardly know. Titus never showed any affection, apart from those dreaded nights. Krin was the only person who ever showed any affection. But a Defender is hugging me. And I melt. My nose gets congested and my eyes are wet with tears, and I hold him tighter. I squeeze him. I realize how incredibly a therapeutic hug can be, and how we should all give hugs at least once a day.

  He kisses my forehead, and, when he pulls away, his eyes are shining. “I never had any children,” he says, his voice thick. “I think I was compelled not to want a family. But if I ever had a daughter, I would want her to be like you.”

  And his words are my undoing. The floodgates open wide and I’m weeping. Chale draws me in to another hug, allowing me to cry into his shoulder. I want to tell him that if I got to pick my father, he would be like Chale, but I can’t even speak past the sobs choking me.

  “Well isn’t this cute?”

  I pull away and turn to find Rain in the doorway. I quickly wipe away my tears, shake away my grief. He’s holding something, but I can’t tell what it is in the dark. Hope wells in my chest. “Did you find food?”

  “Was able to slip some eggs out of coop down the road, but the cows were already locked up, so no milk. Found nothing in the barn but moldy horse’s oats. But I did find a frying pan and chopped wood, so looks like fried eggs are on the menu.” He grins, then walks toward me. “However, while I was scrounging around for any hidden rations, I also found something you might be interested in.” He pulls a small book out of his back pocket and hands it to me. “It’s a journal.” He stares at me, his smile fading. “Your mother’s journal.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  AURORA

  I take the book from Rain and stare at it, entranced. I’m holding my mother’s journal. Unbelievable. Why was it hidden in the barn, of all places? I know Andrew Carter kept quiet about Mother’s identity from Ember, so maybe he didn’t want to risk Ember finding this journal and learning everything before he was ready.

  I turn on the light from my phoneband and begin reading.

  5/3

  Jonah said he will help me escape.

  I gave him the dates of Aden’s departure for Nashville last night, and he said he’ll be here. My due date is tomorrow, but I pray the babies hold off for another week.

  5/6

  I was hoping to get out of Frankfort before going into labor. I know the conditions are harsh out there, but it’s going to be so much harder getting out with two infants in hand.

  Mother must have had us at this point.

  They look so much alike, yet so different. Both were hanging by a thread after birth. I blame Aden. He got angry a few days ago and…

  Anyway. Ember was the fighter. She grasped onto life with her tiny fist and wouldn’t let go. She was the first to come into the world, and she didn’t have any trouble nursing.

  Aurora, I’m afraid, needs a little more coaxing. She’s having so much trouble, I’m afraid for her, afraid how low her days are numbered. I was going to take both girls with me, but I don’t think Aurora will make it. She’s slipping away, and fast. I don’t even know if the life-support will be enough, but I have to hope. I have to leave her behind. Krin already promised she would make sure Aurora’s taken care of.

  I’ll come back, sweet Aurora. I swear I’ll come back for you and Titus.

  I press my fist to my mouth, blink back unexpected tears, and keep reading.

  5/12

  The escape was a success.

  But my heart hurts. Oh, how I ache. I miss my other two so much. I wish I hadn’t left. I remember the days it was just Titus and me braving the world together. He was my hope, my one consolation against Aden. My one reason for living.

  My mouth drops open. It’s like Mother looked into the future and read my thoughts on Gideon. And if she loved Titus as much as I love Gideon…. I swallow the lump and keep reading.

  Walker is taking me to a house in the Community Garden. He says it’ll be safe there for a few weeks, until the chaos blows over, and then we can sneak out to Louisville. The future couldn’t look brighter. So why do I feel like I left my heart in Frankfort?

  5/14

  Life out here is certainly harder. Food is scarce, and the little the government provides isn’t very delectable. I also took for granted the hot showers I had access to every day. But I’d never go back.

  Andrew is our host. He seems nice enough. He’s friendly and open, but also angry about our flawed system. He has a lot of questions about how the government is run. He has a lot of questions about Aden. He can’t seem to understand how someone could be so cruel and inhumane. I told him neither could I.

  6/6

  Defenders are still patrolling the streets, so we won’t be traveling for a while. Ember is growing and turning into a healthy baby. I find so much joy in her presence. But I miss Titus and Aurora so much. I’ve been able to keep myself together these past few weeks, but I broke down last night by the fire.

  I look up at the fireplace, where Rain has started a small fire and is now frying the eggs while he chats with Chale. This is the same fire Mother was sitting beside. It had to be, if she was hiding in Andrew Carter’s home. She could have been sitting in this exact spot, weeping over me and Titus. My eyes burning, I continue reading.

  Andrew came to me and comforted me. He’s good at that. He makes me laugh, but also seems to understand my grief. He invited me to live with him under a new identity. It’s tempting, but, I don’t know. It all sounds too dangerous, living beneath Aden’s nose. But what sort of life will Ember live in the caverns? Louisville isn’t exactly the perfect place for a child to grow up. And if Aden ever found the Resurgence, we wouldn’t stand a chance.

  6/10

  I’ve decided to stay. I feel so much closer to Titus and Aurora here. It’s only an hour drive to Frankfort. If an opportunity arose, I could easily break in to the mansion, grab my other two children, and get out. Then we could go to Indy and always be free of Aden.

  “Eggs?” Rain hands me a bowl of scrambled eggs. I’m so hungry. Two full days of nothing is taking a toll. I accept the bowl and devour the eggs.

  “I’m feeling a
little light-headed,” Chale says as he sets his empty bowl aside. “I’m going to turn in early.”

  “I’ll take first shift,” Rain says.

  I finish my eggs, then continue reading.

  9/5

  I’m surprised to find that a few months have already passed.

  Andrew doesn’t think I should get the other two yet. He thinks it’ll put a target on my back. He thinks I need to raise Ember here—raise her as a fighter. Raise her to take down her father and replace him as chief. He thinks a lot of things.

  And maybe he’s right.

  9/24

  News arrived to the Garden last week.

  Aurora passed away last night.

  I shouldn’t have left her behind.

  I shouldn’t have left at all.

  I’m a terrible mother.

  I feel like I’m slipping away. Like a dark cloud has settled over me, waiting to devour my existence.

  It’s one thing to lose a child. It’s another to lose one when it’s your fault.

  I’m so sorry, Aurora. I’m so, so sorry I wasn’t there to hold you on your last days.

  There’s no more mention of me or Titus after that. Not one. The entries are pretty detached. Just little snippets of news. The Resurgence attacked the food bank again. Walker visited last weekend. She talks about adjusting to life on the orchard. The entries become shorter and further apart. Almost like she’s forgotten her pain, forgotten those of us she left behind. It hurts. She doesn’t talk about me, talks about Titus less, and talks about Ember and Andrew more. Years seem to fly by in sporadic, spaced-out entries. Then she talks about the new baby, Elijah, and it’s almost like he replaced our existence. My bitterness rises up to choke me. Everything Father said about Mother abandoning us comes back to haunt me, and I begin flipping toward the end, resisting the urge to slam the journal shut and throw it into the fire, when I find Ember’s name again. I lift my eyes back to the top of the entry, refocus on the words. There’s no date, but the messy handwriting reveals urgency.

  They’re coming for me. Aden was in the Garden today, and he saw me. I could run, but I know he will come after my family. That’s how Aden works. To keep my family safe, I have to turn myself in. He’ll pillage the garden until he finds me, so I need to go to him.

  Ember, when you find this, please don’t be angry with me for not telling you the truth. Don’t be angry with your father, either. I made him promise not to say a word about me or my past to you. I wanted you to hear it all from Walker. He’s coming to get you, Ember. He’ll come on Career Day to take you away from the Garden and start training you to lead.

  I already told you this, but I need you to remember: I named you Ember for a reason. Because embers are small and frail things. But given the right fuel, they can burn into flames strong enough to take down an entire city. Or in this case, country. Please make your people proud. Please, when you’re old enough, take down your father, Chief Aden.

  The next entry to Titus is twice as long.

  Titus. My son. If I had a say in things, your name would be Storm.

  You were my firstborn, the one who turned me into a mother and finally gave me hope for the future. In your eyes, I saw a leader nobler than Aden. I saw a hero who would take position as chief and bring about justice and equality. I remember holding you in my arms when you were born. I remember wiping away your tears after the nightmares as you got older. Encouraging you as you explored the world. Laughing at your mischievous antics. And finding joy at your love for music and stories. So few memories can remain from your third year, but I hope you have at least one memory left of me. I hope you remember my love and not my abandonment.

  If you haven’t been brainwashed by your father, you would have figured out that what I did was for the best of Ky. I had to get out. And I had to take one of you with me, one whom I could raise with morals and a desire to bring peace to Ky. Unfortunately, I didn’t have enough time with Ember to teach her the truth of her past or what her future holds. I wanted to wait until she was older, but it looks like I’m out of time, seeing as your father has tracked me down.

  Titus. If your father did make you believe I was cruel and careless, please know he was wrong. I loved you deeply. I still have dreams about you. I kept every photo of you from the newspaper saved and tucked away. I look at them late into the night and long for the day we’ll be reunited.

  Doesn’t look like that day will come, unless your father is cruel enough to make you watch my execution.

  But regardless as to whether you loved me or hated me, know that your father is a terrible man. That what he’s doing to Ky is inhumane. That you can change things when you become chief. I always imagined you shaking this government to create a new improved one.

  I am so sorry I left you behind. I’m sorry I never got to watch you grow. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you on your good days or bad days. I’m sorry I left you with a monster. You were the apple of his eye, and I imagine you were treated well, but still. Aden can get aggressive when he’s angry. Please don’t listen to any lies he told you. I’ve always loved you. Even if you’re the one who pulls the trigger on me in my execution, because that’s exactly the sort of thing your father would make you do, know that I still love you deeply, from the bottom of my heart.

  I love you still. And I will always love you.

  I stare at those last two paragraphs, mouth agape. Did Titus kill mother? He never said anything about it to me. But Titus has killed so many people in cold blood that it doesn’t even affect him anymore. But killing his own mother? No. He would have told me. He told me everything back before Father died.

  I swallow the lump in my throat and read farther down, surprised that the next entry is written out to me.

  Aurora.

  I am so heartbroken that I never got to know you. I’m heartbroken that neither Titus nor Ember will ever know you. I blame myself wholly for your death. If I had stayed, I know I could have kept you alive. They say a mother’s love can do miracles like that. If I was around to hold you, you would still be breathing. I am so sorry I put my freedom above your well-being.

  I know you’ll never read this, but I still have the urge to write it:

  Aurora, I had a reason for your name, too. Aurora is the roman goddess of the dawn. Dawn signifies hope. You are the dawn, Aurora. Darkness enveloped Ky for years, the hopelessness of midnight surrounds our people. But with your kinship to the leader dawns a new era. Aurora. The Rising Sun. Bringing hope to your people.

  I’m so sorry you never got your chance to shine.

  Another tear slips down my cheek. The next entries are written to Elijah, and finally Andrew, but my vision is too blurry and I can’t read them. I shut the journal and look up to find Chale sound asleep and Rain taking first shift by the window.

  He leans his hip against the windowsill, his arms crossed, and watches me.

  “You okay?” he asks in that voice that almost sounds like he doesn’t want to ask, but feels compelled to.

  I nod.

  “You’ve been reading that a long time.”

  “There’s so much here. So much I didn’t know. I mean, Jonah let me in on a lot of it. Like my supposed death. But other things…” I blink back my tears. “She talks about my name.”

  His eyes light with genuine interest now. “Really? What’d she say?”

  “Aurora is the roman goddess of the dawn, she said. Dawn represents hope. I guess she was planning on me bringing hope to our people.” I look down and read. “With her kinship to the leader dawns a new era. Aurora. The Rising Sun.” I look back at him and smile apologetically. “Sorry to disappoint you. I think my leadership has brought anything but hope.”

  He smirks then hunkers down beside me. “Time will tell, vixen.” He leans in, taps my nose. “You’ve already done more in two months than Titus has done his entire lifetime.”

  His playfulness lightens my mood. Then, to my utter astonishment, he p
laces his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close. I stiffen, but that doesn’t deter him. And it’s so uncharacteristic of him to show this sort of affection, that it actually makes me trust him. Despite the messages I saw earlier between him and Isaac, despite the fact that it wasn’t that long ago that he almost left me for dead, I feel like I can trust Rain with my life.

  And that thought alone terrifies me.

  But it also makes me see the Rain that Ember saw. It was because of me Ember died, yet Rain has been trying so hard to see past his anger. He’s set aside his hatred, went so far as to ask questions and listen with genuine openness in order to see what Ember saw. His sincerity helps me to understand his grief and rage, and I’m suddenly filled with sorrow for him. Guilt for Ember.

  “Nashville,” he says with a sigh, his voice interrupting my thoughts.

  I look at him sharply, my humor evaporating with the mention of the elite country that turned their backs on us. “What about them?”

  He pins me with his gray eyes, and it’s openness and raw honesty and a big, giant secret he’s about to drop in 3…2…

  “They have Gideon.”

  CHAPTER FORTY

  AURORA

  I wake early the next morning and sit on the step on Ember’s front porch.

  And watch the sunrise.

  Breathe. Breathe it all in.

  I close my eyes and inhale the air, still crisp. I allow the energy to fill up my lungs, flow through my muscles, ignite my bones, and surge through my veins. I feel it pour down my arms and into my fingers, burrowing into my soul.

  And I exhale back into the universe.