Jeremiah nodded his acceptance. While he sat, unable to move even if he wanted to, the men took their turns speaking on camera, pleading with the country to listen. Their words blurred together in the background for Jeremiah, as he tried to think of a solution. Larimar took over without needing to be asked, bringing in a fourth and fifth man as the first and second ran back out to fight.
After a half hour, he felt rested enough to hobble out of the camera room, through the newsroom, and down the hall towards the front door. Jeremiah watched his men fighting from the doorway. They were unable to go outside, but not letting the Regulators get any closer either. The lack of windows made the building well protected, but hard to defend, since only so many men could fit around the doorway. The rest were forced to fight outside from behind the barrier of cars, more exposed.
“I’m out!” The shout came from a woman outside. She ducked down against a car, dropping the useless weapon. “Me too,” a man said from inside by the door. But two more soldiers stepped forward, kneeling and taking their place. They fired only when necessary, to save ammunition. Where were the citizens? Had he been wrong to believe that many were dying to fight back?
“Radio Luc again,” Jeremiah started to say, not willing to give up, when a cry rose outside. He stopped and moved closer to the door to peer out. More of his men began to yell. It was a triumphant sound. From where Jeremiah stood, he couldn’t tell what was happening to cause their excitement, but the Regulators on the other side of the barrier stopped shooting, turning around to face whatever it was. After a moment, Jeremiah risked stepping up to the front door to get a better look.
Citizens of Eden were flowing down the streets towards them. Not many at first, but enough to distract the Regulators. That was all the rebels needed to get the upper hand. The fight began to turn as the Regulators were surrounded. Unarmed citizens were shot down. But more appeared to take their place. As the minutes ticked by, the Regulators began to be overwhelmed by sheer numbers.
People streamed towards them from all directions until there were more than Jeremiah could count. A sea of people from all sides, rallying, moving steadily down the streets towards the fight. Some of the Regulators began shooting into the crowd to deter them. But it only made them angry. With a growing roar, the mass of people began to run at the Regulators. No matter how many shots they got off, the people just kept coming. They were going to trample them.
Jeremiah’s men still wore the black uniforms that had served them well earlier when they’d wanted to appear as Regulators. But now as the frenzied crowd drew closer it became dangerous. “Take off the black! Take off the black!” Jeremiah screamed out at his men, ignoring the pain streaking from his back through his side and into his limbs as he tugged at his own black shirt, trying to rip it off.
A second after he began screaming, Dross and Larimar caught the hint, and joined his cries, pulling their black jackets off as well to reveal their gray and blue ship uniforms underneath. “Take off the black, men! Take it off!” They shouted, and after a moment of confusion, men began to respond, ripping the dark clothing off. Some had shirts underneath, others just stripped down to bare skin. They cheered the people on as the Regulators were completely overpowered and defeated.
Jeremiah felt something wet trickling down his back. He wiped at it with his good hand. Lifting the hand to his face, he found it covered in blood. He recognized the blackout as it came this time, but not quick enough to sit or kneel or do anything except hope that one of the men nearby would catch him before he hit the cold, hard concrete.
36
The News Station
WATCHMAN SOL DROVE EVALENE and Olive in the caged backseat of his Regulator jeep all the way to the news station. Though Sol took the long way around to be safe, driving all the way to the outskirts of the city before turning towards the station, each time they turned back into the city, they couldn’t make any headway. Roads were blocked by crowds of people filling the streets, forcing them to turn around.
The crowds stunned Evalene. There were so many people. And from what she could tell, there weren’t even any rebels, just regular citizens of all Number ranges. With only tiny hints of blue, black, or white in the crowd, it was mostly made up of the middle and lower classes with brown and gray featured much more heavily than the red of the merchant class.
More than once, Sol was forced to exit in reverse as the crowd spied the black Regulator symbols on the vehicle and began to chase them. Some were riled up to the point they even kept chase for a few city blocks.
Sol was in more danger than either of the girls. For Evalene and Olive, this mode of transportation was by far the safest passage in the entire city. Protected from other Regulators because they appeared to be already captured, yet safe from the rebel group as well, as their cage in the backseat showed they were on the rebel’s side.
It took almost four hours to make what would normally be just a half hour drive. By the time they reached the station, it was past noon.
Evalene recognized the street they were on as Sol took some older backroads, getting them as close to the news station as he could. “We’re going to need to walk from here,” he said as they saw crowds forming in the distance once more. Stepping out of the jeep, he helped Olive step down. Evalene jumped out before he could give her a hand too.
Then he startled the girls by pulling his black uniform shirt off. Olive looked like she might faint again. He caught them staring and shrugged, gesturing towards the throngs of people swarming down the road. “I don’t think this crowd will give me time to explain.” He dug through the back of his jeep, pulling out a piece of brown fabric and tying it around his neck. “Better safe than sorry.” Evalene nodded in understanding. Though it was a serious moment, she bit her lip to keep from smiling at the way Olive stared at the man. He was extremely fit, which made sense given his line of work, and even as serious as he was, Sol was still handsome. Maybe Olive’s crush on Luc finally had a rival.
They slowly walked the last few blocks to the news station building, pressing through the crowds. Sol paused for Olive to rest a few times, but eventually they reached their goal. Though the ugly concrete station was new, built after the war, a couple nearby brick buildings were still standing, a remnant from the old world. Evalene would never forget driving by them daily when she was young, staring at the posters of soldiers who’d fought in the last world war, the Number One’s reminder that they needed him, needed their Numbers. She suddenly had the urge to tear them down.
Two rebels stood outside on the steps of the news station, guarding the door. There was a strange barrier of twisted metal that almost looked like cars. Other soldiers stood inside this barrier, spaced out evenly, watching the crowd. All of them had guns. Every face was set in determination.
When they stepped up to the cars and Sol placed his hands on one in preparation to climb over it, guns lowered, pointing directly at him.
“Cooley!” Olive shouted, leaning in front of Sol and waving wildly, then wincing, as she put a hand to her bandaged head. Evalene grabbed her before she fell, putting Olive’s arm over her shoulder to better support her. But it worked. Every soldier recognized Olive’s face. The men brightened, giving the girls friendly smiles as they lowered their weapons.
“What are you doing here?” Cooley called as Sol helped Olive onto the hood of the nearest car first, then Evalene. Now that she was up next to the barricade she was certain they were cars. Unusual, horribly damaged cars. Were those bullet holes? Evalene’s eyes grew wide at the sight.
Cooley stepped up to help Olive down, but Sol got there first, having leapt up and over the trunk of the car next to them, already inside the barricade. Olive let him pick her up and set her on the ground.
“Who’s this?” Cooley said, slowing as he approached, eyeing Sol and not bothering to hide his suspicion. Evalene hovered above the tense triangle, waiting for them to move so she could get down too. She shouldn’t be worried for Sol. She barely knew him. But sh
e held her breath.
Olive stood shakily in front of Sol, as if trying to protect the bigger man. “This is Sol,” she told Cooley. “He’s with us.”
But Sol took off the brown bandana around his neck, not saying a word as he revealed his tattoo. “You’ll find out sooner or later,” was all he said.
Cooley took one glance at his Number 11 tattoo, then scrunched up his face in disgust and spit. The spittle landed at Sol’s feet, but the challenge hung in the air for less than a second. Sol ignored the man completely, turning to help Evalene down.
Accepting his hand, Evalene jumped off the hood of the car. Once more, there was a strained silence. “Can we go inside?” Olive asked. “I think I need a doctor.” That jump-started Cooley into action.
He jogged ahead of them while Sol and Olive shuffled towards the news station at a slower pace, and Evalene trailed after them.
As they reached the concrete steps, Evalene’s steps slowed.
Jeremiah was here.
Olive swayed a little in the doorway after climbing the steps, paling, and Watchman Sol took her elbow once more, encouraging her to lean on him. Cooley was barely containing his hatred of the Regulator. Only Olive’s condition kept him silent as he and Evalene followed them inside.
The building, much larger on the inside than the exterior had let on, was filled with empty rooms and hallways. Muffled voices floated towards them from double doors at the end of the long hall. Cooley thrust the doors open, letting them swing shut behind him and leaving Sol to open them for Olive. Evalene dawdled in the hallway, letting them go on ahead. She felt unexpectedly nervous about seeing Jeremiah.
But yells from the room a second later roused her into action. She ran up to the door and into the room. It was chock-full of desks covered in computers – she’d never seen so many in her entire life. But they faded into the background as she took in the scene.
Luc knelt on the ground, cradling Olive’s unconscious head. She must have fainted. Sol stood to the side, held back by two rebels Evalene didn’t recognize. Sol’s nose was dripping blood. “What in the Number One’s name happened?” Evalene asked.
“I punched him,” Luc said flatly. Then his voice rose. “I told you two to wait on the ship!”
“It’s not our fault!” Evalene yelled back, gesturing to Sol. “The Regulators came to the harbor. If he hadn’t rescued us, we’d still be in headquarters right now, waiting for our hanging!”
Luc glared at Sol, hearing only what he wanted to hear. “We’ll take their headquarters. It’s just a matter of time. Did he do this to her?”
Sol glowered back, not saying a word.
Olive’s eyes fluttered open. Evalene answered for Sol when it was clear he wasn’t going to. “No. I told you, he helped us.”
“He did more than help,” Olive spoke up, joining the argument before she even knew the details, struggling to sit. “He’s the only reason we’re still alive.”
Luc helped Olive sit upright, but he didn’t answer her, and he didn’t look at Evalene. “Rest for a minute,” he said to Olive. He stood and faced Sol. Both men were the same average height and lightweight build, but something made Evalene think that if Sol decided to fight back, he would win. Luc glared at the Regulator as he said, “You’re not needed anymore. Go back to where you came from.”
“Luc!” Olive gasped. “Shame on you! Sol’s here to help!”
Evalene turned so that she was standing side by side with Sol in silent support, and agreed with Olive. “We need all the help we can get.”
“Actually, we don’t,” Luc replied, stubbornly. He helped Olive stand, turning his back on them entirely, leading Olive towards a nearby chair. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He asked one of the men nearby to fetch a healer.
But Evalene gritted her teeth, feeling that surge of anger that made her brave. “You’re not in charge to make that decision. Where is Jeremiah?” Evalene glared at the men holding Sol’s arms and they let go, backing off.
Luc’s back was turned and he didn’t argue, but he didn’t answer either. What did that mean? The healer arrived and began to untie the makeshift fabric bandage around Olive’s head while Luc pulled a med kit off the wall and dug out fresh gauze. As the healer worked, Luc frowned at Olive’s wound, finally answering Evalene’s question. “Jeremiah’s recovering from some injuries. He can’t be disturbed right now.”
Evalene frowned in concern, working up the nerve to argue with Luc again and demand to see him anyway, when Olive spoke first. “How is the revolution going? Are we winning?”
“I think we finally are,” Luc replied, as the healer wrapped a fresh bandage around Olive’s head. “It may take a few days to know for sure. A lot of cities are less certain than Delmare, and a few were taken back. We’re running low on people willing to make a statement, unfortunately. I sent runners out to meet citizens and ask them to share their stories. But most don’t want to share on live television and risk a hanging until they’re sure we’ve won.”
“I can give my story,” Olive said.
“You’re injured,” Evalene argued. “You’re not up to it.”
“No, it’s the perfect time!” Olive argued. “It will be inspiring for people to see others outside of Eden, nobly fighting for their cause!”
With the fresh white bandage, she didn’t look like the warrior she described, just a pale, blonde girl wearing a headscarf. But Luc’s expression brightened. “I don’t need to know the details. Here, let’s tie the bloody wrap over the new one... just for a few minutes. It’s not like we’re faking it. It is your blood after all.”
He made quick work of adding the blood-soaked purple fabric back to her ensemble. “That’s perfect. Okay, follow me and I’ll get you in line. They’ll need someone within the next five minutes.”
Helping Olive stand, Luc led her past all the computers to the door at the opposite side of the room. Evalene’s eye caught the screens all along the top of the room as she glanced up, and her jaw dropped as she recognized the man on the television as Talc. Luc and Olive disappeared through the door on the other side, leaving Evalene and Sol to fend for themselves.
This was the broadcast Jeremiah had described, the one where people would tell their stories and influence citizens to join the revolution. Evalene didn’t know if they were allowed in to watch, but after a pause, she decided to try. She strode across the room, and Sol followed, ignoring those who turned to glare.
Evalene tested the door handle to the next room. It opened easily. She entered with Sol right behind her. This was a much smaller, brighter room. Compared to the chatter of different conversations in the computer room, this room was hushed, all attention focused on the speaker on stage.
The stage itself was only a couple inches off the ground, but it spanned the length of the entire right wall and was a bright, vivid green. This same green paint covered the wall behind the stage as well. She’d never seen anything like it. But the desk looked familiar. The color wood and the way it curved to hold the chairs reminded Evalene of the nightly news with Sterling and Opal, but this couldn’t be their desk, could it? They’d always had a serene neutral background behind them, not this neon green. The array of cameras and lighting spread out around the stage in orderly chaos, all pointing towards Talc as he spoke. The monitors held the same image that was playing in the room behind them. They were broadcasting live.
Chairs lined the walls at the back of the room, and Sol and Evalene found seats. As they did, those nearby stared at the shirtless man, and once they read his tattoo, they stood and moved away, unwilling to sit near him.
Talc was wrapping up his statement, but he made Evalene too nervous to listen. She found herself oddly grateful for Sol’s presence. Luc took the stage. Stepping up onto the tiny platform, he placed a hand on Talc’s shoulder, but directed his grin at the camera. As he thanked the big man for speaking, he waved for Olive to come up, beginning to introduce her.
As Olive stepped up next to him, Luc made a s
how of helping her, asking if she was sure she felt up to it. Olive waved him off, annoyed. But as she walked around the table to sit, she tripped slightly, and Sol stood unconsciously, moving towards the stage in concern. He stopped halfway. Staying put in the middle of the room behind the cameramen, he crossed his arms.
Olive recovered from her trip, lowering herself into a chair. The bright light fixated on her, exaggerating the bloody bandages even more. She began to tell the camera of life outside of Eden, the island and all its technological advances they’d never been allowed to have here. She described how well they functioned without Numbers. Talking had never been a problem for Olive. She enjoyed the attention, not even a concussion could stop that, and she dramatically told the cameras and everyone in the room the story of when she first learned about Eden.
As Olive spoke, Evalene watched the large optical screen that displayed the camera’s focus, what was broadcasting to the rest of the country at that moment. It caught her attention because as Olive spoke, they zoomed in on her bare neck, where her hair, snagged by the bandage, was pulled back enough to reveal perfect, smooth skin, untouched by a tattoo.
Evalene struggled to listen to her friend’s story. Talc’s presence in the room, where he sat in a chair on the opposite side, drove her to distraction. Thankfully, Sol sat back down next to her. She felt slightly relieved.
Luc made his way around the room as Olive spoke, whispering to people here and there. He found a seat next to Evalene and leaned towards her, ignoring Sol. “We still need someone to go next. You’d be perfect.”
Evalene peeked at him out of the corner of her eye. Perfect, as a supposed high Number? Or did he guess her true Number?
“I couldn’t,” she whispered back. “I always say the wrong thing.”
“We desperately need someone to speak to the higher Numbers,” Luc argued, “to help them understand our cause. Someone like you could explain to them why change is necessary, even though they personally might be comfortable, for the sake of those who aren’t treated well and deserve better.” So he did think she was a high Number. Jeremiah had kept her secret as promised.
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