Rise An Eve Novel - By Anna Carey Page 0,13

end of the site, kicking something. I squinted against the sun, slowly making out the dark hollows in its side. It was a human skull.

I covered my nose, overtaken by the dry stench. I’d heard hundreds had been buried inside the hotel, their bodies wrapped in sheets and towels. There were rumors that some had still been alive, suffering from the plague; that terrified family members had left them there in their last hours. Dust had settled on every surface within a quarter of a mile. The pavement, the surrounding buildings, the rusted cars that sat, wheels off, in a vacant parking lot—it was all covered with a thin layer of gray.

I kept my head down as Charles came toward us, walking up the plywood ramp that had been anchored to the side of the ditch. I tucked my thumb under the strap of the bag, reminding myself of its contents. The nearest tunnel was still thirty minutes away, even if I ran. The best chance I had was to take the car back with my father and escape when we turned onto the main road. The south tunnel would be just ten minutes from there. Using the alleys in the Outlands, there was a chance I could lose the soldiers who followed me, if I moved quickly enough.

“We have some news for you,” my father called out when Charles came closer. The shoulders of his navy jacket were covered with dust. He pulled off the yellow construction hat he wore, cradling it like a baby.

He glanced from my father to me, then to the car idling behind us. The soldier was standing outside it, his rifle slung over his shoulder. “It must be important. I can’t remember a time when Genevieve visited me on a project.”

The King rested his hand on my back, pushing me forward ever so slightly. “Go on, Genevieve,” he whispered. “Tell Charles the happy news.” He was watching me, his eyes fixed on the side of my face.

It was over now, I could sense it, as my gaze met Charles’s. He looked at once hopeful and nervous, as he smoothed down a tuft of black hair that had fallen in his eyes. I filled my lungs, holding it there until it was too much to take. “I’m pregnant,” I said, my throat tight. “The City will be thrilled, I’m sure.”

The bulldozer moved along the construction floor below, a low, beeping sound filling the air. I rested my hand on my chest, feeling my heart alive beneath my breastbone, the steadiness of it calming me. Just say it, I thought, watching as Charles dropped his head, his eyes on the pavement. Don’t drag this out any further.

“As am I.” He came toward me, his arms over my shoulders, until I was pressed tightly against his chest. I breathed in, my body slowly relaxing, settling in beside him. He rested his hand on the back of my head so gently, I had to blink back tears. “I’ve never been happier.”

six

THE PARTY WAS STILL GOING ON, EVEN AFTER THE MUSICIANS had left for the night and the last of the cups and saucers had been cleared from the tables in the parlor. My father was more animated than I’d ever seen him, gesturing with his crystal glass, rambling on to Harold Pollack, an engineer in the City. “It’s something to celebrate,” I heard him say, as Charles and I started for the door.

“In a time when things aren’t as certain,” Harold agreed.

At this the King waved his hand dismissively, as if swatting away a fly. “Don’t believe everything you hear,” he said. “A few riots at the labor camps are hardly a threat to the City.”

I lingered there for a moment, watching them as Charles spoke with the Head of Finance. My father withstood Harold’s presence a moment longer before excusing himself. There had been talk of the labor camp riots all night. In between congratulations, people mentioned rumors about the labor camps, asking my father about the rebels outside the City. With every question he laughed a little harder, made more of a show of just how confident he was. He called them riots, not sieges, and made it sound like it had only happened at one or two of the camps.

“Ready to go?” Charles asked, offering me his arm. I threaded mine through it as we started down the hall. Neither of us spoke. Instead I listened to the sound of our footsteps and the faint