Once An Eve Novel

hall I opened the door a crack. Clara was walking quickly, holding up the hem of her dress, going on about the broken lock on her safe, how someone must’ve come into her suite during breakfast. The soldier listened intently, rubbing his forehead with his hand. Before they rounded the corner Clara glanced over her shoulder, her eyes meeting mine.
    I darted toward the east stairwell. I wore the sweater and jeans I’d worn the first night I’d left the Palace, my hair secured in a low bun. I missed the cap I had pulled down over my eyes, feeling more exposed now, more recognizable as I started down the stairwell. I kept my eyes on my feet, careful to duck below the tiny windows that faced onto each floor.
    Far below, the Palace mall was crowded with people. Workers were closing up their stores for the morning, pulling down large metal grates to cover their front windows. Shoppers emptied into the streets. Soldiers directed everyone out the various exits, clearing the main floor for the procession. I kept my head down as I started toward the same door I’d gone out of that first night, feeling the soldiers’ eyes on me. “Keep moving!” one called out, his words tensing my entire body. “Go to the right when you reach the main road.”
    I followed the crowd, squeezed into the space between the Palace fountain and the metal barricades. The man next to me had his son with him, his arm around his shoulders as they took small steps, filing outside. I brought my hand to my face, trying to avoid being noticed by the two older women to my left, red-and-blue scarves tied festively around their necks. “Paradise Road will be the best view,” one of them said. “If we’re on the right-hand side, opposite the Wynn Tower, we can avoid the congestion. I’m not getting stuck behind the crowds like we were for the parade.”
    Finally we were down the Palace’s marble steps, moving faster as we filed along the main strip and across the overpass. I broke off, relieved when I was away from the women, lost in the shifting current of the crowd. It would take time to get to the Outlands. I’d anticipated this, but it was even more apparent now, with everyone packed inside the barricades, shuffling along the sidewalks. Some streets were closed. The procession route was dotted with soldiers, many standing in the narrow road, scanning the roofs of the buildings, their rifles in hand.
    I squeezed between people, ducking around a man who’d stopped to tie his shoe. When I passed a restaurant I checked the time against the clock inside. It was nine fifteen. Caleb had been led out of the prison by Harper’s contact there. The dissidents should’ve met him in the Outlands by now. They were probably already at the hangar. With the soldiers concentrated inside the City center, there’d be less security near the wall. No one would come by the construction sites. It could be an hour or more before the handful of soldiers at the prison realized Caleb was missing and got word to the tower patrol.
    The day was oppressively hot. I pulled at the neck of my sweater, wishing for an escape from the sun. All around me, people spoke excitedly about the wedding procession and the Princess’s dress, and the ceremony that would be broadcast on billboards throughout the City. Their voices seemed far away, a chorus fading into the background, as my thoughts returned to Caleb. Harper had told me he hadn’t been hurt. He’d said they would get him out. He had promised that Jo was securing places for us on the Trail, that they’d be waiting in the hangar for me when I arrived. As I crept closer to the Outlands, the minutes passed more quickly. I let myself imagine it, seeing him there, inside the open room. Our fingers laced together as we started through the dark tunnel, putting the City behind us.
    I hurried my steps, weaving in and out of the crowd as I moved closer to the old airport. I didn’t look at anyone. Instead I fixed my gaze on that spot in the south, just off the main road, where the buildings opened up to cracked pavement.
    The Outlands were quiet. Across the gravel, two men sat on overturned buckets, passing a cigarette back and forth. Someone was hanging wet sheets out an upstairs window. I started across the airport parking lot, unable to keep from smiling. The King was probably at my suite. He had just realized I was gone. It was too late now. Here I was, minutes from the hangar, with Caleb so close. He was just inside that