Rise An Eve Novel

motorcycle approached too quickly. I heard it coming up the ridgeline, closing the gap between us. There was the terrible grating of the tires on pavement, the sound of the brakes. Just as we’d nearly reached the motel, the engine turned off, returning the outside world to silence.
    He didn’t call out, as the soldiers often did, ordering us to turn, to make ourselves known. I didn’t look at him, instead bringing Bette around the side of the building, through the parking lot, to the back entrance. I pushed open the lobby’s glass door, sending off the dull clinking of chimes somewhere above. “We have to move into the back rooms,” I yelled out, pointing to the dark hallway farthest away from the road. “We’ve been found. Go—quickly.”
    Bette stood by the door, unsure what to do. A few of the girls startled from where they slept. Clara hovered by the lobby’s front entrance, where she had been watching us as the motorcycle approached. She dropped the curtain and turned to me. “He’s not there anymore,” she said, going to the windows on the other side of the door. “I don’t see him.”
    I scanned the lobby, but it was so dark it was hard to make out anyone’s face. Beatrice and Sarah helped Helene to her feet. I felt for the knife at my hip, reassured that it was there. As I grabbed Kit’s hand, shoving her out to the side hall, I heard the bells clank together, a sound so sudden it raised the fine hairs on my arm. There was the quick clomping of boots on the tile floor, then his slow, labored breathing, as the man grabbed Bette by the arm, holding a gun to the side of her ribs.
    He looked around the room, his face half visible in the moonlight streaming in from the door. “Who did this?” he asked. It was obvious he wasn’t a soldier. He wore a broken leather jacket and jeans that were black with dirt. I watched him, studying the red armband tied to his sleeve, wondering what it could symbolize, if he was for or against the resistance. Did he know about the Trail? “Who brought you all here?” he yelled.
    “You can take whatever you want,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “We have water and food. Enough to last you a week.”
    “I don’t want supplies,” he said, the gun pressed into Bette’s side. She was oddly still, her body rigid and eyes closed, as if she were already dead. One of the girls behind me was crying. I didn’t turn to look. Some of them had on their jumpers from School, and I suddenly regretted letting them keep them, even if they only wore them when they slept. It was impossible now to lie about who they were.
    “I brought them,” I said finally. “They were escaping the Schools.”
    He moved the gun from Bette’s side, pointing it instead at me. “You did,” he started, each word short. “Someone sent out a message saying they needed help. That they were being held here.”
    I looked to Bette. “She hurt her leg,” she choked out, barely opening her eyes. “Helene. She needs a doctor.”
    The man scanned the room, taking in Helene at Sarah’s side. She held her hurt leg off the ground. “Eve was trying to save us,” Kit said quickly. I turned to her, hoping she wouldn’t go on, but she did. “She’s the Princess—the King’s daughter.”
    Beatrice grabbed Kit, trying to silence her, but it was already too late. He let go of Bette and instead lunged at me, squeezing my arm so tight it hurt. Then he leveled the gun just below my ribs. The feel of it there, the blunt end pressing into my skin, was enough to steal the breath from my body. “Is there anyone else from the Palace?” he yelled at the others.
    Beatrice stepped forward, into the dim light. “You’ve made a mistake,” she said. “She’s trying to bring the girls to safety. To Califia. She’s been working with Moss.”
    “Moss is dead,” the man said. “Everyone on the Trail knows who Princess Genevieve is. She will be punished, even if her father was not.”
    “I was working with the rebels,” I said slowly, trying to keep my voice calm. “I’m on your side.” The man yanked my arm, pulling me toward the back exit. A few of the girls were crying, their low, muffled sobs heard in the dark.
    “I know the codes,” I said, thinking that might mean something to him. But he kept the gun aimed at my stomach.
    “You have to listen to her,” Clara said, running toward us. “She never sided with her father.” I shook my head, hoping she wouldn’t say anything more. It