Rise An Eve Novel

noticed it, too, some craning their necks to see if there was anything happening along the north gate. There was a low, steady hum of voices in the distance. Up above, a man leaned out the window of his apartment, trying to decipher which direction the noise was coming from.
    The soldiers ushered me up the stairs, spurred on by the shifting attention of the crowd. Something was happening in the Outlands, even if it was impossible to know what. They spun me around, and I imagined what Curtis and Jo had felt as they stood here, staring out at the crowd. The people had fallen into a strange silence. I recognized a few of my father’s circle. Amelda Wentworth, who had congratulated me on my engagement just a few months before, was standing toward the front, a thin handkerchief pressed to her face. Do something , I thought, watching them all, rigid, waiting. Why won’t you do something?
    I pushed back on the soldiers, away from the coiled rope, but they dragged me forward. I struggled to stay standing, my feet barely touching the ground. I saw the Lieutenant out of the corner of my eye. He was staring off to the north gate, at the black smoke that billowed into the orange sky. An explosion went off, the loud popping sound like a backfiring car.
    “Let’s finish this,” he said to the other two soldiers. He didn’t look at me as he spoke.
    There were more explosions, and shouting filled the air. I realized then it couldn’t be a riot in the Outlands—it was too loud. The crowd started away from the scene, scattering down the main road, back toward their apartments. A few began running, breaking through to the south end of the road, sprinting far ahead. The Lieutenant pushed me forward, trying to get me up on the three-foot wooden box. I resisted him, letting my weight fall, my legs collapsing, trying to make myself as heavy as possible.
    “Help me,” he yelled, looking to the other soldiers. They had backed away, their eyes on the smoke coming up from the northern edge of the wall. Another explosion was heard, and there was a great, collective yell. Then the light on the top of the watchtower changed from blinking to solid red, signaling that the perimeter of the wall had been compromised.
    “The colonies are here,” a younger man called out as he ran south on the road. The crowd shifted suddenly, knocking over the metal barricade in front of the platform, sending people stumbling onto the sidewalk. A group of women ran toward the Palace mall, hoping to get inside. I pushed back as hard as I could, the base of my head meeting the Lieutenant’s nose. I turned and kicked him, hard, between his legs. He flinched in pain and stumbled backward. As soon as he released me, I started down the platform and into the dense crowd. I lost sight of him only a few feet away, his face appearing then disappearing as more people ran past.
    I darted across the main road, keeping my head down, weaving through people as they scattered from the platform. My hands were numb, my wrists still lashed together at the base of my spine. A man in a tattered black jacket knocked into me, quickly registering who I was, then continued on. Everyone was too concerned with getting inside. The first signs of the army could be seen from the north end of the road, a wall of soldiers in faded, mud-soaked clothes. The rebels wore pieces of fabric tied around their biceps, the scraps of red visible in the distance.
    I disappeared through the Venetian gardens, winding down the alleyways I’d learned when Caleb and I had been together. With my hands tied it was harder to run, my wrists throbbing from where the restraints dug into my skin. I moved quickly, starting along the back of the building, past the wide, cerulean canals, the sky darkening across their glassy surface. People ran past the bolted shops, weaving under the archways and through the outdoor corridors to stay hidden. Others sprinted into the entrance to the apartment complex, locking the doors behind them. I turned back, scanning the arched bridges and open patio, the wrought-iron chairs scattered across the bricks. I’d lost the Lieutenant somewhere along the way, but a soldier was now coming toward me, his eyes fixed on me as he drew his knife.
    I darted down one of the open corridors, the stone pillars flying past as I ran. I finally reached a side entrance of the Venetian, but it was locked, a chain looped through the inside handles. As I took off around the perimeter of the