Numbers Raging (Numbers Game Saga Book 3) Read online

  “It’s been ten weeks, Treena,” Dresden said. “They would have attacked by now if they were going to. Maybe we understood wrong.”

  I slammed a fist on the table, making everyone’s screens jump. They grumbled, but I raised my voice. “Dresden Wynn, you were there. You heard Ju-Long say those things, and you went pale as death. I saw it. You know as well as I do that they intend to come back and finish the job.”

  Dresden stood, leaning over the table toward me, his expression dark. I was treading on dangerous ground now. “Maybe they were messing with our minds, trying to drive us to do something stupid like leave our city so they could take it peacefully. It’s not going to happen, Treena. We’ll gather the people and put the military on alert, but your dad is right. Anything more will just bring on a nationwide panic and get people killed.”

  I shook my head. Konnor Dowell may have been my stepfather, but the surname was the only thing we had in common. “No, absolutely not. They need to know the truth. Let the people decide whether they want to stay. They deserve that much.”

  “People always react emotionally,” the councilman over water said. “That’s why we’re here. I say we vote and move on to concerns that actually exist. I’ve been waiting to present my bill for two months now, and we keep pushing it back. It’s time to take a look at our water storage. Our loss rate has significantly increased this year—”

  “Fine, fine.” Dresden’s eyes flicked to mine, then away as he spoke. “All in favor of Treena’s—I mean, Councilwoman Dowell’s—evacuation proposal, show it.”

  I raised my hand and ground my teeth.

  “All against?”

  Every other hand went up. Most eyes looked elsewhere as they voted against me, but Konnor caught my gaze and smirked.

  My stepfather had exploded when Dresden informed everyone of my appointment at our first meeting. The other council members were shocked and angry, but they didn’t dare show it outright. Konnor had eventually shown his displeasure in more appropriate and irritating ways, like interrupting me when I spoke or intentionally taking the opposite stance on an issue. But today’s speech clinched it. He would dig in his heels to everyone’s demise if it meant beating me, and we both knew it.

  Denoux was one of the first to put his hand up against me as well. The man had no idea I’d also saved his job, something I regretted doing now. Having a new councilman of war, one who at least had a chance of being on my side, would have helped things significantly.

  “The measure has been voted down,” Dresden said, relief evident in his voice. “We’ll wait to hear from the committee when they’ve concluded their investigation. Let’s discuss the water issue now. Councilman McMann, you have the floor.”

  I ran out the door the moment our meeting ended. My driver and Precious, my bodyguard, seemed to be arguing as they stood outside my transport. They didn’t notice when I turned the corner. Good. It was a ten-minute walk to the museum, and I looked forward to those ten glorious minutes to myself.

  I wasn’t all that excited to announce my failure to my spy network, though. It would just start another round of “overthrow Dresden” talks. Sometimes I felt like my life was spent having the same conversations over and over—either with the council and Dresden or my own supporters.

  Taking long strides toward a triangular building at the far end of the city center, I kept my face down so nobody would see the lack of a number on my forehead. I’d managed to avoid implantation because of my agreement with Dresden, something my supporters brought up often. But most people seemed bothered by the scar on my forehead. I was an exception, an irregularity in a very regulated world. A spot of dirt on a clean window.

  The huge stone sign out front read “NORA History Museum”—a building that rarely saw visitors except children on field trips. The perfect place to meet Maizel, although it looked like she wasn’t here yet. A statue of Richard Peak stood regally above the sign, his arms spread as if preaching. My great-great-grandfather, as I’d discovered recently. Even though we shared DNA, I knew very little about the man except that he’d started a strange family tradition—naming his children after stones.

  I fingered my ametrine-stone necklace. It had taken me weeks to realize my Peak heritage. Then I’d sworn to free my people from Peak’s terrible, manipulative Rating system, only to fail. I’d come back here to protect them, and I was failing to do that, too. Jasper and my supporters were effectively spreading the word and gathering supplies for the evacuation, but it was moving far too slowly to make a dent. A huge majority of the nation still had no idea the largest nation in the world was about to descend upon them, and we were far from prepared.

  So much about this war was uncertain, but there was one thing I knew for sure. These people had to know the truth. It wouldn’t be too hard to make a public announcement with the connections we’d built so far.

  But that would be the end of my position here. That meant war preparations would come to a halt, my followers would disband, and the convention idea would be a distant memory. My people would be destroyed as I looked helplessly on from a prison cell.

  I kicked one of the stone steps and winced at the pain in my toe. Dresden had begged me to come back and help unite the people. I’d made several demands, but in the end, he’d gotten everything he wanted and I’d gotten nothing. I was a symbol of power but completely powerless, a citizen with a valuable bloodline and little more. There was only so much I could do before Dresden discovered my secret preparations—and something told me he wouldn’t appreciate them at all.

  Whose side was he even on? It was impossible to know these days.

  Maizel was still nowhere to be seen. Maybe she was inside. I climbed the steps and walked inside, then made my way to the front desk, trying not to look like I was about to strangle someone. Today was not the best day for Maizel to stand me up.

  “Swipe your techband here,” the museum receptionist said dully. He didn’t even look up.

  “I don’t have one,” I told him.

  He stood, nearly knocking his chair over in the process. “Councilwoman Dowell! I’m so sorry about that. Please allow me to escort you to Professor Parry’s office. I’m assuming that’s where you’re headed?”

  “Actually, I’m looking for someone. Have you seen a girl with bright red hair?”

  “Here? Uh, no. No, I haven’t.”

  I blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m going to take a look around, then.”

  He gave me a strange look. “Of course. The building is yours.”

  “Thank you. If you see a girl like that, tell her I’m looking for her.” I started to walk past, then turned back to him. “And if a burly man with large ears comes in looking for me, please tell him I went home.”

  “I—all right?”

  “Thank you.” I started into the main showroom, then changed my mind at the last moment and turned left toward special collections. Maizel wouldn’t have headed for the largest room. That wasn’t her way.

  The hallway was dark, the walls lit only by a few carefully placed lamps next to images that were hard to ignore. Images of Old America that assaulted me—hollow-eyed children, skeletal figures, bodies rotting in the streets. The Great Civil War had taken hundreds of millions of lives. I couldn’t even fathom that number. NORA’s capital city boasted two million residents, and it seemed like there were people everywhere.

  Voices sounded down the hall, and I paused. Men whispering, so definitely not Maizel. I ducked into the nearest empty room—the Richard Peak exhibit, it seemed, by the huge portrait hanging on the back wall. I’d been in this room as a child on a field trip, but it hadn’t held much meaning for me back then. I hadn’t found out about my heritage until a few months ago.

  The voices in the hallway behind me faded away, and the utter silence of the moment struck me. I hadn’t been this alone in a long time. The Council Building was quiet, but it wasn’t home. It never would be.

  Months ago I’d been a typical citizen, excited to gr
aduate and conquer her dreams. It seemed like the world had turned on its head since then. Councilwoman Dowell? How had this happened? What bizarre series of events made me think I belonged here? Why had I assumed I could make a difference?

  I sauntered over to Peak’s portrait for a closer look. He didn’t look much like me. His hair was pure white, almost angelic. His eyes shone a bright blue tinged with green, and his smile was grim, almost sad. For the first time in my life, I studied my great-great-grandfather’s face. Every detail of it.

  This man had seen so much death. How had he pulled through such horrible times? I thought of Ruby and her sad story about leaving NORA. I thought about my parents, Jasper and Lanah, and how the empress had torn them apart. Some of the purists admired me for having Peak blood, but honestly, I didn’t know of a single Peak who’d enjoyed a happy life.

  “Is this what you wanted?” I asked the man in the portrait. “Would you change things if you could see how corrupt your system has become?”

  He didn’t answer, of course, but his expression did seem to carry the weight of a nation. It stirred something deep inside me.

  “Reds, yellows, greens,” I muttered. “People in their neat and tidy places, stamped with numbers and ready to carry forth the emperor’s will. Is that the future you saw, or did we just take your dream too far?”

  Silence.

  I sighed and began to turn away, but then my gaze fell upon a glass case below the portrait. Propped inside was a ring-bound notebook opened to a middle page. The papers inside were slightly discolored, the ink considerably faded. I leaned forward and squinted at the words.

  January 29, 2027

  It’s been a month since Mom died and we’ve lost a quarter of the camp, with another twenty or so sick. Dealing with death has become a routine with the morning bonfires. Nobody smiles anymore, adults or kids. The truth is, there are no young here. There are only smaller bodies and taller bodies, those who eat much and those who eat little, those who can contribute and those who can’t yet. All are ravaged by the horrors of war and death.

  I longed to turn the page, but the book was cradled in its final resting place behind glass.

  I cocked my head and read it again, then again. Of course the museum’s curators would leave it open to this particular page. It showed the horrors of war and Richard Peak’s hope for a new, peaceful life—exactly what NORA wanted to portray. But that feeling inside, that curiosity, pulled me toward this book like a giant magnet. There had to be more to my great-great-grandfather than this. The man with the angelic white hair had to be more than simply our government’s founder. He was also a survivor. Did he have nightmares too? Had he killed to keep himself alive? What had this man seen?

  “There you are,” a deep voice said from behind me.

  I groaned inwardly and turned to face the beast of a man. His recent haircut made his ears seem larger than usual. “Good afternoon to you too, Precious. And how is the wife today?”

  He ignored my question. “Studying some history, then, Councilwoman Dowell? Didn’t think you were the type.”

  “I’m full of surprises. I don’t suppose you’d go away if I asked really nicely?”

  He just glared at me. “Too dangerous.”

  Dangerous. Right. He “stood watch” outside my door at all hours despite the fact that there were enough cameras planted in my quarters to create a full-length film about my daily activities. He wasn’t there to protect me, and we both knew it.

  The guard motioned toward the doorway. “If you’ve seen enough, honored one, His Majesty has summoned you to his quarters.”

  Normally I would have dragged my feet and taken as much time here as I wanted, irritating my “bodyguard” and Dresden both. Dresden in particular deserved it today. But I glanced at the book again, feeling that strange pull to its pages. If I could only borrow it. I just wanted to read what came next, to see Peak’s reasoning behind the system. Maybe knowing how he’d convinced his followers would help me unravel his mess.

  I had to borrow this diary. Maybe Dresden could use an executive order. He owed me that much.

  I slowly turned to find my bodyguard’s jaw twitching with irritation. His expression was wary, as if he expected me to argue. I swallowed my pride a little and raised my chin, then swept past him toward the doorway. “Let’s go, then, Precious. Can’t keep His Majesty waiting.”

  As we exited the building, a group of palace guards standing outside snapped to attention. If Dresden was sending his own guards to find me, he was definitely angry about my proposal today. The thought made my blood flow hot in my veins. Let him rage and protect his throne. I had more important things to do, like saving lives.

  Another group of people stood near my transport, watching me warily. Precious herded me toward the door like he expected me to join them and disappear. A few of the faces looked familiar—a pointy chin, a high forehead. A few were in my spy network. A shorter form with a large hat peered at me from behind a taller woman’s shoulder. Maizel. She looked at me questioningly.

  I shook my head.

  A man I didn’t recognize leaned forward as if to block my path, then thought better of it when Precious looked his way. “Councilwoman Dowell, there are rumors that you’re the rightful heir and that’s why you don’t wear a Rating. Is that true?”

  The others jumped in, talking over each other, scrambling for my attention.

  “Did you see the empress’s death?”

  “Do you know who attacked the palace?”

  “You disappeared for weeks. Where did you go?”

  “Your position was created by Emperor Wynn. Why? What’s your plan?”

  “Some talk of an impending war. Is that just hearsay?”

  “Are you really a descendant of Richard Peak?” That one came from one of my followers, a tall man with a narrow forehead and prominent nose.

  Maizel pursed her lips as if wanting to follow me, but of course that would be a disaster. I nodded my head ever so slightly, hoping she’d understand. No, I didn’t convince the council. Yes, you can tell everyone I tried.

  Precious growled, and the group stumbled backward, making way for us to pass. “The councilwoman has nothing to say at this time. Stand aside or your Ratings will be adjusted accordingly.”

  “Actually,” I said, pausing on the sidewalk, “there is one thing I’d like to say.”

  “Councilwoman, you’re needed—”

  “I’ll be quick.” I sent him a grin that made the man snap his mouth closed, his face coloring. Sometimes the guy just needed to be put in his place. I raised my voice so all could hear, and they quieted down. “I can’t answer your questions right now, I’m afraid. But even if you don’t know who I am or what my role has been, know this. I am your friend. Your safety has been my first and only priority these past weeks, and I’ll do anything it takes to ensure no harm comes to you.”

  Well, almost anything. Starting a civil war to overthrow Dresden was not an option. Not yet.

  The driver opened the transport door, and Precious practically shoved me in. The group began shouting questions again. I caught the gaze of the taller man before Precious closed the door. He reminded me of a palace guard, but the uniform this man wore was plain and undecorated.

  He smiled and winked.

  The crowd began shouting questions again, the sound cutting off abruptly as the door slammed shut.

  “Let’s go,” Precious told the driver, his face still a dull pink.

  Orange light wriggled through the crack outlining the door of my hastily built hut, almost mocking me in its determination to ruin my plans to sleep in. No matter how I turned, the sunlight found its way in under my eyelids. I finally gave in and sat up, letting the blanket fall to my waist. The night’s chill was already fading. By noon the late-summer heat would be unbearable.

  I pulled my trousers on slowly, drawing out the silence. The daily madness would begin any moment. My six-year-old twin sisters lay quietly in their shared bed against the fa
r wall, their shoulders moving gently up and down. I reached over and pulled Laura’s blanket higher over her body despite the heat, knowing my mom would have done the same. She didn’t stir.

  So peaceful. Such a contradiction to everyday life now.

  Before lunchtime yesterday, I’d broken up three fights and censured two particularly difficult repeat offenders—because I had nothing better to do than punish grown men for fighting like children. It wasn’t like I had thousands of people to protect and provide for, after all. Not to mention my little sisters, who’d been left without parents.

  Rubbing the stiffness out of my sore shoulder, I fumbled around for a clean shirt. The physician said the pain from my bullet wound would eventually fade, but it seemed determined to stick around. I slipped a shirt over my head and began to button it, then groaned at the sound of whispering outside. The line for my attention was already forming. I’d hoped to sneak out unseen and bring some breakfast back for the girls.

  I folded the blanket and draped it across the bed to keep the insects out. The two beds took up most of the floor space in our small hut, but we rarely spent any time here. There simply wasn’t enough time to build anything larger. My responsibilities as leader of the settlement claimed my every moment lately.

  Exactly the way I preferred it. Downtime meant thinking, and I had no desire to let the events of ten weeks ago catch up with me.

  When I pushed open the door, six people stared back at me—two men and four women. They began talking all at once, their volume rising as they tried to be heard over each other.

  I quickly slipped through the door and pulled it closed behind me. “My sisters are still sleeping,” I hissed.

  The group just blinked at me, then continued their supplications at a slightly lower volume.

  “It’s just not fair—”

  “—don’t understand what I have to deal with here.”