Emergent, Book One : Isobel

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  Her steps echoed in the empty lobby of her apartment building as she walked toward the lift where her dog, Ash, waited for her. He sat like a silver wolf, with his wild mane framing his large, blocky head. Eyes of honey amber, like ancient godhead stones, locked onto her. He bounded to her as she fell to her knees, wrapping her weary arms around his thick neck, and buried her face into his silky fur.

  "Ash," Isobel whispered, pulling away, and through misted eyes she saw Montgomery, standing by the lift. She stumbled to her feet in a mad rush to get to him, and the short distance between them seemed like an infinite expanse. She threw herself into his open arms where they remained silently clasped for a long while.

  "Montgomery. You escaped. Please, tell me that you're ok, please tell me you're not imprinted, because I couldn't bear it," she whispered.

  He held her a bit tighter. "I'm ok. I'm not imprinted, not like you," he stated softly, pulling away as the lift opened.

  "Come up with me to my room. We need to talk. But first, do you know if anyone is looking for me?" she asked, entering the elevator.

  "You mean like a military squadron tracking down your citizen ID numbers from the imprinting? No. I haven't."

  "That's a relief. If they haven't been here already, they probably wont come at all. I'm not even sure that the orbital finished the job," she said.

  "I've never heard of something like that happening, Isobel. Orbitals always finish," he said, stepping in after her.

  "Not, apparently, if someone yanks it off your head before it's done."

  "Is that what happened?" he asked, releasing the lever. The pulleys clanged and the steel cage jangled about loudly as the elevator climbed.

  "Yes. This woman grabbed the orbital right off my head and helped me escape by throwing me head first into the avenue," she explained, shrugging when Montgomery looked at her as if she'd gone mad.

  "No one interrupts an imprinting orbital and lives to tell about it. She's probably dead. It's amazing that you got out alive."

  "I'm not sure I've made it out of this one alive yet, Montgomery. What do you think?" she asked, leaning into him tiredly.

  "Don't know," he answered, examining her. "That orbital was brutal, Isobel. You look like hell."

  "I feel like hell. I hit the ground hard when she threw me."

  The lift came to a stop on the twenty-seventh floor. Ash led the way down the narrow cinderblock hall to a gray metal door. The twenty-two digit family identification number was displayed on a rectangular plate, adhered to the wall above the round doorbell.

  Isobel slowly opened the front door to the flat, not knowing what to expect. She listened first, then stuck her head in, searching the entryway for anything unusual. Motioning for Montgomery to follow, they crept down the hall, stopping at the living room where her parents sat, immersed in the glare of the late night news report. The hologram newscaster stood at the center of the living room, recanting the altercation between the orbital and the woman in the alley that night. Images of the fight played out on a screen to the right of the newscaster as she reported on the incident.

  Isobel watched herself fly onto the busy avenue then disappear into the throng of pedestrians. The orbital then turned its full attention on the woman, and the crowd erupted in a collective cry of disappointment, thinking that the show was over.

  But the woman was not done.

  In disbelief, Isobel watched the shadowy figure destroy the orbital with her bare hands, ripping out its internal wiring systems like a gutted ball of string, until nothing remained but a pile of smoking metal.

  The crowd was thrilled, flummoxed, and not a small bit frightened. They all moved away like a murmur of starlings, expecting the woman to emerge, but instead she disappeared into the dark alley.

  "Our alley," Isobel said to Montgomery.

  He shook his head, shocked. "She can't get out of there. It dead ends at the old bath house. There's nowhere for her to go," he said.

  Isobel pulled away from the doorway as her mother stood.

  "Another war, Galen. What's going to happen to Aster? She's already lost her eldest son to the last war. Now she's going to lose her youngest, too. And with Devon still serving time in the barren lands for his crimes," she fretted.

  "Lower your voice, Jem. We mustn't ask questions. We don't want to join Aster's man in the barren lands with the nomads. Trust our good leaders, dear, and be thankful we're too old to fight for our country," he said in a hushed voice. Then, taking his wife's hand comfortingly, he coaxed her back onto the couch, and they resumed watching the news.

  Isobel knew Aster's son, Aaren. He was killed during the last war. She remembered the day they'd sent his body back in a black plastic bag marked with his citizen's ID number. Camden, Aster's youngest, was her age, and she was certain he'd be returned in a marked plastic bag, too. With Camden gone, Aster would be entirely alone, an outcast in Landgraevan society.

  "Come on, let's go to my room," Isobel said softly, and Montgomery followed.

  Chapter Five