Escape from Eden (4 page)

Gabriel gazed blankly up at him through strands of unruly dark hair. “Who are you?” he asked with dazed fascination.

“Doc Gladstone.”

“Don’t you mean Dr. Eden? Isn’t that our last name?”

“Gladstone is my first name.”

“Sounds like a porn name.”

Doc Gladstone shook his head and held up three fingers. “How many?”

Gabriel squinted, looked past Doc’s fingers, and said, “Hey Doc, did you know your dreads are as thick as Snickers Bars?”

“Not blind, then,” Doc Gladstone mumbled. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

“Does my mangled soul count?”

Doc Gladstone fought a smile. “Up, come sit over here.” He pulled Gabriel to his feet and led him to the cot next to mine.

Gabriel glanced at me as he sat on the cot. I flicked my eyes away.

“I’ll be back in a moment. Grizz,” Doc Gladstone said to the guard. “Let’s talk outside.”

Grizz lumbered back to the door, eyes never leaving Gabriel’s. “Yeah, Doc. Let’s talk.”

“Nice meeting you, Grizz,” Gabriel called, and then mumbled to himself, “I’m sure we’ll meet again.”

Once Doc escorted Grizz through the door, I silently studied Gabriel, from the top of his dark head to his mud-caked shoes. Neither of us said anything. He hadn’t even looked in my direction, only kicked clumps of dried mud off his shoes onto the floor.

“You’re making a mess,” I said, still up on my elbows.

“And?”

“Someone has to clean that up. Nurse Ivy, probably.”

Staring intently at me, he banged his boots together, raining more dried mud on the floor.

“Gabriel,” I said in a flat tone.

“What?”

I glared at him for a moment, appalled. “Grow up.”

I turned my head and put it down on the exam table. I remained there, listening to the fan purr and counting the seconds until Doc Gladstone returned. The white noise stretched out between us.

“Comfy?” Gabriel asked me in a silky voice.

“Huh?” I turned my head toward him and watched as his eyes traveled down the backs of my bare legs.

I realized, splayed out on my stomach like I was, my dress was rucked up high on my thigh, probably showing my underwear. My face felt hot. I scrambled into a seated position, ignoring the pain of the splinter.

“What did you do with my knife?” I asked.

“What knife?”

“My chef’s knife. The one you stole from me last night. I had to prep fruit with a boning knife.”

He mouthed “boning” with a look of mock horror.

I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don’t know what kind of games you’re playing, but this is my real life. This isn’t some vacation. I have to work. I have a job to do every day and without that knife my job is ten times harder. So give it back.”

He shrugged. “If I’d had the knife on me, Grizz would have used his irresistible charm to coax it from my hands.”

“I need it, Gabe.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I’ll just stop talking to you altogether, how’s that?”

I stared straight ahead, trying to ignore him in the periphery of my vision. But I couldn’t help peeking at him as he sat there. His arms were folded over his chest, biceps bunched up, straining the fabric of his shirt. I noticed the swirls of a dark tattoo peeking beneath his sleeve. The lines were beautiful and mysterious. Some of the older people in Edenton had tattoos, reminders of a life left behind, but the kids who’d grown up in Edenton didn’t even have pierced ears, let alone something as exotic, and daring, as a tattoo.

“Do you like it?” Gabriel asked me.

My heart jumped. “Like—like what?”

“Edenton.”

“Like it? I uh—”

At first, I had to tear my eyes away from his tattoo. Then, process his question. No one ever asked me a question like that. Of course I didn’t like living in Edenton, but as far as I could tell, I was the only one.

I remembered life before Edenton. Suburban bliss: minivans, play dates, swimming pools, McDonald’s. But it was also a sheltered life. I couldn’t watch secular TV or movies. No secular music. I couldn’t read a book unless Mama approved it. But Papa was different, sneaking songs for me to listen to and books for me to read. That’s what made it a life of loud arguments in the middle of the night. My father disappearing for long periods of time. But it was emotional. When I was happy, it was the most electric feeling. When I was sad, it was the end of everything. High-highs tempered by low-lows. I missed that roller coaster of emotion.

But who was this boy to me? I hadn’t known who he was twenty-four hours ago. I couldn’t trust him. If Gabriel said anything to Thaddeus or the Reverend about how I felt about Edenton, about not liking it here anymore, I could be punished. Worse, every move I made would be watched by security.

Instead of answering his question honestly, if I liked Edenton, I answered like any other member of the Flock would answer.

“And the Lord God planted a garden eastward in Eden,” I said, reciting the verse from memory, “and there he put the man whom he had formed. And out of the ground made the Lord God to grow every tree that is pleasant to the sight, and good for food; the tree of life also in the midst of the garden—”

“And the tree of knowledge of good and evil,” he finished. “Don’t quote the Bible to me.”

“You know the quote?”

“I’m here in this hellhole, aren’t I? So someone tainted my brain with religion.”

“Gabriel,” I said through gritted teeth, as I was about to say words I didn’t believe to keep him at arm’s length. “Edenton is a good place, where the world can’t hurt us.”

He shot me a look of disbelief. “This place is unbelievable. Even the goddamn teenagers are brainwashed here.”

That hurt, because I wasn’t. “I’m far from brainwashed—”

“You are. You all are. This place is not right.” He waved his hand around the room. “Look at this place. Everything is so—so new. Modern. Expensive. We’re stuck out here in the middle of the rainforest and looking around this room you wouldn’t even know it. Edenton has everything. Where the hell do you get the money for all this stuff?”

I blinked at him. I’d never thought about it. “We sell produce and fish to the people in San Sebastian.”

“You think peddling papayas is going to buy all those stainless steel appliances in the kitchen?” He shook his head in disgust, and shame unfurled in my chest. Did he think I was ignorant? “You really chose to come here? To stay here?”

“I—” I stared down at my work boots. I wanted to yell, No! I didn’t. But I was too young and didn’t know any better. I took in a breath and looked back at him. His eyes were slitted against black lashes. Blue, they were blue. Or maybe green? Regardless, they were livid. “Edenton is … um … a peaceful … ”–and painfully boring—“commune.”

“You’re prisoners!” Trying to gain his composure, he squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head. “Mia,” he whispered and my heart clenched. He remembered my name. When he opened his eyes to look at me, they were darker, serious. “I thought maybe you were different.”

Different? In the last six years, had anyone thought I was different? Different from any other member of the Flock? My heart beat wildly. Because I knew what he suspected. I was different.

“What do you mean we’re prisoners?” I asked, leaning closer to him.

Gabriel stared back at me, eyes scrutinizing me, and remained silent, as if weighing whether I was worthy of his words. “They’re not keeping the world out,” he finally said.

“Who?”

“The guards, Grizz and the rest,” he said, glancing at the infirmary door. “Those guys who walk around with the guns. They’re not keeping us safe. They’re not keeping people from getting into Edenton. They’re keeping the Flock—us—in.”

The fan continued to whir, same white noise as before he spoke, but now it sounded distant, hollow, as if it were in another room.

“Keeping the Flock in?” I exhaled a breath. “How do you know?”

Gabriel dropped his voice. “Last night, I found—”

“Well, now,” Doc Gladstone said as he came in the room. He smiled in that warm way of his that you knew wasn’t a put-on bedside act. “I’m impressed, Gabriel. No one has landed a punch on Grizz in years. When he came here, at eighteen, he insisted we call him Grizz. Because of his size, you know. Big as a bear and loves to get scrappy and fight. I thought he was intimidating enough without the nickname.” He shook his head with disbelief. “But you connected twice. Twice! Unbelievable.” Doc Gladstone caught himself mid-laugh and sobered. “Now, whatever happened between you and Grizz is of no matter here in the infirmary. I do not judge that which the Reverend and the Lord must. The Reverend will decide your retribution. But I will tell you when you’re being a bloody daft idiot. Don’t cross Grizz. He prefers the Old Testament teachings on
lex talionis
. Eye for an eye and the like.”

Gabriel nodded, shooting me a quick glance, as if to say
We’ll talk about this later
. The idea that I’d see him later, that he might seek me out to talk to me, confide in me because I was different, sent a quivering thrill through my body.

“All right then,” Doc Gladstone said, clapping his hands together. “Now, let’s get to mending.”

Before the curtain between the exam tables closed, Gabriel stared at me, gaze burning with determination. If I involved myself with Gabriel and told him about my yet-to-be-planned plan to escape from Edenton, I could make the mistake that could cost me my freedom.

The shrill cry of the Edenton loudspeaker alarm woke me with a jolt. I shot up, clutching my ears. My hair was still wet from the shower I’d taken before bed, so I couldn’t have been asleep long. A sudden flash of light blinded me as the usually dormant floodlights nestled in the rafters of our cottage flared to life. I blinked, and saw the other girls in my cottage still in their bunks. Juanita lay back on her pillow, arm covering her eyes, rolling her head with its froth of black curls back and forth. Lily, above her, sat up with the sheet pulled to her chest, her wide gray eyes darting around with fear. Bridgette and Dina rose from their pillows with blind acceptance. Aliyah, above me, poked her head over the edge of the bed.

“Bright Night,” she said over the noise.

“Dammit,” I said.

“Mia!” Aliyah said, but she snuck a glance at Bridgette and Dina, the most devout of our little group.

Neither reacted, which meant neither had heard. They jumped from their bunks, gathering clothes folded neatly on their trunks.

“A what?” Lily yelled.

She’d arrived only six months ago with her adopted aunt and uncle. Her parents had died in a house fire, one she had, incredibly, survived. She’d told us her mother submerged her in the bathtub as her parents tried to find a way to escape. Lily called out in her sleep practically every night.

“Been a while since we’ve had one of these,” Juanita said.

“Had one of what?” Lily asked.

Before any of us could explain to her about Bright Nights, the alarm stopped and Thaddeus’s voice came over the speakers.

“Please join us in the pavilion in five minutes,” he said in a low, rumbling tone. “By request of the Reverend.”

Request was a kind word. It wasn’t a request; it was an order. Those of us left in our cottages after five minutes were driven out and escorted to the pavilion by the guards.

Lily’s fine blond hair fell into her eyes as she trembled. She looked so small compared to the rest of us. We’d been working for years in Edenton, building up muscle and endurance in our requisite physical training classes. Lily was still thin and somewhat frail, the tenacious sun constantly burning her fair skin.

“A Bright Night,” I explained to Lily as I rose from my bed, “is when the Reverend calls for the congregation in the middle of the night to pray under the bright, white lights of the pavilion until dawn.”

“Until dawn?” Lily asked in a disbelieving tone. “I have to bake bread at five
A.M
. I won’t get any sleep at all.”

“And you’ll be better for it,” Bridgette snapped. “Prayer at the Matins hours nourishes the soul so that sleep is unnecessary.” She shoved her feet into her boots and flicked her bangs out of her eyes with a shake of her head. Snatching her worn Bible from below her pillow, she pointed it at us as she said, “You all act like this is a sacrifice—”

“But it is a sacrifice,” said Dina, her breathy voice sounding childlike and serene. “Like the sacrifices the Lord made for us.” She buttoned up her collar to the edge of her neck. “Girls, it’s only a few hours. We don’t need sleep—”

“I need sleep,” I said as I stretched.

“Mia!” Bridgette said, flashing me an angry look as she brushed her perfectly straight hair. “Your attitude lately has been so irritating. What is wrong with you?”

“Calm down, Bridgette,” said Juanita. “Bright Night is pretty intense, we all know that, so cut her a little slack.”

“I wonder who it’s going to be this time,” Aliyah said.

Lily slid down from her bunk. “What do you mean?”

Juanita’s gaze met mine from across the room. She tilted her head at me. So I needed to explain it. Great.

“Someone will be made an example of tonight,” I said. “A member of the Flock will be brought up on that stage in the pavilion and chastised for sinning or going against the word of the Reverend.”

I immediately thought of Gabriel. Although I wasn’t altogether sure what he had done, other than stealing my knife and hitting Grizz. I hadn’t told anyone about the knife.

Lily stepped into her dress beneath her nightgown. “The Reverend. He embarrasses the sinner?”

“Then we pray for whomever it is,” Aliyah said.

“Not always,” Bridgette said in a snappy tone. “A few times, he’s punished the sinner onstage. A beating or whipping. It’s a good reminder about avoiding sin for the rest of us.”

“Beating a lesson into a person isn’t teaching, Bridgette,” I said.

She gaped at me, then looked to Juanita. “See, Juanita? Such a sassy attitude!”

Ignoring her, Juanita sat up and scratched her wild hair with curled fingers. “Let’s hope it’s not another sermon on chastity. The last one made my mother pray incessantly for days.”

Carmen, Juanita’s mother, came to Edenton almost two decades ago to cleanse herself of her sins. Her two most egregious sins were Juanita and Octavio, both conceived and born out of wedlock. The Reverend hadn’t brought anyone onstage for that Bright Night’s chastity lecture, but flashed warning glances at all the female members of the Flock, as if the sin of lust rested solely on our shoulders.