Page 18 of Ember Rising

I clear my throat and say, “Yes. I’ll join.”

Eli, the ILF leader who seems to be in charge of this meeting, nods, his gaze still locked on mine.

“I want to be up front with you guys. The lives of a lot of our people are at stake. If you turn on us, we’ll come for you, because we protect our own. If you’re not all in, say so.”

Why is he only looking at me? I arch my brows; everyone ominously quiet.

After a few seconds, he says, “Okay. Let’s get started.”

There are around thirty people in the room. Briar is on one side of me, and Pax is on the other. Marcus and Olin are on Briar’s other side. Evander is across from me, his massive hand making the pen he’s holding look like a toothpick.

“We spread ourselves out a couple of years ago so we’re not vulnerable to a single raid or bombing decimating us,” Eli says. “There are very few people in the ILF who know everything, and that’s by design. Don’t get offended if we can’t be specific about things. It’s to protect our people, and that now includes you.”

He looks like a middle school history teacher, dressed in pressed khakis and a striped polo, his build average and his face clean-shaven. When he stands up and goes to the whiteboard covering the top half of the wall by his chair and pulls on a handle, a map of the United States comes into view.

At least it’s the outline of the former US. There are different borders on this one, and it’s jarring.

Most of the western third of the US is in a red territory labeled New America.

Fuck. They’ve expanded their borders. There are other color-coded and labeled zones, but none are nearly as large as New America.

“Whitman keeps pushing east,” Eli says. “We got a huge break a couple months ago when wildfires started spreading east from California. Whitman’s fighting them, but it’s a losing battle. Carson City is getting choked hard.”

“If only I could choke Whitman hard,” a woman says, eliciting some soft chuckles.

My gaze wanders to Evander, the only familiar face on the other side of the huge table. He’s absently tapping the end of the pen on the blank notepad in front of him. His whiskey-colored brown-and-gold eyes are a lighter shade of brown than his skin, and they’re slightly narrowed, assessing.

I force myself to look at the map and focus on what Eli is saying.

“...very limited visibility, temps approaching a hundred and twenty. No one goes outside without their skin covered, including their mouth, because the air quality is total shit.”

“One twenty?” Briar asks, her brow furrowed. “In Carson City?”

“The wildfires have damaged the ozone layer,” Eli says.

Briar nods. “So global warming is getting a huge fast-forward.”

“Exactly. The face and body coverings are to protect from rapid, severe sunburns. And the problems this is creating for Whitman have kept him from hammering us, so we need to be working harder than ever.”

“The face and body coverings are a big advantage,” Evander says.

Eli nods at him. “Yes. Our Carson City people are moving around more freely than ever. We’re hearing someone’s kidnapping the wives and children of some New America commanders, but no one knows who.”

“Sounds like the Deadmen’s MO,” a man says. “Torture them and send their body parts back to the commanders.”

A chill runs through me, and when my eyes wander to Evander, he’s already looking at me. I pretend to stretch my neck, avoiding his piercing gaze.

“Might be,” Eli says. “We’re sending more teams to Carson City. This is a great opening for us to gather intel, take out their key people, and disrupt everything we can.”

This is welcome news for me. With face coverings, I’ll be unrecognizable in New America’s capital.

Eli continues updating everyone on changes to territorial boundaries, supply missions, and goals for the next few weeks. Then he sits back down and clears his throat, looking around the table.

“That’s it for today. Marcus, Briar, Pax, Amira, Olin, and Evander, I need you to stay. Everyone else can go. Fuck New America.”

There’s a rumbling group response of “Fuck New America” as people rise from their seats.

Briar looks at me, her lips quirking with a smile. “I like it here.”