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Chapter One

Eden

Don’t chicken out. Keep going .

I’ve never been more nervous in my entire life. I’m taking a huge risk, but it will work. It has to work.

Just be patient. You can do this .

I take a deep breath and watch from where I’m crouched next to the women’s dormitory as the van I’ve been expecting pulls through the front gates and backs up to the kitchen.

I’ve been waiting for over an hour. I don’t have a watch or a phone, so I have no idea what time it is. I’ve watched this van come and go every Tuesday night for months. The same man is always driving. He’s not very old. At least I don’t think he is.

He arrives after ten at night when most of the men and all of the women are asleep. He does the same thing every time. He rounds to the back of the van, opens the doors, and unloads supplies directly into the kitchen.

Amos—one of the leaders of the compound—always meets the driver, opens the double doors that lead into the kitchen, and disappears inside. The man is in his seventies. I’ve never known him to be very energetic. He certainly doesn’t help the driver.

I’ve planned this for weeks. I’ve already chickened out two Tuesdays in a row. I’m running out of time. It’s now or never. What’s the worst that could happen?

I shudder as I run through the possibilities. There are a lot of things that could happen if I get caught. I would certainly be whipped, probably in the middle of the compound where everyone could watch an example being made out of me.

After my beating, I suspect I would be put in solitary in one of the cells in the basement. I’ve never actually been in the basement, but I’ve heard about it. Anyone who disobeys the rules of the compound ends up in one of those cells. Sometimes they’re never seen again. I don’t know if they’re excommunicated or…worse.

As usual, the man opens the double doors at the rear of the van while Amos opens the back of the kitchen. The man starts unloading boxes. He goes in and out of the kitchen like clockwork. I’ve counted how many seconds each load takes him many times.

I wait for his second trip into the kitchen.

It’s time. I have to go. Now.

Grabbing the front of my full skirt, I lift it and run as hard as I can to get to the van. I’ve seen the inside because one time, the driver opened the side door. I pray he won’t do so tonight. It would ruin my plan. All of my hopes lie in the driver removing everything through the back.

Holding my breath, I open the front passenger door, climb into the van, and pull it closed. I’m shaking hard and breathing so heavily I worry he will hear me.

I squat down to the floorboard in front of the seat. For once, I’m grateful for my small size. It might mean the difference between life and death tonight.

Folding my hands in front of me, I pray. I don’t know if there really is a God. I’ve had my doubts lately. But if there is, I hope for once He’s listening.

The driver makes four more trips before I hear him speak to Amos. “That’s everything,” he says.

“Good,” Amos says, having returned from wherever he goes. “Your payment is all here as usual.”

I’ve watched Amos hand the driver an envelope every week.

“Thanks, man. Have a nice night.” The driver slams the back doors.

This is my cue to hustle over the console into the rear. The back of the van is completely empty now. It doesn’t have any seats. I manage to huddle into a ball behind the driver’s seat before the man opens his door and climbs into the van.

I don’t dare make a sound. I pray no one has seen me. There are cameras mounted around the compound. I know where two of them are. I shouldn’t show up on any of the footage.

The driver starts up the van and puts it in drive. It feels like we’re moving in slow motion, and I squeeze my eyes closed and try to be invisible as he pulls up to the gate. This is an important hurdle. I have no idea what the night watchman does each week when this delivery guy leaves. My fingers and toes are all crossed that he simply waves the driver through the gate. If he checks the van first, I’m in deep trouble.

The van slows as we approach the gate, and the next thing I know we’re pulling through without a word. The nightwatchman must have simply opened it to let the van out. Blessed angels.

I want to let out a long exhale and slump against the door, but I can’t. I don’t know this man. If he finds out I’m in the van, he might turn around and take me back.

My first hurdle was definitely getting out of the compound, but now I also have to escape this food-delivery guy. I didn’t plan past this part. I had no way to. I have no idea where we’re going or what I might encounter when we arrive. I’m winging it from here.

I’ve never been outside of the compound in my life. I don’t know a thing about the real world. Every bit of information I have is from the times I’ve inadvertently walked through a room where the television was on.

Women aren’t permitted to watch TV in my world. There are no televisions in the women’s dormitory. My exposure extends only to times when I’ve been cleaning in the main building or serving food to the men. I would never pause and actually watch the screen. If I had, I would have been punished. But occasionally, I have lingered, pretending to scrub the floor or dust in order to catch peripheral glances.

A minute or so after leaving the compound, the driver touches the dials on the dashboard in front of him and music starts playing. It’s jarring to me. I’ve only heard music a few times when it was played on television. Music is banned from the compound. According to the elders, it’s evil and leads to sin.

I’m stiff as I listen to it, worried about my soul for a minute until I decide that I rather like it. The driver is swaying to the tune, and he taps the steering wheel in time with the song.

My head is filled with so many lies, and I’ve been questioning everything I’ve ever known for months. I’m going to add music to that list. It’s so pretty. How could it be sinful? What sin is being committed here?

I sit very still, holding my knees up to my chest, trying not to rock too far in any one direction to avoid detection. My heart is racing. I have to get away with this. I can’t go back. I won’t. I’d rather die than return to the compound.

I’m not like other girls. Something is different about me. Several of the older women have said so on many occasions. For years, I’ve been chastised for being too curious, for questioning my elders, for dreaming too big.

I’m twenty years old. By the standards of my brotherhood, I’m old. I have not produced heirs for the brotherhood yet. The leaders are concerned that I’m barren.

I’ve heard the women in my compound whispering about me behind my back as though I’m defective. There are women without children in the compound, but not many, and they’re often ostracized.

A few months ago, I learned some things I’d never known. Things that have made me think. Things that have led me to flee the compound.

With every mile we move farther away from my own personal prison, I breathe easier. I’m scared out of my mind about what will happen when the van comes to a stop. I’ll likely get caught by the driver. And then what?

I know nothing about this man who is my unwitting savior. I don’t know how tight he is with the brotherhood or whether or not he will drag me back there.

I have no idea how much time passes, but I imagine it’s been about a half an hour before we finally come to a stop. There are so many lights coming in through the windshield, illuminating the empty space around me.

I’ve never seen so many lights. Red, yellow, and green stand out. I’m confused when the driver doesn’t get out. In fact, he starts up again about a minute later. Why did he stop?

I tip my head slightly to try to see, but I don’t want him to notice me. It’s too risky.

He stops again. More lights. And then again. I don’t know why.

Finally he pulls over and turns off the engine.

Heart pounding, I wait to see what will happen next. He opens the door and jumps down from the van, shutting the door behind him.

I wait for long seconds before lifting my head and looking out the front windows. So many lights, I think again. It’s loud outside, too. Voices. Lots of them. What are all these people doing outside in the dark this late at night?

I don’t see the driver. Maybe he went into a building and he’s not coming back. That’s my hope. I scramble over the console and climb into the front passenger seat. When I look out the window, I gasp. People are everywhere.

It’s so confusing, but I need to get out of this van, so I open the door and quickly exit, shutting it behind me. It’s cold. I’m not wearing a coat. I didn’t think of that. It’s getting later, thus the chill in the air.

I move toward the closest building to put some space between me and the van. If the driver comes back, hopefully he won’t realize I exited behind him. He’s never seen me before. There’s no reason he would recognize me.

Except, as I look around, I notice no one is dressed like me. Not a soul. I gathered from the small amount of television I’ve seen that other people in the world don’t dress like we do at the compound, but to see it in person is shocking.

I tip my head back and see the bright sign above my head. Club Zoom . I’m not the greatest reader, but I can read those two small words. They don’t mean anything to me, though.

There’s a long line of people waiting to go into the building. No…just women. Dozens of them. And they’re dressed nothing like me. Most of them are wearing black. Many have on tight skirts that barely cover their private parts. Most have on the strangest shirts I’ve ever seen. Not even shirts. Odd blouses that are see through. Black lace under them that covers their breasts.

I’m mesmerized. My face heats with embarrassment. Not for me, for them. Don’t they know how sinful they look?

I shake that thought from my head. Sin is a word that’s been pounded into me for my entire life. In the brotherhood, everything is a sin. I’ve heard that word dozens of times a day.

Until recently, I believed every word. Then I changed… Now I’m questioning everything. I doubt these people are sinning. I’ve been lied to.

People walk by me in both directions, hurrying. Some people come out of the place called Club Zoom, and every time they do, the big man at the door lets a few more people inside.

When I spot the driver of the van coming around the corner, I suck in a breath and flatten myself against the wall. If he sees me…

He has his arm around a woman who looks to be about my age. She has dark hair that’s cut short around her face. I’ve never seen short hair on a woman before tonight. I’ve seen all kinds of hair in the last five minutes.

The woman is giggling, and she rises to touch her lips to the man’s mouth.

He chuckles. “So, I guess you didn’t get chosen?”

“Nope. I’m still here.”

“I hope you worked that shit out of your system, babe. You’re not going back there.”

She giggles again. “Okay, okay. I just wanted to see what all the hype was about.”

They reach the van, and my driver opens the door I climbed out of. He helps the woman up into the seat and then leans in and puts his mouth on hers again for a long time.

She grabs his face and holds it while he continues. He sticks his tongue into her mouth. Gross. Why? But she seems to like it. She moans and angles her head better, letting him reach deeper into her mouth.

I can’t even blink. I feel so unbelievably ignorant.

When he finally breaks off the contact, he asks, “Were the men as tall as they say?”

“Yep. Taller. And not like a basketball player. They’re huge. Like proportionately larger humans.”

“Except they aren’t humans,” he says, chuckling.

“Right. Whatever. They look like humans,” she argues. “And they’re dressed like they’re going to a wedding. Suits, ties…” She flattens the back of her hand over her forehead and sighs.

The man laughs. “I’m fucking glad you didn’t get chosen, babe. That’s it. One night. We agreed.”

She cups his face. “Yes, honey. I won’t go back. I promise. There’s only you.”

“That’s right, babe. There’s only me. I hope you didn’t see anyone’s cock so you don’t spend the night comparing it to mine.”

She shakes her head, giggling again. “No cocks. Take me home so I can see yours, though, yeah?”

He touches her lips with his again briefly. “You got it.” And then he backs out of the door, shuts it, and jogs around to his side of the van. He never glances my direction, and I’m grateful.