Redeemer Read Online Free Page B

did you say blessed?”
    Her eyebrows raise but she smiles. “You seem like you already know the answer to that question.”
    Hope makes tiny pinpricks in the bubble of despair around my heart. “Yes, I think I do. I want to know more. Are there more of you? I would like to meet the others.”
    Isabel nods slowly. “We would love to have you, Hana.”
    “But you have to make sure I’m trustworthy?”
    She laughs. “Not hardly. What more can the Greaters do to us at this point? Killing us would just send us to our Maker. We meet every Wednesday night at the northwest side of the city. It’s easy enough to find us, if you’re interested.”
    I do a mental count and figure out today is Tuesday. “I’ll be there.”
    She smiles and nods, and the line moves forward. The people are quieter today, more reserved. Tension buzzes in the air and I step closer to Isabel. “What’s going on? It seems like everyone is upset.”
    Frowning, she glances around us. “It’s the second day. If they run out of allowances this time, everyone’s out of luck until next month.”
    The severity of her words settles on me. If these people get gypped out of their food today, they will have nothing for at least another month. Will all of them live that long?
    Or will the people resort to stealing for their food—we all have to eat, don’t we? Fear settles over me as I realize the Greaters promote this lawlessness. They want these people to be violent and desperate. Then they have something to tell the Middles and Greaters, keeping us separate and at odds.
    “Line’s moving,” Isabel says.
    We step forward and make it into the building. A sigh escapes me as I take in the long lines still in front of me. It doesn’t seem as daunting today, not with the prospect of going back to Jamie when I’m finished. In fact, I’m almost excited.
    After another hour of shuffling along, we reach the grass, and a woman in a guard uniform hands me a ticket.
    I spin to Isabel. “Does this mean I get food?”
    Isabel grins. “That’s right. Even if they run out of tickets, you’ve got yours.” She leads me to a stack of old boxes and we find a place to sit until our numbers are called. Time passes slowly, but the people keep coming.
    Tension seems to thicken with every breath I take, almost making it difficult to breathe. The people on the catwalks shift restlessly. “It’s getting worse,” I whisper.
    Isabel nods and opens her mouth to answer, but before she can speak a horn blows. The same voice from yesterday comes over the speakers and announces the allowances have run out.
    Chaos erupts, making yesterday’s shouts seem peaceful.
    “Hide that ticket,” Isabel hisses.
    I shove the thick piece of paper inside my pocket and back away as people from the catwalks invade the field. They try ripping tickets from people’s hands, but the ticket holders fight back.
    Blood squirts, bones crack, people shout.
    Fear freezes me in place as I stare in horror. Is this really happening? It can’t be happening. Violence wasn’t allowed in Middle City 3. The worse I ever saw was a bully in school. After his third strike, he was taken.
    Guards rush in from somewhere across the field. They Taser people who won’t listen, and others take notice and file from the building. A group of three men break out of a huddle and charge the guards, but it doesn’t faze the brown-clad group. A big, burly guard shoves one of the men, sending him stumbling in reverse. The man trips over a box in the field and flips backwards. He lands in the high grasses Isabel pulled me away from yesterday.
    His scream pierces the air and even the guard winces.
    I grip Isabel’s arm. “What’s happening?”
    She frowns and shakes her head. “That’s why I told you not to step in the high grasses.”
    The guards finish clearing out everyone who can’t produce a ticket—I can barely get mine from my pocket when they confront me, my hands shake so badly—and my number finally