A stark white beam of light abruptly appears. It’s a spotlight, blazing down from a point of unknown origin in the sky. It fixes itself directly on lizard boy.
“God— No! Please— I’ll go back!” the boy starts screaming loudly. “Just don’t—Just don’t take me!”
I peer at lizard boy through the beam of white light, squinting to see better. In the brightness, I can see all the holes in his tattered clothes. His emaciated arms are like sticks, and there’s dirt all over him. His hollow cheeks make him look half starved.
His green face paint glistens in the burning white spotlight. The noise of the rotors is even louder now.
As I watch, a thick black wire—almost like a tentacle—uncoils from the shaft of white light and races down toward the frozen figure. Another one follows it. Then another. And another.
Lizard boy has stopped screaming. He’s just gaping in horror at whatever he sees above him in that white light. I wonder why he doesn’t try to run, but obviously he’s panicking. I can’t tell if the tentacles are alive or mechanical. They move with terrific speed, like writhing snakes in search of prey.
The tentacles wrap themselves around the boy in one second flat, pinning his arms and legs tightly to his body, immobilizing him. He starts sobbing, words giving way to cries of pain and fear.
The tentacles tighten even more. In an instant he’s jerked upright. For a moment, he dangles a few feet above the ground, like a spider at the end of its web. He opens his mouth to scream, but he can’t get enough air.
“No,” he mouths.
Then he’s whipped straight upward into the beam of light, right toward its source.
The spotlight immediately cuts off.
The rotor noises diminish, as does the high-pitched whine. Within thirty seconds, the night sky is calm and peaceful again. I hear only a distant thrum as whatever it was moves rapidly onward.
I sink to the ground, shaking and dizzy. I don’t understand what I just saw.
What were those tentacle things?
Why did they kidnap the drone?
Gadya crouches down next to me. “You okay?”
“No.” My lips are numb, and my mouth is dry. “What the hell just happened?”
“We got attacked by the Monk’s drones. From the looks of it, three of ’em almost got you and Rika.”
“No, one of them was David. The drones made him paint his face red. Told him he had to kill someone.”
“An initiation rite. He’s lucky to still be alive.”
“But what was that other thing?” I ask. “The thing in the sky.”
Gadya doesn’t answer. She just asks, “Can you stand?”
I struggle to my feet. Two hunters are already questioning Rika. I can tell she’s explaining everything to them.
“Buck up,” Gadya tells me. “Maybe we’ll get another chance to save David.” She looks me up and down. “I’m glad you fought back. Or tried to. That means there’s a chance you’ll live longer than a week.” She sticks her spear into the earth, where it stands upright. “The passive ones? The weak ones? They’re only good for a few days.”
“But what was that noise? And those tentacles . . .” I swallow hard. “You have to tell me.”
She looks at me. “I’m sorry you had to see that on your first day. I was on the wheel for two weeks before I saw someone get taken.”
“Taken?”
“The light, the noises. The whole shebang.” She pauses. “We don’t call them tentacles, though. They’re not alive. They’re robotic filaments, attached to the bottom of some kind of helicopter, probably unmanned. We call them feelers.”
My hands are still shaking, so I cross my arms and bury my fists in my armpits. “Where do the feelers come from? What do they want?”
“No one knows. But once someone gets taken, we never see them again. We don’t know where they go, or what happens. They just never come back to the wheel. We figure they get killed.”
Rika walks over to us. Her glasses are askew, smeared with mud. “Scary, right? You did good.”
“Thanks,” I say, feeling empty and quavering inside.
“Look on the bright side,” Gadya declares. “Now we’ve got one less drone to worry about.” She bends down and picks something up. It’s lizard boy’s lighter. She flicks the flint, and a yellow flame appears. “Nice.” She slips it into her back pocket.
“How do I know one of those feelers won’t come after me?” I ask.
“The odds of getting taken are pretty small, if you play by the rules. It mostly happens to people when they cross from one sector to another. Our best guess is that it’s a UNA enforcement mechanism, to make us stay where we belong. We don’t know why the UNA even cares about the sectors, but if we cross over into the Monk’s sectors, or his drones cross into ours, this kind of thing tends to happen. Not all the time, and obviously not to everyone.”
“We cut off part of a feeler once,” Rika adds. “Well, I mean, Liam and some of the other hunters did, with a knife. It just looked like a piece of electrical cable with tiny wires inside.”
Gadya and Rika exchange looks. I get the sense they know some things they’re not sharing with me yet, but I don’t press them.
We start walking back to the fire pit. I’m trying to mask my total horror over the feeler attack, as well as my inability to help David. “Tell me about Liam,” I say, hoping to focus on something positive. But I don’t get a good reaction from Gadya.
“He’s the best hunter and tracker in our village,” she replies tersely, her shoulders tensing. “Let’s just leave it at that, okay?”
Rika pipes up. “Liam and Gadya dated for a while—”
“Shut up!” Gadya snaps. “Remind me to kick your butt later.”
Rika cackles. She seems a little giddy now that the battle is over. Meanwhile, I’m more frightened than ever. And because Liam is obviously a sensitive subject, I don’t know what else to say.
“Get some rest,” Gadya tells me. “The drones won’t attack us again tonight. They get tired too.”
I look around and see other members of the village already cleaning things up. They’re getting the camp together again and tending the fire. Hammering splintered cabins back together with homemade tools. It’s like they’ve just accepted the drone attacks—and the risk of getting taken—as normal parts of everyday life. Maybe I’ll end up feeling the same way, if I live long enough.
“Come on,” Gadya says, taking my arm and pulling me toward a row of vine hammocks slung between trees. “If you can’t sleep, at least lie down. You look like you’re going into shock. We usually take turns keeping watch and doing chores, but don’t worry about it tonight. You get a free pass for being a newbie.”
Rika nods in agreement. “I can bring you something to eat. The drones trashed our stew and ruined dinner, but we’ve still got fruit. Strawberries and coconuts.”
I feel too sick to eat. Up until the feeler attack, I thought I was doing okay, given the circumstances. Now I’m not so sure.
“Listen, there’s no way I can sleep or eat,” I say. “Not after what I saw. So let me help. Give me something useful to do.”
Gadya looks surprised. “Sure. You can help gather wood for the fire. But stay inside the camp’s perimeter. Rika will go with you. I gotta go talk to Veidman about something.”
Rika nods. As we start walking, I wonder if I have what it takes to survive on the wheel. If not, I wonder if I can learn the skills I need and find the heart to keep going.
I think about David, stuck out there with zebra-face and the other drones. I’m scared for him. And I think about Liam. He was the boy I saw on the museum screen, out of all the kids on the entire wheel. I’m not hugely superstitious, but I still think there’s something significant about that. I wonder what his first night on the wheel was like, if it was anything like mine. Today he rushed off so bravely to fight the drones. Was he always like that, or did the wheel help shape him?
Rika and I start bending do
wn, picking up branches, gathering the firewood. I make an effort to calm down and focus on the task. I try not to think about what fresh horrors the wheel might have in store for me tomorrow.
THE INTERLOPER
LATER THAT NIGHT, AFTER gathering firewood and eating some berries with a group of other villagers, I finally lie down in one of the surviving hammocks. My body instantly succumbs to exhaustion and battle fatigue. The rest of the night passes in what feels like one second.
When I wake up early in the morning, I lie there for a moment in the heat before I sit up. It must be ninety degrees already, even in the shade. My hair is matted with sweat, and my muscles are cramped and knotted. I see slices of cloudless blue sky between the palm fronds above me. All around, I hear the noises of the village.
I was dreaming that I was home. Not at the orphanage, but back with my mom and dad when I was a little girl. Running around with other kids, when we would go on vacations to Old Florida. Back when books and computers and everything else were still allowed. Back before the UNA became something larger than the people it was meant to represent. Before Minister Harka took total control.
I wish I could crawl back into the world of my dream and turn it into reality. I want to relive those lazy days with my parents: eating good food, watching TV, reading books, and playing games with neighborhood kids. I didn’t think those things would ever come to an end.
But those days are gone, I tell myself bluntly. They were all just a pleasant dream—so get over it. My mom and dad are never coming back home because they probably died long ago. And I’m never going back home either. Home has been obliterated. I’m probably fated to spend the rest of my days on this island, fighting to stay alive. So the sooner I get used to it, the better for everyone. At least I have girls like Gadya and Rika on my side.
I swing myself out of the hammock and pull back my hair, wishing I had a rubber band to keep it out of my face. I walk into the sunlight. It’s even hotter here. The odor of grilling bacon hangs in the air.
A figure steps into view. It’s Veidman.
“Sleep well?” he asks.
I immediately feel self-conscious. I don’t need a mirror to know how bad I look. But I try to play it off. “Better than I thought I would.”
“Listen, I’m sorry about the whole truth serum thing yesterday.” He almost sounds sheepish.
“It’s okay.”
“Good, ’cause I need to talk to you about last night.”
We start walking together along one edge of the clearing.
“Have they got you pulling chores yet?” he asks as we stroll past some other kids. Most of them are already awake, starting their workday repairing damage from the drone attack.
“Who do you mean by ‘they’? I thought you were in charge. You and Meira.”
He laughs softly. “In some ways. Not all.” He pauses for a second. I try to smooth down my tangled hair. “You drink coffee?”
I stop walking. “Wait— You have coffee here?”
“We roast our own. Come with me.” Veidman and I walk along a narrow path at the edge of the camp. “So, I didn’t see the incident last night,” he finally says. “I was fighting in the woods. But Rika says you watched someone get taken?”
“I’ve been trying not to think about it.”
“The first time I saw something like that, I was afraid it was going to happen to me next. I’d wake up in the night. Panicking. Sweating. Freaking out.”
“It’s hard to imagine you like that.” Veidman has an aura of authority, like an adult.
“You’d be surprised,” he replies.
He takes me over to one of the thatched huts, which is stocked with rudimentary provisions. He pours a pungent liquid from a decanter into two chipped ceramic mugs and hands one to me. I take a sip. It’s sludgy like molasses but tastes delicious. We sit down in homemade wooden chairs near the door.
“This better not have any truth serum in it,” I only half-joke as I hoist my mug.
“The only drug in there is caffeine.” He takes a swig from his cup. “See? Totally safe.” His eyes dance. “Like I said, I’m sorry I had to test you yesterday, but not everyone on the wheel is who they appear to be.”
“I know. Gadya told me.” I take another sip. “Why don’t you just give truth serum to everyone in this village and find out who the spy is? I mean, if there is a spy.”
Veidman looks off into space for a moment. “Meira won’t let me. I wanted to, but she made a case against it. Said if we forced people to take the truth serum, it would make us as bad as Minister Harka and the UNA. A lot of kids agreed with her.” He glances down at his coffee mug in contemplation. “We made a compromise. We agreed to test the new kids who arrive, and just watch everyone else really closely.” He shrugs. “Who knows? Maybe I’m wrong to use the serum at all.” Veidman’s eyes have a faraway look in them.
“So you’ve been on this island three and a half years?” I say, to keep the conversation going.
“Just about.”
“And somehow you’ve stayed sane.”
“The wheel gets easier with time. The rules are simple: Just fight the drones and avoid the feelers. You can survive and make a new life for yourself in our village. No ID cards. No earpieces. You can reinvent yourself. Become whoever you want to be.” His eyes grow even more distant. “Some days I’m not even sure we should be searching for a way off the wheel—but don’t tell anyone I said that.”
“You really think there’s a way off?”
He peers at me over his coffee mug. “Yes. The aircrafts in the gray zone hold the key.”
We suddenly hear footsteps crunching down the path toward us. A second later, Liam appears at the doorway. He doesn’t look like he did the night before. In fact, it takes me a second to even recognize him. He’s shirtless, hair back in a bandana, and his face and muscular torso are smeared with dried blood. His arm is still in its sling. He looks savage, like some kind of ancient gladiator, or mythological warrior. I can feel my heart start beating faster.
“What’s up?” Veidman asks, a trace of annoyance in his voice.
“You need to come right away,” Liam tells him. “We found someone during the morning hunt.” He glances at me and adds softly, “Hey, Alenna.”
I’m startled that he knows my name. It almost makes me blush. “Hey,” I tell him back.
I’m struck by the contrast between his fierce appearance and his gentle tone. And of course I’m struck by his physique. I can’t help it. My eyes drift over his olive skin.
“You’ve been out hunting?” I ask, trying to ignore the way he makes me feel.
“We took down two hoofers, and it’s not even nine o’clock.” He smiles crookedly. “Me and four other hunters. We tracked ’em for a mile, then hauled their carcasses back here. We’re gonna bury one in mud to keep it cool.”
“Great,” I say lamely, taking another sip of coffee to cover my awkwardness. I’m no good at talking to boys.
“I heard you volunteered to help with chores last night,” Liam says. “Even after the raid.”
I nod.
“Cool.” He sounds impressed, and I feel my face flush again.
“Liam, can you be more specific about who you found and why you’re bothering us right now?” Veidman interrupts. “Alenna and I were talking before you came along.”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry. A lost drone. We’ve got him tied up in the fire pit.”
Veidman puts down his mug. Looks at me. “Guess we better check it out.”
“I guess so.” I feel weird, but in a good way. For once, two attractive boys in close proximity are actually looking at me instead of completely ignoring me.
Veidman and I get up and begin heading back to the fire pit with Liam.
I want to pepper both of them with questions, but I glance over at Veidman and see that he’s looking straight ahead, preoccupied. There’s no chance to talk to Liam either, because he’s walking a few paces in front of us. I notice that even his back
has muscles.
When we reach the fire pit, a small crowd is gathered around it. The fire is out, and the pit has been cleared of last night’s wood. A figure, wrists bound with rope, is sitting in the center on a bed of ashes, his back to us.
The crowd watches the figure in silence. I expected them to be taunting or insulting the drone, but they aren’t doing any of that. They’re just staring as he sways back and forth in the pit. I spot Assassin Elite in the crowd, but other than him, these are mostly unfamiliar villagers.
Veidman immediately strides away from me and Liam, directly toward the fire pit. He walks halfway around it, stopping in front of the drone.
“What’s your name?” he asks sternly, but he receives no answer.
I hang back a little with Liam.
“We dragged him here with the hoofers,” Liam whispers to me. “He’s one of the drones who attacked the village last night.”
As we start walking around one side of the pit, I look closer. It’s only then, as I see the red face paint, that I realize this is no typical drone. “Oh my God, that’s David!” I exclaim, rushing forward.
I reach the edge of the pit a few seconds later. Most of David’s paint has been scraped off. He looks exhausted, all the energy kicked out of him. He’s dirty and bruised, and his clothes are just rags. His left foot is badly swollen. He looks over at me, and his eyes brighten with recognition.
“Alenna!”
“This is David,” I say to the crowd, looking around at everyone. “David Aberley. The kid who I woke up next to yesterday when I got here. He’s not a drone. He’s one of us. Let him go!”
The crowd eyes me like they think I’m crazy. I look around for Gadya. She could help confirm my story right now, but there’s no sign of her.
“All I want to know is what you’re doing in our sector,” Veidman says to David, ignoring me. There’s no warmth in his voice. His face is twisted into a scowl, making him look almost ugly—something I would have thought impossible just minutes earlier.
“Stop,” I plead.
The Forsaken (Forsaken - Trilogy) Page 8