The Forsaken (Forsaken - Trilogy)

by Lisa M. Stasse

  He holds out both hands. “Look. I’m unarmed. I snuck out and came here alone. And it was a long journey.”

  “Why did you come at all?” I realize that my blade is still half-raised, so I lower it.

  “To find you. Every single thing I told you is true.”

  “Look at you. You’re wearing robes. If anyone sees you, they’ll say you’re a drone now for sure! They’ll try to kill you.”

  “I’m just living with the drones to get answers. If I were a drone, I’d be drunk and lobbing fireworks at everyone—or planning ways to tear down your village. Instead I’m risking my life to help you.”

  “How did you escape from your cell when the other prisoners got killed? You owe me some answers. Everyone says your people came and rescued you. That you set me up and tried to dupe me, so I’d help you become part of this village. So you could spy on us.”

  He’s shaking his head. “That’s crazy. That’s not what happened.”

  “I believe you, but others won’t. And honestly, it’s getting harder to tell whose side you’re on, David.”

  “I’m on my own side!” He moves even closer. “Haven’t you heard of individuality? Alenna, look, there are places on this island that are pretty much desolate. No drones, no villagers. Just lots of land. I’ve heard that sometimes kids just leave and go live on their own, or in small groups in the forest. There aren’t any natural predators on this island. The only things to fear are other people. I came here to tell you that we could leave together, and just go somewhere and create our own society. Or find a group of kids who aren’t fighting each other all the time.”

  “We’d just get killed.” I pause. “If you’re for real, then come back with me to the village right now. Tell Veidman and the others everything you learned from the drones. I can offer you safe passage.”

  He shakes his head. “I’d get locked up again and drugged. At least at the drones’ camp I can do whatever I want, pretty much. I lied and told them that I killed a villager, so now they think I’ve passed my initiation rite. But they’re not all evil. Most of them are just running wild and don’t know where to turn. That’s what makes them so dangerous.”

  “David, do you swear you’re telling the truth about everything?”

  “I swear it.”

  “You still haven’t explained how you escaped from the kennels,” I point out. “Especially when all the other prisoners got torched.”

  “I didn’t escape.” He pushes his glasses up his nose again. “All I know is that some drones turned up and opened my kennel, and I ran. Like anyone else would. I wanted to get away from Markus so he didn’t beat me anymore, and from Veidman so he couldn’t test his serums on me. I didn’t find out until later that the drones burned the other prisoners alive. Maybe they didn’t want me or anyone else talking to you. I’m as scared as you are. I’m just staying with the drones because there’s no place else to go. I’d rather be here with you than with them, if I could.”

  Before I can ask him any more questions, he speaks up again:

  “I need to get back to my camp in the orange sector before they notice I’m gone—or before one of your perimeter guards finds me. I’ll contact you again soon. Just be careful. Watch your back.”

  I nod. “I will.” I don’t mention Operation Tiger Strike. I wonder if he even knows about it.

  He raises his cowl and steps backward. “We could leave all this madness behind and start our own thing. Create a new New Providence on the wheel. That is, if you’re willing to leave your little boyfriend behind and take a chance.”

  “So you’ve been spying on me!”

  “Looking out for you is more like it. Just think about what I said.”

  I stare at him, my torch reflected in his glasses. His plan sounds suicidal. But I realize he might be one of the only kids on the wheel even making an attempt to straddle the two worlds of the village and the Monk’s camp. I think back to when it was just the two of us. When we first woke up on the island and everything seemed so peaceful. No villagers or drones. Maybe David has a point after all.

  He takes another step back, in between the trees. In the darkness, his robes make him nearly invisible.

  “Remember, civilization is what we make it,” his disembodied voice says. “It might turn out that Veidman and the Monk are equally wrong about how to approach life on the wheel.”

  Before I can think of a good response, he’s gone. Vanished back into the forest. I look for him, raising my torch. But there’s no sign of him.

  I want to run back and tell everyone in the village about David’s return, but I know it could jeopardize their trust in me if they think I’m fraternizing with the enemy.

  As I start walking back to the safety of the main clearing, my encounter starts to seem like a mirage or hallucination. Or a ghost. I don’t know who David really is—let alone what his agenda is anymore. I could be in serious trouble. I quicken my pace, heading toward the fire pit.

  THAT NIGHT I GET only a few hours of sleep. As the sun rises over the island in the morning, the sky takes on a reddish hue. It’s finally time for Operation Tiger Strike to take effect.

  Veidman and Meira stand before us at the fire pit in the sun, surveying the entire village. Nearly everyone is here, except for the Ones Who Suffer and some guards. This is the last time all of us will be together for a while—possibly forever.

  “Those of you staying may face tougher challenges than those leaving,” Veidman says, his voice ringing out in the silence. “My thoughts will be with everyone who remains behind.” I notice he doesn’t say “prayers” or anything like that. There’s no religious talk in the village, and there never has been. The Monk has usurped everything religious on the wheel by twisting it into something perverted. The closest thing to religion in the village is probably Rika’s pacifism.

  For once, kids don’t chatter in response to Veidman’s words.

  “Say your good-byes,” Veidman instructs somberly. “The hunters and I will be leaving in half an hour, heading north.”

  A girl nearby breaks down crying, and she is quickly consoled by two of her friends. I feel a pang of longing for the village. It’s the only safe place I know of on the wheel. Maybe I’m making the wrong choice. But I have to find out about my parents.

  “Veidman’s really dragging this nonsense out,” Gadya mutters in my ear impatiently. “Let’s get going already!” I glance at her and see that she’s a war chest of weaponry. Along with her homemade pack, she’s carrying two bows, a clutch of arrows, and a spear that doubles as a walking stick. She sees me staring. “Better safe than sorry.”

  I just have my simple bow and a few arrows that Liam made. And my knife. I haven’t brought the guitar. There’s no room for it in my pack, and I know we’re going into a place where making unnecessary noise could put lives in danger. I’m hoping Liam will understand. I wish I could think of something to do for him that is half as nice as making the guitar.

  I glance up and see that now the group of male hunters is standing in a shirtless row. Liam, Markus, Sinxen, and about ten other boys. All of them are carrying plenty of weapons, including some massive metal-tipped spears. The boys look fierce, and I’m glad they’re on our side.

  My eyes gravitate to Liam. He notices my gaze, and his face softens a little. He risks a subtle wink. My heart surges.

  “We will find a way off the wheel,” Veidman is saying. “We can find an answer. . . .” He looks at Meira, faltering a little. “I guess that’s about it.”

  Some of the kids applaud him.

  “See you in half an hour,” he murmurs, and climbs down from the stump, followed by Meira.

  “I guess we should say good-bye to Rika,” I tell Gadya.

  “She’ll just cry like a big baby. Let’s not make a production out of it.”

  “Gadya! We have to say good-bye. You guys are friends.”

  “Okay, okay,” she says, exasperated. Her eyes are watching Liam. I want to talk to her about him, but
it never seems like the right time, and also, I’m chicken.

  In any case, neither of us can find Rika. We search the cooking areas, but there’s no sign of her.

  “She’s gone to help the Ones Who Suffer,” a girl tells us vaguely.

  “Looking for Rika was a dumb idea,” Gadya snaps at me. “She obviously doesn’t care about us.”

  We trudge back to the fire pit. The troops are amassing. I realize that roughly one tenth of the camp is leaving, and the rest are staying. That means nearly twenty of us will be forging ahead into the jungle. Other than the male hunters, there are a couple of hut builders, me and Gadya, and then Veidman.

  The ones who are going are easy to spot, because of their weapons and their packs. Along with my bow and arrows, I have a pack too, slung over one shoulder and filled with cups and tallow candles. Others carry different provisions. Several of the sturdier boys are carrying our water tureens and flasks.

  For security reasons involving the potential spy, no maps have been drawn of the bulk of our journey to the city on the shore of the gray zone. Those details have been committed to memory by Veidman, Liam, and a few trusted others. They couldn’t risk writing them down, which means we’ll be relying on their mental notes to reach our goal—a pretty risky proposition.

  We wave our final good-byes to everyone as we follow Veidman onto a trail and into the verdant jungle. I’m surprised that Rika didn’t say good-bye to us. Maybe it was too much for her. I’m lost in the sea of my own thoughts and emotions. I’m sad about leaving, but also filled with nervous excitement about what lies ahead.

  Liam and some hunters walk at the front of our line, with a few of the other hunters bringing up the rear. Gadya and I are near the middle.

  After just ten minutes of hiking through the thick vegetation, I already start feeling tired. I don’t know how I’m going to manage too many miles.

  “So, you didn’t bring your guitar?” Gadya asks me out of the blue.

  Startled, I turn to her. “No.”

  “You think I don’t know about you and Liam.” She doesn’t sound mad anymore. Just sort of resigned. “Well, I do. I’ve even talked to him about it.”

  I stop walking for a second. “You have? Liam never mentioned that.”

  “Yeah. Well, don’t worry. Everything’s cool. I’m not going to flip out on you.”

  I’m not sure what to say. “I tried not to let anything happen. You have to believe me. All we did was kiss. Once. No, wait. Twice, technically.”

  “I know how it is. Liam has an effect on people.” She laughs, but it sounds forced. “Really, it’s okay. It’s time for me to move on anyway. It’s not like there aren’t enough other cute guys around.”

  “You sure you’re okay with this?”

  “I’m trying to be.”

  “Thanks, Gadya,” I tell her. I feel relieved that she knows the truth. But also really guilty, because I tried to hide something from her.

  “Just remember what I told you about him,” she adds. “Don’t forget that I tried to warn you.”

  “Sure.”

  We keep walking.

  An hour passes. Then another.

  Sometimes we talk among ourselves, but mostly we’re silent. Gadya doesn’t mention Liam again. She also doesn’t seem bothered by the weight of her pack and her weapons. Meanwhile, my pack is killing me.

  Suddenly, our line comes to a stumbling halt.

  “What—” I begin, but Gadya flashes me a concerned look.

  “Listen,” she mouths, motioning at the forest to our left.

  At first I hear nothing. Then comes a faint rustling in the trees. The sound of twigs snapping underneath feet. I know it’s not a hoofer. Their hoofbeats are heavier, wilder.

  Boys start raising their weapons. I’m not sure whether I should slot an arrow into my bow. Probably, but I don’t want to risk making noise. Instead I unsheathe my knife with a shaking hand.

  No one makes a move. We just stand there.

  Veidman suddenly shouts, “Show yourself!” His words ring out in the forest, loud and confident. Birds squawk and fly from the trees into the gray sky. “We’re from the blue sector. And we’re armed.” He lies: “There’s a hundred of us!”

  The footsteps increase their pace and volume. The person is heading straight at us. My pulse quickens. Bows are being drawn all around me, including Gadya’s.

  “Now there’s a hundred and one of you, Veidman,” a girl’s voice suddenly yells.

  A second later, the girl crashes out of the foliage, skidding onto the path.

  Rika.

  “I almost killed you!” Gadya yells. “Are you crazy?”

  Veidman rushes over as I lower my knife and exhale. Rika seems oblivious to the fact that she nearly got skewered by a bevy of arrows and spears.

  “I know I’m late. I know— But better late than never, right?”

  “You gotta be more careful!” Liam says, helping her up.

  “Sorry.” Rika climbs to her feet.

  “Why’d it take you so long to make the right decision?” Markus grumbles. We’re all gathering around Rika now as she brushes leaves and dirt off her clothes.

  “Cooking’s what I do. You all know that. I’m not a hunter or a builder.” She takes a breath, and then keeps going. “But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that you need a cook.”

  We all just stare at her blankly.

  “You might work your magic with weapons,” she continues. “But I work mine with roots, leaves, and hoofer meat. There are plenty of cooks back at the village. But not a single one here. Until now.”

  “How’d you even find us?” a hunter asks. “You’re not a tracker.”

  “I have my ways,” she retorts. “Don’t underestimate me. I can smell hickory bark a quarter mile away, and a patch of mint even farther than that. You think I can’t find a slow-moving group of twenty kids hiking through the forest? Please.”

  “It shouldn’t be this easy to find us,” Gadya mutters. “We need to do a better job of covering our tracks.”

  A lot of the hunters don’t know what to make of Rika’s sudden appearance. They’re probably wondering if she’ll be a liability. But the more I think about it, her decision makes perfect sense. Everyone will fight better with a full stomach.

  “Someone help her with her pack,” Veidman instructs.

  He says this because her pack is crammed with cooking pots, and hollow wooden bowls. It’s like she tried to cram her entire kitchen kit into there.

  “No, I can carry it. Really,” she protests as a few hunters step forward and grab some items to lighten her load.

  “Take this,” Liam says, giving her one of his spears.

  “What am I gonna do with that? It’s too big to stir a pot.” But she takes it anyway.

  Markus moves over and says something softly to Veidman. Veidman nods in agreement. “We need to keep moving. Each time we pause, we give the drones a chance to attack.”

  As we start hiking again, Rika falls back and joins Gadya and me near the middle-rear of the line.

  “We came looking for you to say good-bye,” I tell Rika, so she doesn’t think we ditched her.

  “If I knew you wanted to come, I would have trained you, too. Like I did with Alenna,” Gadya complains.

  “Then I’m glad you didn’t know.” Rika pokes Gadya’s arm. “I’m no athlete.”

  “Neither is Alenna, believe me.”

  “Hey, watch it!” I say, although I’m pretty sure Gadya’s just teasing.

  We continue hiking for the next hour. Rika’s sunny disposition has lightened the burden in my heart. And now we have her stew to look forward to for lunch and dinner, instead of dried rations of cured hoofer meat.

  Yet another hour passes. Then another. Time becomes fluid. At some point we pass the invisible boundary that divides the edge of the blue sector from the orange one, but no one makes a big deal out of it, which is probably for the best.

  If you control your fea
r, then you keep your mind clear. That’s a line I learned from Gadya.

  I think about David. It’s hard to believe he was serious about splitting with the two factions and doing his own thing. On this island, setting off on one’s own might be the most courageous—or stupid—act of all. Crazier even than going to war or hiking into the gray zone.

  The sun moves overhead, grilling us with its heat, even through the canopy of trees. It’s hard to imagine the gray zone being cold. For now, all the coats, gloves, and other winter wear are stowed inside our packs.

  The hike is going well—so well that I start to get complacent, the very thing Gadya warned me against. But we all do. Our voices grow too loud, and even the hunters are lulled into the rhythm of the hike. They relax, their bows no longer at the ready. It’s just too hard to stay that tense, hour after relentless hour.

  Between lulls in the conversation, my thoughts drift to Liam. To David. To my parents. And most of all to the rocks that I’ll be searching for once we find a way into the gray zone.

  The last thing I’m worrying about is walking straight into an ambush.

  THE ATTACK

  WE’RE STILL HIKING WHEN the first arrows hit. I’m just putting one tired leg in front of the other and listening to Rika tell us about the stew she’s going to cook tonight.

  But Gadya stops moving and looks distracted about a second before everyone else. I’m just about to ask if she’s okay, when something whisks right past my face. It’s so close it blows back a strand of my hair, and nearly grazes the tip of my nose. Stupefied, I stumble backward. And when I turn my head, I see an arrow sticking out of a tree trunk about three feet away, still quivering.

  “Close ranks!” Veidman immediately screams.

  At the same moment I realize that my worst fears have come true.

  We’re under attack!

  Everything Gadya taught me goes out of my mind instantly. It’s like I’m frozen. Nothing seems real. Although I’ve been under siege twice already, both times were back at the safety of the village. This is different. Out here we’re exposed. And we’re technically in the Monk’s territory.