The Forsaken (10 page)

The flames are now raging inside the pit like a living animal, fifteen feet high. I can feel the fire’s brutal warmth. The same two boys are still stoking it. The sky is growing darker; it’s now an ominous shade of purple-blue. Kids are streaming out of huts and from the forest, to congregate around the pit. The night is cooler, so some wear hoodies, and others have shawls and blankets around their shoulders. I notice several kids wearing shirts with defaced UNA logos on them.

“How many people live in the village?” I ask as Gadya hands me a spare blanket.

“We haven’t done a head count in months,” Rika says. “Kids keep turning up, but then there’s the Suffering, and the war with the Monk. . . . It all evens out, I guess. Maybe a couple hundred?” She looks at me. “I’m a pacifist, at least most of the time. So I’m a cook. That’s what I do here. How ’bout you?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“You got anything you’re passionate about?”

“Music,” I tell her. “Playing guitar.”

“We need more of that here,” Rika says, nodding her approval. Gadya just snorts.

The three of us eventually perch on some granite rocks near the fire. The crowd isn’t exactly noisy, but it’s not quiet, either. In the flickering light I recognize the few kids I’ve already met, plus many more. I see Assassin Elite among a group of athletic, shirtless boys to my left. By their spears and primitive bows, I deduce that they’re the hunters and warriors who protect this village.

Most of the kids sit on the ground, but some rest in ancient leather lounge chairs. The seats are cracked, with yellow stuffing poking out. I wonder how these chairs even came to be here. Or how anything else on the island got here. Like the giant stone staircase, these random items are out of place in this desolate wilderness.
What did this island used to be?

I finally see Veidman and Meira heading through the crowd toward the fire. Conversations slowly cease. Even in the pale firelight, they look so clean compared to everyone else here. Like dirt doesn’t stick to them. I feel mixed emotions. I’m still mad at Veidman for tricking me, but I guess I understand why he did it.

Veidman stands up on a gnarled tree stump. Everyone’s quiet now, watching him. The only sounds are the crackling and popping of the fire. “Greetings,” he says, sounding oddly formal.

“Greetings,” the group echoes back, like a church congregation. I wonder if this is some kind of strange village ritual.

“As you know, we got a new arrival from the UNA today,” he continues, his gaze drifting in my direction.

My stomach instantly clenches up.

Please don’t mention my name!

I want to remain anonymous, at least for a little while longer. But obviously that’s not going to happen. Everyone’s eyes are glued to me now.

“Her name is Alenna Shawcross. Gadya found her near the eastern stairway, along with a boy that we couldn’t save. Alenna passed the truth test, so she’s one of us now. Make her feel at home.”

Everyone just keeps staring at me. I wave awkwardly at the crowd like an idiot. A few kids wave back, but most of them keep staring.
Am I supposed to say something? Make a speech?
That’s not going to happen.

Meira steps up beside Veidman on another rough-hewn stump. Her voice rings out over the crackling fire: “We finally have some news about the gray zone too.” All eyes turn to her. “About what Liam found there last night.”

The crowd starts chattering with excitement and anticipation when they hear his name. I glance over at Gadya, eyebrows raised. “Who’s Liam?” She either doesn’t hear or pretends not to.

“Spit it out, Meira!” a boy’s voice bursts from the crowd.

“I don’t need to. Liam has recovered enough to speak for himself.”

At Meira’s words, the lithe silhouette of a boy emerges from behind her and Veidman. Most of the kids start clapping. Some even stand up. They all seem to love this boy, whoever he is. His silhouette moves closer to the light. Meira steps down from the tree stump so that he can take her place.

The boy’s face finally becomes visible, the flickering flames illuminating his chiseled features as he steps up onto the stump.

For a second, I just stare. Then my heart literally skips a beat, losing its rhythm for an instant.

It’s him.

The blue-eyed boy from the museum screen.

I can’t believe it.

I don’t know what to do. Not in the slightest. So I just sit there watching him, my mind racing madly. I feel overwhelmed.

In person, the sense of some kind of weird connection with him is even stronger. I feel even more drawn to him, and not just because he’s so good-looking. It’s different from that, but I don’t know how to explain it. He starts talking before I can puzzle out what I’m feeling.

“Hey, everyone,” Liam says, one hand jammed into the pocket of his jeans. His voice is low and husky. He’s wearing a gray T-shirt, and his left arm is in a sling. “Like Meira said, I’ve got news.” He looks around. Surprisingly, given his obvious status in the village, he seems a little uncomfortable with the attention. “Last night I was in the gray zone, right before the tunnel collapsed. And I finally saw what we’ve been looking for all this time. An aircraft overhead—”

The hubbub of the crowd grows louder again, drowning him out.

“Anyway,” Liam says, talking over the noise. “I tracked it in the sky for a few miles through the gray zone. I saw its lights. I think it was landing—” He breaks off.

The crowd has gone completely nuts. Some of the kids high-five each other as they hoot and holler.

I turn to Gadya. “What’s this all about?” I ask.

“It might be our ticket off the wheel,” she says, eyes shining. “We’ve been trying to spot a UNA transport aircraft for as long as I’ve been here. And it sounds like Liam might have seen one, and maybe even found where they land and take off from.” Before I can ask another question, Liam starts talking again:

“I tried to keep after it, but there were too many drones in the trees. They must have followed me through the tunnel. I had to hide for a couple hours before things cooled down. . . . You all probably know what happened on the way back. The tunnel got detonated by some crazy drones, and I barely made it out alive before sunrise.”

I’m still trying to understand what Liam is talking about, when Veidman speaks up. “Now that the tunnel’s gone, we need to find another way back into the gray zone as soon as possible, to learn where the landing strips are. If we can figure out how to hijack one of these aircrafts, then we can start—”

A sharp pop interrupts him.

At first I think it came from the fire. But then it comes again, an instant after a distant flash of light. My heart starts beating faster. I recognize this sound from back home when I was young.

Gunfire.

“The Cannibal Monk!” a boy yells, his voice taut with panic. I hear distant screams and more popping sounds. Kids start jumping to their feet all around me, grabbing homemade spears and bows. Preparing for battle. I see Liam hop down from the stump, snatch up a spear with his good arm, and dart forward in the direction of the sounds. The other hunters follow.

The dark sky above us suddenly lights up with a starburst of colorful red and blue embers.

I stand up, finally realizing what those popping noises actually are. It’s not gunfire at all.
It’s fireworks.

Back in the UNA I saw them in patriotic commercials about national pride and military service. But never once in real life. Fireworks, like so many other things, were banned back home.

I’m about to breathe a sigh of relief, when an object whizzes past my head like a rocket. I scream and duck.

It detonates in the trees at the edge of the clearing, instantly setting the branches on fire in a shower of sparks. Everyone is yelling and running past me. Some of the underbrush is alight, and the flames are spreading fast.

“Keep your head down!” Gadya calls out to me over the chaos.

A spider burst of sparkling lights explodes overhead with a boom. The air is quickly filling with acrid smoke.

“It’s a firework attack!” Gadya yells at me. “The Monk’s drones do this every couple weeks to start fires in our village.” A concussive blast drowns out the rest of her words.

Another group of shirtless warriors runs past, whooping as they plunge into the forest. They’re moving in pursuit of the invisible drones.

I hear more loud cracks as bottle rockets fizz and sputter, and smoke bombs detonate nearby. My ears are ringing. Rika gets down and presses her chunky body flat on the dirt. I do the same. Gadya remains standing.

A boy runs past and tosses her a spear. She grabs it easily, the metal tip flashing in the firelight. “I’m gonna get these psychos!” she cries. “Stay here. I’ll be right back.” Then she rushes off into the forest after the other hunters.

“Is Gadya crazy?” I whisper to Rika, my head close to hers. “Where’s she going?”

“To fight. Gadya’s a warrior. We’re just survivors.”

From our vantage point, Rika and I can see boys and girls racing everywhere. A group of them pours buckets of river water onto the burning underbrush, trying to extinguish the flames.

Fireworks keep exploding above us. I jam my fingers into my ears. Showers of multicolored sparks fall down like rain, forming pinprick afterimages that dance on my retinas.

I still can’t catch any real glimpses of the drones. They’re just shadowy figures dashing through the trees at the edges of the clearing. They hoot and cackle as they run, using slingshots and mortar tubes to shoot off aerial shells like grenades.

A particularly loud explosion makes me and Rika flinch. I blink and look back up from the ground. And when I do, my mind goes totally blank for an instant.

A pair of feet has appeared directly in front of us.

I’m hoping somehow it’s Liam, or Gadya, or one of the other hunters.

But I find myself staring up at a drone clutching a metal spear. Red war paint obscures his features, making him look demonic.

Rika instantly shrieks, “Interloper!” She rolls sideways onto her feet, surprising me with her speed. I stagger up ungracefully, several beats behind her.

We turn to run, but then I hear a familiar voice call out, “Alenna! It’s me!”

I turn around, stunned, staring at the painted drone.
“David?”

“Wait? You know this lunatic?” Rika practically screams.

David moves closer, limping, as he lowers the spear. Now that I can see his eyes, I know it’s him for sure. He’s not wearing his glasses.

“I thought you were dead!” I say.

“I talked my way out of it,” he replies, speaking fast. “Told them I’d join their cult. Said everything they wanted to hear. But they’re all insane! They painted my face and said that tonight is my initiation rite. I have to kill a villager to prove I’m for real, or else they’re going to kill me!” He moves closer. “I don’t want to kill anyone. Let me hide in your village. I can—”

“There you are!” a voice booms out. I spin around.

There’s another drone standing right behind us.

This one’s face is painted lime green, like a lizard’s. He’s holding a cigarette lighter up to the short wick of a massive cylindrical firework, as large and dangerous-looking as a bomb. He also has a knife strapped to his leather belt. We’re trapped.

“Hey, this is our sector!” Rika yells at him.

“We control this entire island,” he spits. “You girls just don’t know it yet!” He looks over at David. “Raise your spear, punk. Look alive.”

Rika stares down the lizard boy. “You better not light that firework. You’ll blow us all to kingdom come.”

“Good.” He starts baying like a wolf, and I see that his tongue is split down the middle, the two sections moving separately like worms. He stops baying and gestures at David again. “Take care of these girls, like I told you to.”

“We’re taking you back with us to the orange sector,” David says to me and Rika, halfheartedly brandishing his spear. He’s just playing a role. I look around for someone to help us, but everyone’s fighting or putting out fires.

“Draw some blood,” lizard boy coaches David. “That’ll get their attention. Go after the fat one first. That’ll scare the other one into doing whatever you want.” He grabs his crotch, making his meaning clear. “She’ll come back to our camp if she knows what’s good for her.”

“We’re not going anywhere with you,” I tell him, revolted. But my voice warbles with fear. I feel pathetic. Useless. He knows I’m scared of him.

I move closer to Rika. If it weren’t for the gigantic firework and the knife, we’d just run into the forest.

“Are you a coward, or a killer?” lizard boy starts yelling at David, seemingly enraged at his inaction. “Tonight’s your only chance! Show these villagers that you mean business!”

David lunges forward awkwardly on his injured foot, and grabs me around the neck, putting me in a loose choke hold. “Play along,” he whispers. “Maybe we can take this guy down before he does something really crazy. Just promise me I can seek shelter here and join your village?”

“Of course!” I whisper. “I wanted to come back for you, but—”

Suddenly, I see lizard boy race behind Rika, grab a fistful of her braids, and yank hard. Rika turns and fights back, kicking and punching her assailant with surprising fury for a pacifist, making him drop his cigarette lighter and back away. “Don’t mess with my hair!” she snaps.

For a second, it seems like we might have the upper hand. But right then, a third drone appears, also clutching a spear. He’s thick-necked and thuggish, with painted zebra stripes crisscrossing his face. He holds up his weapon, like he’s about to attack.

“This initiate is a wimp!” lizard boy yells over to him. I realize he’s talking about David. “He won’t draw first blood!”

“It’ll be my pleasure to do it for him.” Zebra-face lashes out and catches my arm, pulling me away from David. I stumble and nearly fall. His fingers tighten. He starts laughing like he’s enjoying himself.

His laughter makes me angrier than anything else. With a surge of energy, I rip myself free of this drone’s grasp, lashing out with my fist. The blow glances off the side of his jaw, smudging his face paint.