The Forsaken (16 page)

“How far do you think the wheel is from the mainland?”

“Veidman told me that some kids built a boat a few years ago. They sailed out for eighty miles. Nothing but ocean. They barely made it back alive. Veidman thinks we’re thousands of miles from dry land.”

I mull this over. “But if any of us ever do escape somehow, won’t they just send us back here when we get home to the UNA? Or worse?”

Liam grins. “Who said anything about going home? There are other countries on the globe. The European Coalition. Allied West Africa. Asiana. Most of them are at war with the UNA. Think of all the inside info we have that we could trade for new lives. And if it doesn’t work, at least we tried. We didn’t just sit around waiting to die before we turned eighteen.”

He reaches out and touches my knee. The gesture is sudden. I don’t expect it. I feel a rush of longing to clasp my fingers over his. The feeling takes me by surprise. I want to tell him everything right then and there. But I can’t. Not yet.

I see the passion to take action burning in his eyes, and I realize this is why he’s a hunter and a scout.

I also know he’s right. There are already so many ways to die on this island that getting off it can’t be much worse. I realize my eyes are locked with his, so I look away, breaking the intensity of our gaze. I’m not a particularly romantic girl, but I have to admit that Liam is getting to me.

It’s then that I see Gadya emerge from the forest, heading our way. I glance back at Liam. He takes his hand off my knee. I feel embarrassed, like I’m doing something wrong. I owe Gadya so much. The last thing I want to do is accidentally flirt with Liam, especially since she asked me to back off.

I stand up quickly and say, “Hey” as Gadya reaches us.

She holds out part of a plastic label, the kind you might find on a bottle of government-issue soda pop.

“Check this out,” she says to us. “Edie just found it in the stream.”

Liam takes the wrapper and scrutinizes it. There are rows of numbers and figures printed on it. A few nonsensical words.

“What is it?” I ask.

Liam hands it to me. “See these drawings?” he asks, pointing at the wrapper. “They’re chemical formulas. And those words? Again, lists of chemicals.”

He and Gadya exchange a look. I can read the look well. It says,
How much should we tell the new girl about what we know?

“It’s fertilizer, or some kind of drug,” Liam finally says. “These labels must come from its packaging. We keep finding them in the underbrush. We know they’re fresh because they’re stamped with this year’s date.”

“The chemicals could be causing the Suffering,” Gadya adds.

Liam takes the wrapper back. “Veidman thinks the feelers dispense chemicals in the atmosphere, and sometimes these labels accidentally get dropped too. No one’s ever seen it happen, though. Or knows why.”

“Maybe they’re just dumping garbage here,” I propose. “The wheel could be one big trash heap for the UNA.”

Liam stands up. “I’m gonna jet this over to Veidman. I think he’s started collecting them.”

Gadya nods.

Liam leaves his pile of arrows and heads off rapidly into the forest. I stand there for a second, watching him disappear.

Gadya is about to say something to me, but right then we both hear a loud scream. It comes from deep within the forest, opposite from the direction that Liam went.

Then we hear another scream, and I realize that they’re not screams at all but war whoops.
Deranged cries of elation, coming from an army of drones.

“Crap,” Gadya mutters.

Warning calls go out around us as the village explodes into action. Kids burst from trees, shacks, hammocks, and from around the fire pit, shouting orders. Boys rush around, getting ready to fight and defend the village.

“I thought the drones only attack at night!” I yell.

“Guess someone forgot to tell ’em that.” Gadya grabs my arm. “Quick. This way.”

I catch glimpses of menacing shadows racing through the trees. Painted bodies clutching spears. Gadya and I dash over to a stash of bows, spears, and other weapons hidden in a trench near the base of a eucalyptus tree.

“Grab something!” she yells at me.

I have no clue how to fire an arrow with any accuracy, so I snatch up a heavy wooden spear.

Gadya goes for a bow. She already has a knife strapped in an ankle sheath. My chest tightens with panic, but my mind remains clear. I’ve been through one of these attacks already. I can get through another.

“You don’t know how to fight, do you?” Gadya asks. “Hand to hand, I mean.”

My heart pounds faster now, beating out a staccato rhythm. I feel the blood pumping through my veins. “No, of course not.”

“Then you better learn fast. I told you the wheel isn’t for wimps.” She glances at me. “Grab that spear tighter. Use both hands. Make it clear you can’t be messed with. Get
fierce
!”

She notches an arrow into her bow, holding the weapon like a natural extension of her body. I know that if a drone comes through the trees, she’ll let him have it right through the chest.

Yet despite all the screaming and running, no one comes barging out. In fact, the sounds are already lessening a bit. Like the drones are moving onward. Maybe another distant village in this sector is their target today, not us.

Gadya keeps her eyes trained on the verdant wall of trees surrounding our side of the clearing. Behind us I see other kids doing the same, bows ready. I’m just relieved that the drones are heading away from us. I lower my spear, resting the tip on the dirt.

Then Gadya says, “We can’t let them get away.”

I hesitate. We’re safe here. Or as safe as anyone can be on this island during the middle of a battle.

Gadya notices my reluctance to give chase. “C’mon, what do you have to lose?”

“My life?”

“If it weren’t for those of us who fight, you wouldn’t have a life! Don’t be like Rika and the other girls who let boys fight all their battles.”

Kids start flocking past us into the forest, weapons drawn. Some remain behind, probably to guard the fire pit and the Ones Who Suffer, but most head in pursuit of the drones.

“Come on, Alenna!” Gadya yells, plunging into the foliage. “Do or die!”

I have a choice to make. Gadya has thrown down the gauntlet, and it’s up to me whether I accept the challenge. For a second I swear that I’m going to stay behind.

Then I realize I don’t want to be anonymous here, like I was back in the UNA. I want to be part of something bigger. I want Gadya and Liam to respect me. And I also want to survive. So I yell, “Hey! Wait up!”

Then I take a deep breath and plunge into the trees after Gadya.

BATTLE CRY

I CAN HEAR KIDS
all around me running, yelling, and laughing maniacally in the thick foliage. I feel like I’m in the middle of an invisible stampede. It’s hard to even see Gadya, and she’s only a few paces ahead of me.

I slip and almost fall, banging my spear against a tree trunk. The blow reverberates up the weapon and makes my hands throb. But I keep my grasp. I smell smoke, but I don’t know where it’s coming from.

Gadya stops abruptly.

“Wait!” she says. We’re both gasping for air. The whole time we’ve been running, she has kept her bow ready.

“What?”

“Up ahead— Between those trees.” We creep forward through the brush.

I follow her gaze and see nothing but green leaves. Then I hear heavy footsteps thundering toward us, and branches begin to rustle.

“Hey!” Gadya calls out, aiming her bow. “If you don’t stop moving, I’m gonna put an arrow between your eyes!”

The footsteps don’t stop.

A second later, a large figure shoves branches out of its way and stands before us. It’s a robed drone, but this one looks nothing like the ones I’ve seen so far.

This drone is a girl.

Her head is shaved down to blond stubble, and her face is painted zombie white, with black marking under her eyes. She’s also about six inches taller than either me or Gadya. I’ve never seen a girl who looks like this, like some savage Amazonian warrior. She’s holding a homemade ax with a chipped, rusty blade.

Even Gadya looks taken aback, but she keeps her bow steady. “Are you deaf? Didn’t you hear what I said? Back the hell off.”

The girl bares her sharp yellow teeth. She looks monstrous, terrifying. I almost hope that a feeler drops down from the sky and snatches her up. But it doesn’t happen.

Gadya flourishes her bow. “I’ve killed before. I’ll do it again.”

I realize I should say something too. Yet I’m too scared to even speak. So I just raise my spear and point it at the huge girl, even though she could probably swat it away in a second. She raises her ax.

“I’m giving you fair warning,” Gadya says, her voice like steel. “Three seconds to turn around and leave. I don’t want to kill you. That’s not my way. But I’ll skewer your heart and send you straight to hell if you make me.”

The big girl looks in my direction, still silent. I try to hold the spear steady, but my hands are shaking.

Gadya begins her countdown: “Three . . . two . . .”

The big girl doesn’t look frightened. The corners of her mouth curl upward to display even more of her teeth.

Gadya begins to mouth the word “One.”

I’m watching the drone closely, and I see the muscles in her jaw ripple. It’s a subtle movement, but I can tell that right then she’s planning to spring forward and leap at us with the ax.

I have to do something. Gadya’s preoccupied with aiming her arrow. Time slows down to a crawl. This drone is not going to turn around and leave.
She is going to hack us up into little pieces.

Before I can think too much, I fling my spear right at her deranged painted face.

At the same instant, the girl makes her move and lunges forward, which means my spear misses its target. The wooden shaft rebounds harmlessly off her muscled shoulder. But the blow is enough to distract her and momentarily slow her down.

That split second gives Gadya an advantage. The arrow flies from her bow with a twang and sinks directly into the center of the girl’s chest. The girl unleashes a scream that sounds like a wounded lion. She staggers sideways, dropping her ax. Her hands grasp at thin air.

“Run!” Gadya yells at me, as if I need encouragement. We tear away through the trees. I hear the girl screaming and growling behind us as she tramples the foliage. I realize Gadya’s arrow must have missed her heart, but it has given us time to escape with our lives.

“Nice shot!” I finally gasp, once we stop running a few minutes later. Somehow we’ve managed to shake the injured drone.

“That was
way
too close,” Gadya replies. “And that girl was bigger than most of our hunters.” She slots another arrow into her bow. Brushes blue strands of hair out of her eyes. “We have to keep moving.”

“I don’t have a weapon anymore,” I point out.

Gadya reaches down and extracts the knife from her ankle sheath. She hands it to me silently.

I take it, and we press forward again. I can hear screams and battle cries, but they’re fainter than before. I realize our warriors must be forcing any stray drones away from our village. Moving cautiously, Gadya and I finally reach one of the narrow forest trails.

I hear a voice suddenly calling out, “Gadya! Alenna!”

It’s Markus. He stumbles out of the trees, about thirty paces in front of us. A bow dangles from his left hand. “Come with me. You gotta see this.”

“We’re busy right now!” Gadya yells back. “Or haven’t you noticed?”

“The attack’s over,” he says, lumbering in our direction. “They got what they came for.”

“How do you know?”

“They went after the prisoners,” Markus says, sounding stupefied. “They set fire to the kennels and killed most of ’em!”

My heart sinks in horror.

David.

Gadya looks equally shocked.

“Is David okay?” I ask numbly.

Markus just gestures at us to follow him.

We do so, dazed, stopping only when we reach the clearing that once housed the kennels. The air is thick with roiling clouds of dark, putrid smoke. The kennels have been obliterated. Transformed into smoldering ruins. Some of the trees in the clearing are burned too, their trunks blackened. I avert my eyes from the corpses inside the remains of the cells.

Gadya surveys the damage, shaking her head in disbelief. “Looks like they used powder from their fireworks as an accelerant.”

“I thought it was a rescue mission at first,” Markus explains. “I thought they were going to free the prisoners. I never thought they’d do this.”

I walk forward into the clearing. There’s no sign of David anywhere. I can barely believe it. One second he was alive and telling me about my parents. Now he’s probably dead—and right after I promised to help him. He never even deserved to be imprisoned here in the first place.

But as I peer out over the field of ash, bodies, and charred bamboo, I realize that beyond the smoke one kennel is still standing in pristine perfection, untouched by flames.

It’s the isolation kennel.
David’s kennel.