The Forsaken (22 page)

Then the random fireworks begin, even though it’s daytime, blasting off into the sky. Their pops are deafening, disorienting.

Even with the noise, I can still hear kids yelling at one another. Veidman is barking orders, fighting against the chaos. He stands there without any sort of shield, his spear raised.

Abruptly, a lull comes. The frequency of the arrows inexplicably diminishes. Then they cease altogether.

“Heathens!” a voice cries out into the silence.

We swivel our weapons in the direction of the voice. It’s coming from a drone hidden in the forest.

“You’re trespassing,” the voice continues. “The Monk controls this sector.”

I see Liam take aim with his arrow. He’s honing in on the sound of the voice. Sinxen and two of the other hunters follow his lead.

But Veidman holds out his arm, signaling them to stop. “We aren’t here to fight,” he calls out to the voice in the trees. “We’re just passing through.”

“With twenty warriors, all bearing weapons?”

So they’ve been watching us. Tracking us.
It’s worse than I thought.

“I’m telling the truth,” Veidman insists.

“It’s more likely you’re here to attack our outpost.”

“We’re not. We’re from a village in the blue sector, a village that your people have been perpetually raiding. But I’m asking you to let us pass in peace. We’re on an expedition into the gray zone, trying to find a way off the wheel. The knowledge we’re seeking could help all of us—even you and your Monk.”

There’s a long pause. For a second, I’m afraid arrows will rain down on us again. But then the voice speaks, and this time it’s cold and flat. “You’re a liar.”

“No. We think the way off the wheel is hidden on the northern coast.”

I’m surprised Veidman is being so honest. Then I realize it’s a solid strategy. He knows we need a valid reason to be here, or we’ll all be slaughtered like hoofers.

“There’s nothing inside the gray zone except death,” the voice intones. “Is that what you’re looking for, heathen?”

“We’re looking for answers, numbnuts!” Gadya yells out.

Veidman motions angrily for her to be silent. “Let me speak for the group.”

“Then make them understand,” she snaps back.

The voice speaks again. “It doesn’t matter if I believe you or not. Don’t you know who I am?”

Veidman signals to some of the hunters to fan out. “Tell me.”

“I’m a chief watcher for the Monk. I make sure that no heathens pass through this corner of the orange sector without permission.”

“Then give us permission,” Veidman says. He’s trying to reason with this drone, but I’m not sure that’s a good idea. It’s clear the watcher doesn’t trust us, and he definitely doesn’t like us.

“No chance,” the voice continues. It seems to be everywhere. All around us, coming from the trees. The hunters spin and turn, still trying to track its source. “The Monk depends on me to do my job. He is my lord and master.”

Gadya curses under her breath. “Let’s fill this brainwashed loser full of arrows.”

“I have an army of more than one hundred soldiers,” the watcher continues. “And right now we’ve got you completely surrounded.”

“You’re bluffing.”

“Am I?”

Lights immediately start flashing and twinkling in the trees around us. I realize they’re coming from the drones. They’re giving away their positions, but they’re also revealing that they decisively outnumber us, at least five to one. The watcher is telling the truth.

“All of my soldiers are armed,” he says. “All of them will fight to the death if I give the signal. They loathe heathens like you.”

“Then don’t give them the signal! Let us go in peace.”

“Tell me, Matthieu Veidman—and yes, I know your name, so don’t look so surprised—what would you do? If twenty of our soldiers turned up at your village with bows and arrows?”

“I’d talk to you. There’s enough death on the wheel. This place breeds it. We should stop killing one another and start working together.”

“Your people and mine have been at war for as long as anyone can remember.”

“That’s exactly why we should stop!” Veidman yells in frustration. “We’re at war because there’s nothing else to do on the wheel. Because the UNA, or whoever runs this place, wants us to be at war! Don’t you get it?”

The voice is silent for a moment. Finally it speaks. “Surrender, then. Put down your weapons and packs. Let my people take you to our beloved Monk. We can trust him to work out our differences.”

“Your Monk is insane,” Gadya snarls.

“Enough, Gadya!” Veidman barks.

But this time, the hunters agree with her. “We’ll never surrender!” one yells into the trees.

“Never!” Sinxen seconds.

“Not to scum like you!” Markus cries out angrily.

Jeers and catcalls come back at us from the trees, like deranged echoes. These drones sound ready to fight. Our hunters start screaming insults right back at them.

Only Liam remains quiet, moving his bow back and forth. I can tell that he’s locked on to the sound of the watcher’s voice now.

“You have no faith,” the voice lectures us over the escalating noise. “No belief. The Monk offers the one true path. Soon this entire island will be his.”

“I’ve heard that one before,” Gadya says through gritted teeth. “Your monk is a big fraud.”

The watcher isn’t listening. “If you refuse to surrender, then you’ll pay with your lives.”

“Don’t do this.” Veidman’s voice is hard now. “I’m begging you.” But he’s not begging at all. He has just finally realized that the time for diplomacy is over. I see him making covert hand signals at the hunters. Bows and spears get raised again, and I follow the lead of my companions.

“You shouldn’t have come here unless you expected to find trouble,” the watcher calls out, his voice rising into a hysterical whine. “You’re all simple heathens! Sent to kill us and hurt our Monk!”

Veidman shuts his eyes, his face twisted up. I know what’s coming next, and so does he. We all do. “Please—”

“Warriors, tear down these infidels!” the watcher suddenly screams at full volume.

There’s a split second of silence. Then comes the roar of the watcher’s men. It sounds more like a thousand drones than a hundred. They spill forward with their torches. Arrows fly at us in undulating waves. I dodge one, slip, and tumble onto the ground.

“I’m hit!” Rika screams as she collapses, pots and tins tumbling out of her pack with a crash. I see an arrow sticking through her pant leg. She sounds like she’s in shock.

I start crawling toward her over the mud. What Gadya taught me is useless. Even she can’t get a shot off because she’s forced to take shelter behind a tree.

This battle isn’t going to last very long, I realize. But it’s going to leave a pile of corpses behind.
Our corpses.

Just as I’m succumbing to despair, I suddenly hear a rumbling in the sky, followed by a high-pitched squealing noise. I look up. I’d almost forgotten that the drones aren’t the only things to fear on this island. That something even worse lurks above us in the clouds.

“Alenna, stay low!” I hear Liam yelling. He’s trying to run over to protect me, but the storm of arrows makes it impossible.

A second later, the first of the feelers shoots down from the heavens, plowing into the earth about ten feet away from me. I scream, scrabbling away as fast as I can.

The feeler’s tentacles snap, whir, and grind as they throw up clods of dirt and tree roots. Then they whip into the air and slam downward again. They’re like coils of living rope. Black metallic snakes in search of prey. Malignant. Inhuman.

“Alenna, look out!” Liam yells. I hear a deafening noise and roll sideways just in time. Another set of feelers strikes the ground right where I was crouching.

Our bows and arrows are obviously useless against these things. So are spears. But it also means the drones’ weapons are useless too. I can see drones running away as the feelers go after them as well. The watcher and his drones apparently didn’t anticipate this assault. Painted bodies flee in terror back into the trees.

I watch a drone get plucked as he scrambles away from us. He’s tossed up into the sky by the feelers, disappearing so fast that only his screams linger behind.

Gadya races toward me and helps me up. Rika staggers to her feet too, despite her injury.

“We brought them on us when we crossed into this sector!” Gadya yells.

“How do we fight them?” I scream back.

“We don’t! We run!”

“I can’t move,” Rika yelps, gesturing at her leg.

“You have to!” Gadya lunges forward, grabbing her and supporting her weight. “Alenna, cover us.”

I raise my bow and arrow. I can cover us against the few remaining drones, but not against the feelers. We lurch sideways as we hear the feelers making their terrible sounds. So far I’ve seen them take more of the Monk’s drones than our people, and I’m grateful for that. But right then I see one descend and snatch up one of our builders.

I spot Liam. He’s racing nimbly across the terrain toward us. At the same time, he’s also spinning and twirling—a blur of constant motion—to avoid feelers diving down from the sky.

I continue firing arrows. Some hit tentacles, but the tips just ricochet off the metal without impact. The feelers are relentless. One tears a cypress tree right out of the ground, roots and all, in its attempt to snatch Liam.

I crouch back down on the ground in the dirt. The feelers haven’t come after me in earnest yet. They seem more interested in the boys. But maybe that’s just because the hunters are the ones running around exposed. I watch helplessly as they take another of our hunters. There’s nothing we can do.

“Alenna—” I hear Veidman yell. I turn and see him on my left. He’s trying to organize everyone.

“What do I do?” I call back, terrified but slotting another arrow into my bow.

“Stay put!”

Veidman rushes past. Feelers slam down a few feet behind him, knocking up a spray of dirt. He stumbles but keeps plunging forward. The feelers pull back up into the sky, preparing for another assault. I wonder how many are hovering above us. At least six or seven. Maybe more. And each one seems to possess at least eight individual tentacles.

Sinxen helps Gadya drag Rika to the shelter of a large tree. I know the feelers can still reach her there, but they’re not paying her much attention. I wonder what draws the feelers. Maybe motion or body heat. I look back and see that Liam has paused to help pull another wounded hunter to safety in the forest.

That’s when it happens.

I catch a glimpse of something fast and metallic, as fast as an arrow, slamming into the earth in front of me like a meteor.
It’s a tentacle.
The ground shakes and I stagger back, getting pelted in the face with debris.

Then something hits the earth behind me. Another tentacle. I’m thrown forward and lose my balance between the two mechanical monstrosities.

I feel a vertiginous sensation of absolute liquid terror. My vision constricts like I’m looking through a tunnel.

I’m about to be taken!

I race sideways as fast as I can, letting myself be guided by instinct. I regain my footing and try to slip past the feelers, dodging them. But one of them lifts up and comes down hard to my left. I stumble and catch myself.

“Help!” I scream.

But no one hears me. I focus on a tree with a huge trunk and thick branches. It’s much larger than the other trees around me, and I race toward it, thinking I can take refuge there.

As I run, the feelers keep plunging and swooping. Attacking. At any moment I expect their mechanical fronds to curl around my body and fling me upward into the sky. I zigzag, refusing them an angle of attack. I’m getting close to the huge tree now, just ten paces away, closing the gap quickly.

Another tentacle comes down and slides under my foot as I’m stepping forward. It jerks me off balance, and this time I can’t recover. Before I can twist out of its grasp, it gets me around the ankle and throws me down.

“No!”
I scream as loudly as I can.

I claw at the earth, its damp scent thick in my nostrils. My hands can’t find purchase on anything. I hammer at the dirt and grass with my feet, trying to get the thing off me. The feeler starts pulling me up. Other tentacles slam down next to me and begin curling around my limbs, writhing and bucking.

I yank against them with all my strength, but I can’t make them budge. I hear myself screaming, sobbing like a crazy person. I kick and hit at the metal.

Then I feel my body rising into the air.

My hands grasp at tree branches, tearing off fistfuls of leaves.

This is the end.

I know that I’m about to die, but I don’t feel peaceful. My life doesn’t flash before my eyes. I just feel furious and terrified.

“Get the hell off me!” I scream at the tentacles as I continue to rise. I’m four feet off the ground already. In a second, I’m going to get yanked all the way up above the clouds.

Then I feel something crash into my lower torso, slamming me sideways into a tree trunk. I hit the tree so hard I almost lose consciousness. One of the tentacles around my waist loosens and uncurls. Something crashes into me again, scraping the skin off my left arm.

Then the tentacles are gone, like they’re retracting into the sky as the feeler departs.

And I’m falling . . .

I plunge through branches and leaves, trying to get my hands around my head to protect myself.

An instant later, I slam into the underbrush, and the breath explodes from my lungs. I choke for air, gasping. Everything goes numb from the impact. I can’t feel my arms or legs.

I lie there, trying to figure out what happened. I wasn’t taken; I’ve been let go. But why? I try to move. Slowly the feeling starts coming back. I struggle to sit up, terrified the feelers are going to seek me out again.

Then I realize that the feeler that grabbed me is still there. It’s just preoccupied because someone else is doing battle with it.

Liam.

He’s the one who rescued me. He must have thrown himself at it, not caring about his own life.