The Forsaken (29 page)

“Let’s go as a group,” Sinxen says. “Just make a run at the barrier when the fireworks stop and the holes are big enough. Claw our way through together.”

We all agree to try it.

Soon the barrier is filled with burning holes again. It looks like melting Swiss cheese. The drones stare at us expectantly. We clutch one another’s hands. Then we head straight toward the bizarre obstacle standing between us and the gray zone.

I aim for one of the largest holes, even though it’s already closing rapidly. My body slams into the barrier, and I push at the viscous material, burrowing my way inside. It’s warm and pliant, like congealed custard mixed with glue. It pushes on my eyelids, making patterns dance and arc in the blackness. Then I feel it pushing into my ears, blocking out all sounds except the beating of my heart.

I feel hot, and I can’t move.

For a second, I can’t even feel my body anymore, and I start to panic.

Something’s gone wrong!

I begin flailing and struggling, but my limbs are completely immobilized. I must have misjudged the holes, and the wall is surging up around me. Closing. I see nothing, feel nothing, hear nothing. I’m going to be trapped inside here forever.

I start screaming.

And then I feel an icy blast race across the fingertips of my left hand.

Fresh air.

I strain forward, like I’m running in syrup. I feel more cold air. A breeze never felt this good. I get my other hand free, and then tumble out of the barrier, sinking from the wall onto the forest floor, reborn in a puddle of jellied liquid into the gray zone.

I open my eyes and gasp for air, shivering. Liam was right. It’s freezing in here, and as silent as a tomb. No birds, no insects, no animals. Gadya is next to me, coughing and swearing.

I glance around, afraid I’ll see that one of our group got stuck inside the barrier. But no, all of us are here. The wall is rapidly closing up, with the Monk’s drones on the other side. We made it just in time. I cough up bits of stray jelly, gagging until my throat and chest are free and loose again.

But then something unexpected happens. One of the masked drones on the other side of the barrier races forward awkwardly with a muffled yell. It’s like he’s come out of nowhere—he’s not one of the drones who was lighting fireworks. I’m not sure what’s going on, and I instantly get my guard up.

The screaming drone on the other side flings himself at the barrier, right at one of the last remaining holes. His momentum carries him forward, and he plunges into the opening, grasping and kicking against the translucent material with his hands and feet. Other drones rush toward him. Not to aid him, but to try to pull him back out. They’re not fast enough, and he kicks their hands away.

He scrabbles forward through the hole, like he’s battling jelly. I’m not sure if he’s going to make it or if he’s going to get stuck. The drones on the other side are all yelling and running around, like this wasn’t part of the plan. Maybe he’s just a drone who got overcome with emotion and passion to be with his Monk.

Even the Monk’s eyes look startled.

Gadya stands up fast. I do the same.

This stray drone, who seems to be acting all on his own, finally makes it through the barrier. He sprawls onto the forest floor, gagging.

I look behind him at the barrier. The area that we all broke through has almost repaired itself completely. There is no trace that anything passed through it, other than some debris from the fireworks floating inside, and a few weapons that got stranded by those of us who tried to bring them.

I look at the final person who has joined our group. Even before his shaking hands rip off his mask, I suddenly have a feeling that I know who it is.

David.

“What are you doing here?” Gadya screams when she sees his face, sounding furious. “We don’t need a backstabbing spy on our journey! I was hoping you were dead.” She turns to the Monk. “You said you weren’t bringing anyone else! Why is
he
here?”

“Ask him,” the Monk replies, still struggling to recover from the journey through the barrier. “I didn’t intend for him to come.”

Gadya, Markus, and Sinxen start moving ominously toward David as he begins getting to his feet. Rika just looks shocked, like me. Markus’s hands are balling into fists.

David holds up a hand, coughing. “Wait— I know what you think about me. You have every right.”

“Damn straight we do,” Markus says. “You’re the reason all those prisoners got burned! You’re a high-level drone. A spy full of lies.”

Gadya looms over David. “You’re here to help the Monk.”

“No—wait! Alenna, make them understand!”

Gadya spins toward me, eyes narrowing. “What does Alenna have to do with this?”

“I talked to her—” David stutters. “After I got out of the kennels—”

“He burst out of the forest the night before we left,” I interrupt, because now everyone is eyeing me suspiciously. “He babbled some crazy stuff about setting up his own colony somewhere, not part of either group. He wanted me to join him. I didn’t tell anyone because I knew I’d probably get interrogated.” Everyone keeps staring at me. “That’s the truth! I don’t know any more than that.”

Markus looks at David hard. “So why are you here now?”

“Because I want to come with you guys. I know where you’re headed. Into the gray zone to find the aircrafts. I want to get off Island Alpha, and I’m sure you can use an extra body to help.” His dark eyes fix onto mine. “I’m not a spy. I’m just trying to unravel the mysteries and save myself.”

“You’re playing both sides, David,” Gadya accuses. “I haven’t figured out your angle yet, but I will. And I already know I’m not gonna like what I find.”

“Let’s just make a new hole in the barrier and send him back,” Sinxen proposes.

“Yeah, dead or alive,” Markus adds.

The Monk waves his hand in annoyance at our debate. “It doesn’t matter. If he wishes to come, then so be it.”

Gadya speaks directly to the Monk. “Of course you want him with you. He’s one of your kind. But you realize we outnumber you now? Even with David tagging along?”

“Yes.”

“You aren’t afraid we’ll kill all three of you? Hurt you?”

“You can’t hurt me as much as the wheel already has.” The Monk raises a ragged arm as if to prove his point. “I could have brought fifty drones with me. A hundred. A thousand.” He pauses. “I didn’t want to. Inevitably, they would go wild and make noise. I control their minds. Not their bodies. Sometimes a body is stronger than a mind.” He makes a sound close to a sigh. “Besides, the truth is, I have tired of them. They worship me only because they have nothing better to do. They are weak-minded. . . . Unstable.” He raises a shaky hand again. “They are a burden. I’ve been waiting for a group like you. Kids who can think for themselves.”

“So you’re trusting us because we’re better, smarter fighters? Is that what you’re saying?” Gadya asks. “And because we know the way to where you want to go? You don’t even believe in your own cult anymore?”

I know that if Gadya had a weapon on her, she might use it. Her voice is low and cold. If she ever blamed me for my role in Liam’s death, she must blame the Monk a million times more. He can’t know this, yet he senses her raw hatred.

“No, I still believe in the power of my cult. Their faith kept me alive all these long years. But their devotion sickens and wearies me. I lost my freedom to their numbers. Their love became my shackles, and I became a prisoner of their worship.” He looks around. “Now, for the first time, I feel free again.” He coughs. “Remember, I am not a villain. I shared my knowledge about the barrier with you. I didn’t have to.”

“Only because you needed our help,” I point out.

“Friendship is always a case of mutual exploitation.” His drone lovingly brushes back a tuft of the Monk’s hair, which is sticking out behind his mask. It’s like the drone didn’t even hear what the crazy Monk said about being sick of his own followers.

David takes that moment to rip off his robe, throw it onto the ground, and stamp on it. Underneath he’s wearing normal street clothes and a winter jacket. He also has a homemade splint around his ankle to support his foot. “Look! See! I’m not a drone. I’m one of you.”

“You’ll never be one of us,” Gadya snaps at him. “And whether you’re a drone or not, out here you’re just a liability. You’re weak. You’re not prepared for this journey.”

Markus jabs a finger at David. “I know you’re a spy. I don’t trust you, and I never will. Maybe I can thrash out of you what Veidman’s truth serum couldn’t.” He moves forward.

“Markus, no more violence,” I say. “Better David turned up than a feeler. I don’t know if he’s a spy or not anymore, but he’s here now, and we can’t send him back. We might as well take him along.”

“Guys, I’m freezing,” Rika interrupts in a small voice. “Can we stop arguing?”

“Good idea,” the Monk rasps.

“David, if you come with us, you’re walking in front,” Markus says. “In case there are any booby traps.”

“Yeah, consider yourself our prisoner,” Gadya adds.

“Call me whatever you want,” David mutters.

We rummage through our packs and put on jackets, gloves, scarves, and hats. We’re trying to stay warm in the painfully cold weather. There must be a forty-degree difference on either side of the barrier. We’ve gone from eighty-odd degrees to just above freezing.

Of course, I don’t see any sign of the rocks that David mentioned earlier. He said they’d be inside the barrier where the drones always cross over. Seemingly right where we are now. But there’s nothing here.

I try to quell my rising panic. I know I haven’t really looked yet. I obviously don’t want to mention the rocks out loud. Not only will it reveal that I talked to David more than the others can imagine, but it also seems worth keeping secret. Right now I don’t want to draw any extra attention to myself.

I gaze around at the trees, searching for any large rocks. The trees look odd—slightly crystalline, like they’re frozen, or fossilized. I touch a branch above me, and it feels cold and brittle. Everything here seems dead, even when it’s still alive.

Back on the other side of the barrier, I can see the sun and the emerald colors of the vivid landscape we left behind. I never thought I’d feel nostalgic for the horrors of the orange sector. But at least I knew what to expect there. I have no clue what awaits us in the gray zone.

I hear Gadya, Markus, and Sinxen still arguing with David.

“I need to pee,” I say suddenly, startling everyone. The truth is, I need a chance to be alone to search for the rocks, but I can’t let them know that. “I’ll be right back.”

“Alenna?” David calls out, probably suspecting what I’m up to. “I’ll come with you!” I’m not sure whether he actually wants to help or if he’s just afraid to be left alone with the others. I ignore him and keep walking, pretending I didn’t hear. I know the others won’t hurt him, at least for now.

I plunge off to my right, into the forest, before anyone can stop me. I don’t know exactly what I’m looking for. I’m afraid the rocks with “Shawcross” on them are going to turn out to be gravestones, although at least then I’d have some closure. But I’m hoping for more. I’m hoping to find a secret message.

I know I don’t have long until my companions get worried, or suspicious, and come after me. I tromp through the underbrush, staring around.
Maybe this is the wrong place entirely.

Then I see an object, partially hidden by dead branches, rising up from the forest floor. It looks like a large rock, and my hopes soar. I rush toward it, excited and elated to have found so quickly what I was seeking.

But when I reach it, my heart sinks. It’s not a rock at all. It’s just the splintered stump of a large fallen tree, half buried in the underbrush, speckled with gray lichens.

I look around. I see more mysterious shapes in the brush, but most of them look like decaying tree trunks or random debris. I start to realize that finding one of these rocks might be much harder than I thought. I expected them to be bigger. More obvious. And David said there were a lot of them.

I start moving again, going deeper, searching desperately for a sign.

I find nothing.

Finally, I just stop walking. I rub my arms. Even with my jacket and gloves, I’m freezing. I don’t want to get lost out here in the cold. I realize I’ll have to return to the others and try to keep searching for the rocks later on. But I know that the farther we move away from the place where we crossed the barrier, the less likely it is that I’ll find them—unless I can get more information out of David.

I turn and head back toward my companions, retracing my route.

It’s only then that I spot something I missed, standing shrouded in the shadows of a cluster of nearby trees.

It’s a granite slab, like a monolith—nearly twice my height and about six feet wide. I stumble toward it rapidly.

But when I get there, I don’t see anything carved on its surface, let alone my last name. The surface is mostly overgrown with icy vines and hanging moss. I shove the vines away with my gloved hand, trying to see if anything is hidden underneath. I find nothing but jagged granite.

Time is running out, and I don’t see any other rocks around anywhere.

Wait—maybe the message is on the other side.

The underbrush is thicker there, but I wade through it, trying to get around the rock, just in case. My breath is as visible as smoke in the frigid air.

As I turn the corner, at first I don’t see anything. But then as I quickly pick my way around it, I see that a flat area has indeed been chiseled onto the surface of the rock.

My heart starts pounding as I swiftly move toward it.

I see letters.

Then the letters coalesce into words.

I stand there in the underbrush, swaying slightly in disbelief.

“Shawcross Rock,”
I murmur in shock, reading the letters chiseled into the granite surface.

David was telling the truth.

Underneath are two names, “Thomas & Leah Shawcross.”

The names of my parents.