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.
And its door is hanging wide open.
Markus sees me looking. “Yeah, only one of ’em got away.” He walks forward and kicks at some smoldering ashes glumly. “Bet you can guess who.”
Gadya looks over at me. I feel like she’s eyeing me with suspicion.
“What happened?” I ask Markus, trying to make sense of the situation. Mostly I just feel relief that David didn’t die in the fire.
“A bunch of drones burst out of the trees. Too many for me to fight them, so I ran and hid in a spider hole. When I came back, David was gone and the other prisoners were dead or dying. David obviously fled with the drones who rescued him.”
“Or else they kidnapped him,” I point out. “You don’t know that he went willingly.”
“I bet David was a high-level drone, just like Veidman and Meira thought all along,” Gadya mutters.
We look at each other, desolate in the smoky haze. I don’t believe her.
“Listen, Veidman was already here, and he told me not to say anything,” Markus continues softly, “but there’s more.” He scans the ruined kennels. “Off the record, another one of the drones is still alive. Barely. He’s probably the only one who actually saw what happened. But he’s not talking.”
“Where is he?” Gadya asks.
Markus points at a pile of palm fronds on the ground near the edge of the clearing. “I dragged him over there. Put the palms on him to hide him, like Veidman told me to. He’s not gonna live much longer.”
Markus is still talking, but I’m rushing in the direction of the palm leaves. As I grow closer, I see the shape of a body under them.
“Don’t!” Markus hisses after me. “Veidman’ll be back any second! He went to get Meira. He doesn’t want anyone to know there’s a survivor. He wants to question him in secret.”
I ignore Markus, crouching down and tearing the palm fronds off the drone’s body. I expose a charred arm. Then part of his chest. Finally, a face.
Markus wasn’t lying. This drone is badly burned, his skin charred and swollen with blisters. His eyes are open, staring, and I realize his eyelids have been burned away. At first I think he’s dead for sure, but then his eyeballs swivel in my direction.
“I’m dying,” he whispers. His voice has become a croaky old man’s rasp of pain.
“You’re gonna be okay,” I lie. I’ve never counseled a dying person before. It’s hard to be close to this much agony. I can hear Gadya heading over to us. The last thing I want to do is interrogate this boy in his final moments, but I need answers, or my life and the lives of everyone else in the village might
be in jeopardy too.
“What happened to David Aberley?” I ask. “The boy in the isolation cell. Is he okay? Did he get taken? Or did he go with the drones willingly? Please. I’m begging you.”
For a moment, I think the drone has passed away. But then I feel his broken breath on my cheek. “You’re Alenna Shawcross.”
I recoil. “How do you know my name?”
“I heard . . . David say it.” He coughs. I just stare at him. “There are messages for you . . . on the rocks beyond the barrier. . . . Messages from your parents.”
Right then Gadya reaches me. “Don’t get too close to him!”
I turn around. Markus is directly behind Gadya. And twenty feet behind him, I see Veidman and Meira moving up the trail.
I turn back to the drone. He opens his blackened lips again like he’s going to speak. Instead of words, a choking gasp forces its way out. A death rattle.
“No!” I cry. “Please!” I want to force the life back into him. But it’s too late. He’s gone.
“Well, I guess that’s for the best,” Markus finally murmurs, looking down at the drone’s ruined body.
“What did he say to you?” Gadya asks me, sounding suspicious. “I heard you asking him about David.”
“He was just—” I find myself speechless, biting back tears. Am I crying for this anonymous drone? Or am I crying for myself? I don’t even know. I feel scared. Selfish. “He wasn’t making any sense,” I finally say. “Just nonsense stuff about the Monk.”
I stand up, ignoring Gadya’s gaze.
“Is that drone still alive?” Veidman calls out as he reaches us.
Markus shakes his head.
Veidman curses and shoots Markus a stern look. “I told you not to say anything. We’ll talk about this later.”
Markus nods. We all stand around and look down at the body, still partially covered with palms. I don’t know why Veidman wanted to keep this drone’s survival a secret.
“We should bury him,” I say at last.
“No,” Meira replies quickly. “He’s not one of us. He’s an interloper. He can’t be buried in this sector.”
“So you’re just going to leave him out here?” I ask.
“I’ll start a fire,” Markus says tiredly. “Finish the job.”
Meira turns to me. “Only members of this village get buried here. It’s an honor that drones don’t deserve.” Her eyes have gone cold and glassy, like a doll’s eyes.
More villagers stumble out of the trees. The battle is over. It’s clear to me the drones just came to burn down the kennels. And either free or recapture David Aberley.
I’m overwhelmed with questions. What if the Monk somehow knew that David would tell me, or other villagers, secret things? I don’t want to tell anyone what the dying prisoner said to me, in case they start suspecting that I’m involved with the Monk somehow.
“We’ll convene at the fire pit tonight,” Veidman calls out sharply, turning on his heel to leave. “Spread the word.”
Meira follows without a backward glance.
Gadya sighs. “Now you know why I have to leave the village and go into the gray zone. We can’t live like this much longer. Things are getting too crazy. The drones aren’t just killing us—they’re killing each other.” She looks me hard in the eyes. “And for the record, I think David tricked you. I think he’s been working for the Monk all along. He’s probably been on the wheel for months.”
I just can’t accept that. “He’s done nothing but try to help us and be part of this village.”
“Yeah, probably so he could get invited inside and spy on us! You’re too trusting, Alenna.”
I don’t want to argue, so I stop talking. I look down at the drone’s corpse a final time. Despite his burns, he seems oddly peaceful. He’s not in pain anymore.
I pull my hair back from my face. Gadya shoulders her bow and arrow. I sense the tension between us. Other kids are heading our way, but I don’t feel too sociable.
“I need some water,” I tell Gadya.
“Go get some, then,” she retorts.
I walk away from the drone’s body, giving both Gadya and the ruined kennels a wide berth. So many kids died here, burned alive while Gadya and I battled the giant girl. Life on the wheel is beyond cheap, I realize. It’s meaningless.
I’m reminded of Sisyphus again. The trick is to find meaning in such pointless, repetitive suffering. Maybe that’s impossible.
Now that David is gone, I know that the only way to find answers about my parents is to leave this village. The dying drone said that my mom and dad left messages for me. And David even knew my parents’ names and that they were dissidents. No matter what, I need to try to find those messages—assuming they actually exist and I’m not just a pawn in the war between the villagers and the drones. I must become part of Operation Tiger Strike and plunge into the gray zone looking for answers, with Liam, Gadya, and all the other hunters at my side.
THE DECISION
HOURS LATER, THE ENTIRE camp—except for some perimeter guards and the Ones Who Suffer—is gathered around the fire pit. Low flames crackle as damp branches pop in the fire. Some kids hold out sticks, roasting chunks of hoofer meat. Others just bask in the warmth. It’s nearing twilight now, and the air is getting cooler.
Torches are set up around the edge of the clearing, casting flickering yellow shadows. I wrap an old shawl from the clothes pile around me, curling myself into its cocoon.
Liam is sitting with the other hunters. They’re gathered in a group on one side of the fire pit. I’ve noticed they close ranks after an attack. I wonder if Liam killed any drones today. Probably.
Veidman gets up on his tree stump. As always, Meira is nearby, his second pair of eyes and ears.
“You all know why we’re here,” Veidman says as everyone falls silent. “We’ve been facing this decision for a long while. But now it’s time to stop thinking and take action.” Some voices rise up, but he keeps talking. “Today the Monk sent his drones to attack us in daylight, for the first time. He killed the prisoners—his own people—and rescued one of them. The drone who called himself David Aberley.” He pauses. “I have no doubt David was sent here as a spy, and that when we suspected and imprisoned him, the drones came here to set him free. He was probably too valuable to lose.” The crowd rumbles. “I’ve heard that other villages are crumbling one by one, overcome by chaos and destroyed from within by interlopers. It doesn’t matter how many drones we scare off or kill. More will arrive tomorrow. And even more the day after that.” He stares around at the assembled throng.
“Tell ’em!” one of the hunters yells.
“We can’t wait any longer,” Veidman continues. “Meira and I have discussed it. We’ve been consulting with the leaders of the other surviving villages. They’re staying put for now, but we’re going to send out our exploration party as soon as possible.”
The hubbub of noise grows louder in response.
“Please.” He holds up his hands. “Listen.” I wonder how much older Veidman really is than the rest of us. In the soft firelight, he looks young. Vulnerable. I never thought of him like that before.
“The drones are filthy beasts!” a hunter yells. “Let’s go into the gray zone and kill as many as we can!” His words get cheered.
Veidman raises his hands again. The crowd grows quiet. “Like I said, the attacks are going to get worse. So we’re forming our expedition party now. Many of the hunters will be going, but we need volunteers to support them too. Kids who aren’t afraid to risk their lives. The more people we send into the gray zone, the greater the chance of success.”
Meira steps forward. She takes Veidman’s hand, her pale fingers clasping his, the hypnotic firelight playing over her delicate features.
“Veidman is going to lead the expedition. I will stay here and keep things running while he’s away.”
“You’re risking all our lives by leaving!” a boy yells at Veidman—a hut builder, not one of the hunters.
“We risk our lives every day on the wheel,” Meira retorts. “Now we’ll be taking control of our destinies. Owning the risk.”
Rika stands up. “How do we know this isn’t part of the Monk’s plan? Have you thought of that? What if he’s intensifying his attacks so we do something stupid, like split up the village? Maybe he’s planning to attack us right after our best hunters leave, or to ambush the hunters on their way to the gray zone.”
“It’s been decided already,” Veidman declares, heading off any debate before it becomes a mutiny. “We’ve run this village and kept all of you alive for the past three years. So we make the decisions. Operation Tiger Strike is a go. The exploration party will be leaving in nine days, in search of the aircrafts. I promise you, this will be the first step toward gaining our freedom.”
“But we’re free right here!” a girl yells.
“Free and alive!” another voice seconds.
Veidman turns, squinting to see in the firelight. “Freedom means more than just struggling to survive. Freedom is our right. Our destiny. We have to take this chance while we still can. Before they send more drones like David Aberley. Before they kill more of us.”
Voices rise up again, expressing agreement and dissent in equal numbers. Veidman and Meira quickly make their exit from the fire pit, disappearing into darkness as they step away from the flames. It’s like they’ve just dissolved into the cool night air.
Had this exact same meeting taken place a day earlier, I never would have considered joining the expedition into the gray zone. But after what David and the other prisoner said, I can no longer imagine staying.
“Whadda you make of this mess?” Gadya asks me. The camp is still buzzing with conversation and arguments.
“Honestly? I think it sucks.” My mind is still on David. Could I really have been so wrong about him? My gut tells me that he wasn’t lying about my parents. But I don’t know if I can trust my gut. It also told me that I’d never fail the GPPT. Still, it’s impossible for me to believe that David tricked me.
“Staying won’t be so bad,” Gadya replies. “Maybe now that they’ve killed the prisoners, the drones won’t attack for—”
The Forsaken (Forsaken - Trilogy) Page 12
