The Forsaken (Forsaken - Trilogy)

by Lisa M. Stasse

  Sinxen brushes dirt off his elbows. “Well, we don’t. So stay cool and don’t piss anyone off.”

  Soon a crowd of thirty or more drones comes to get us, some carrying mysterious crates and others carrying weapons. They’re dirty and grubby, stinking of alcohol. Some wear metal masks, presumably to scare us. “This way, heathens,” a haggard drone sneers. Black circles ring his sunken eyes.

  The drones surround us, weapons in their hands, although I don’t sense any immediate danger. And if I’m wrong, there are still weapons in our hands too, left over from the night before.

  We’re guided down a mud path toward the barrier. I can tell it’s well-traveled because of all the footprints. I wonder whether this is the place that David was talking about. The place where the drones cross over into the gray zone. If it is, then at least one good thing came from getting captured by the Monk, because now I’m closer to where I need to be.

  When we reach the barrier, it looks exactly like it did before, like a wall of clear jelly. The drones stop moving, and I see that we’re not the first to arrive. The Monk and his bearers are already there, resting under a tree. The bearers hoist the Monk up and move toward us as soon as they see us.

  “Greetings, friends,” the Monk says. There’s no mistaking his mocking tone. He knows we’re not his friends, and never will be.

  Gadya pulls back her hair. “Enough games. Tell us how to get through this damn wall.”

  The Monk pauses and gazes at us, licking the wooden lips of his mask. “I thought you would have already figured it out by now.”

  “Enlighten us,” Markus snaps.

  The Monk blinks. “This wall is made of synthetic filaments. The substance was developed by the UNA military years ago, as a potential weapon of mass destruction.” He pauses. “Yet they found it was most effective at containing harmful contaminants, like petroleum spills. And also, at containing people. The UNA built this barrier to keep everyone out of the gray zone.”

  “How could you even know this stuff?” Sinxen asks.

  “Who cares!” Gadya yells. “We just need to get through it.”

  The Monk raises one thin arm and points at the wall. His men move him forward. “Watch and learn.”

  Some of his drones bend down, opening up the crates they’ve been carrying. I see now that the crates are loaded with fireworks. Massive ones, like miniature rockets on rusty spring-loaded launchers. The drones start taking them out and setting them up.

  I have no clue where so many fireworks could come from. As far as I know, the UNA doesn’t drop any provisions onto the wheel, except perhaps for their chemicals. The Monk’s people must have found a gigantic stash of fireworks, perhaps left over from the days before the wheel was a prison island.

  “Are you serious? Fireworks?” Rika mutters.

  “They contain barium and antimony sulfide. . . . Those heavy metals, plus the heat generated by their powder, break down the synthetic filaments.”

  So this is why the Monk’s people are so obsessed with fireworks, I think. They’ve been using them to get through the barrier and into the gray zone. And if they’re so casual about using them in their attacks on us as well, they must have a nearly inexhaustible supply.

  The fireworks explain why there were always so many drones inside the gray zone, just like Liam said. For all I know, maybe they destroyed the tunnel themselves, knowing that we didn’t have another way to get in.

  “The fireworks stick inside the barrier and begin to burn,” the Monk continues. “They melt the fibers, and the wall becomes fluid. Sticky. Then it’s possible to get through—at least temporarily.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask.

  “Once holes appear, the barrier tries to close them, like skin growing over an open wound. You must enter the barrier quickly and fight your way to the other side, before the holes seal themselves and the barrier envelops you. This place is where we commonly pass through, so the barrier is weakest here. Easiest to penetrate.”

  So I am in the right place to find the rocks.

  “Show us what you mean,” Gadya says to the Monk.

  He raises a hand again. His drones start lifting the fireworks and begin extracting matches, lighting wicks. I jam my fingers into my ears.

  “Begin!” the Monk rasps to his army of drones. “Open the Blessed Wall and show the heathens the beauty within!”

  Drones run past us in a dizzying blur up to the barrier. They jam and thrust lit fireworks into the jelly. Then they leave them there and run back to get more.

  Meanwhile, other drones use launchers, slings, and even bows to fire more lit fireworks directly into the wall. A few bounce off, but most penetrate and hang inside the gelatinous substance. I can see tiny air bubbles appear around their burning wicks, which remain lit even inside the barrier.

  All of us are watching in expectation, and we’re not disappointed by what happens next.

  The first firework inside the wall detonates almost soundlessly. There’s an odd, uncanny beauty to the sight. It looks like an exotic red flower unfurling its colored petals in slow motion. Wormlike sparks of light sluggishly explode outward, trapped inside the barrier.

  Another firework goes off. Then another. The wall starts rippling. Air bubbles are growing larger. A few burning, buzzing embers reach the surface, where they fizzle and die out in puffs of smoke. Holes are opening up everywhere.

  “The barrier is like an ocean. A vertical one with a very slow current,” the Monk calls out in his raspy voice. “Like a pane of glass. Once the holes are large enough, run toward them. Pry them open. Force your way through.”

  I stare into the barrier, which is now filled with glittering multicolored lights and rising air bubbles. Beyond is the monochromatic forest. I wonder what it will feel like to enter that icy world. I miss Liam.

  “It’s almost time,” the Monk says. I look back at him. One of his men clasps him around the chest while another gets his legs. They carry him off the platform. His head lolls back and his limbs hang weakly. He looks so vulnerable, but holds so much power. “I will lead the way. Don’t bring your weapons. You will not need them in the gray zone, and they will hinder your passage through the barrier. . . . I’m not bringing my devotees, except one to carry me.”

  I wonder what would happen if one of us lunged forward right now and struck the Monk down. Would killing him loosen his hold on his followers? Maybe we’d just create a martyr for them to worship even more.

  Gadya is at my ear, voicing the thought I just had. “We could take him! Kill the bastard. Rip that mask right off him.”

  “I know,” I whisper back. But neither of us move. The risk is too great.

  The Monk’s men reach the wall and press him against the pulsing membrane of the barrier. They begin moving him into the holes and air pockets that the fireworks have opened up. The Monk’s mask is forced tightly against his face, but his drones keep pushing. It’s a surreal sight—like watching someone give birth in reverse.

  “What happens if he doesn’t make it?” I whisper to Gadya.

  “Look. He’s almost out.”

  Indeed, I watch as the Monk reaches the other side of the weakened barrier. His outstretched fingers emerge into air. Followed by his hand, and then his forearm.

  One of his drones pushes forward violently, accompanying him. The drone explodes out the other side of the barrier like he’s bursting free from an avalanche, just in time to catch the Monk as he tumbles out. He takes hold of his body and places him gently on the ground.

  The Monk weakly waves a hand to show his followers that he’s okay. Then his fingers curl into a claw, beckoning us. Other drones are busy pushing our backpacks through the holes, so we’ll have them on the other side.

  The barrier is trying to repair itself, the holes quickly closing as the material cools and starts pooling together like syrup. The drones begin assaulting it with fireworks and flares again, trying to open up new passageways.

  “I don’t know if I can do t
his,” Rika says, sounding shell-shocked.

  “You have to,” I say. My eyes are fixed on the Monk and the gray zone beyond. His drone is putting a thick coat around him, and getting gloves on his hands.

  “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 beca
use 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.