The Forsaken

hide.
    We’re almost there, having successfully navigated the pipes, when I hear a rattling noise behind me, followed by the ear-piercing shriek of a descending feeler. At the same time, I hear Gadya yell.
    But when I turn, I see that it’s Rika who’s in trouble.
    The feeler has got her, and it’s already pulling her upward, its metal limbs intertwined with hers. The feeler’s spotlight has turned on. Harsh light reflects off the icy pipes and ground, blinding us as its noise deafens us.
    “Help!” Rika cries, pulling against the tentacles encircling her waist and chest.
    I turn back and flail at her, beating on the tentacles, trying to keep the monstrous things from taking her. But truthfully, I don’t have any more strength left than Rika does. Everything is happening faster and faster. The tentacles tighten around Rika’s arms and legs, preparing to take her away for good.
    “No!” I rail at the feeler. “It’s not fair! Let her go!”
    My anger is infectious. “You son of a bitch!” Rika yells at the feelers. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard her curse. “You can’t have me! Not now! Not ever!”
    Gadya joins me in attacking the feeler with our frozen hands. Miniature gears grind inside the tentacles. For a moment, I think the feeler is going to give up because we’re dragging it down a little. Maybe the three of us can outweigh it after all. Get it to the ground and destroy it, like we did to the one on the lake.
    But then a look passes across Rika’s eyes, and I know the tentacles have tightened too far, squeezing her ribs, constricting her chest. Her mouth opens. She looks down at us as the feeler starts rising. “Gadya. Alenna . . .”
    The noise of the rotor increases, like it has received a massive surge of energy. I grip Rika’s foot, trying to keep her from vanishing into the sky. Gadya grabs her other leg.
    “Don’t give up!” Gadya yells. “Fight the damn thing!”
    But this time there will be no victory for us.
    The tentacles coil like elastic bands. And then suddenly, Rika’s foot is ripped right out of my hands. The force is unbelievable. I’m thrown back onto the ground, stunned, holding her empty boot.
    I look up just in time to see the feeler hurl Rika upward, toward the clouds. It begins zooming away, with Rika’s limp body dangling beneath it.
    Gadya falls back. Her hands are bleeding again, more flesh ripped from her fingers. My hands are stinging, so I look down at them. They’re bleeding through the gloves too. Lacerations mark my palms like stigmata.
    Gadya and I stare at each other.
    Rika is gone.
    And Markus, David, and James are trapped behind the big pipe, probably about to be taken.
    There are only two of us left.
    I want to cry. I want to shut my eyes and make this whole terrible place disappear. But there’s no time for self-pity. We’re easy targets, and there are other feelers on the loose.
    “The hatch!” I call out, breaking the spell. Gadya and I start moving toward it. Gadya can barely walk, cursing as she limps and hobbles her way forward. I put my arm around her shoulders, trying to support her.
    I’m certain the other feelers are going to chase us, but when I look over my shoulder, I see they’re still battling David, Markus, and James. I turn back around and keep moving with Gadya.
    Seconds later, I hear the awful sound of someone being taken.
    And then someone else.
    I turn again, just in time to see Markus being pulled up into the sky. Then I catch a glimpse of another feeler heaving James into the heavens, his black robes flapping, his mouth open in a frightened, disbelieving O.
    There is nothing we can do for them. Gadya and I keep heading toward the hatch.
    Another feeler has descended behind us. I hear David yelling as he tries to fight it off alone. I can’t stand feeling so powerless anymore.
    “David!” I scream, looking back one last time. I see the feeler pulling his struggling body up into the sky. He has sacrificed everything so that Gadya and I have a chance to survive. I turn back around. I can’t watch anymore—the pain is too great.
    Gadya and I reach the hatch within seconds. Up close I see that it’s huge and round, nearly the width and height of a single-car garage door. The words “MAINTENANCE HATCH No. 12” are stenciled on it in red paint.
    I throw out my hands, grabbing the large hydraulic wheel that serves as its handle. I desperately hope we’ll find refuge from the feelers in this building, even