The Forsaken

that we would, after watching them casually slaughter our friends and companions.
    I walk with my head down, trying to look docile and complacent. But my mind is racing as I start recovering from the shock of the ambush. I’m planning how I can escape from these drones—because nothing is going to stop me from accomplishing my mission and learning the fate of my parents.

FAITHLESS
    WE STUMBLE INTO THE Monk’s makeshift camp twenty minutes later. I’m scared, tired, and thirsty. The drones have berated us the entire way. I’ve noticed that there aren’t any female warriors in this group. Maybe the Monk doesn’t believe that girls can make effective hunters, unless they’re nearly mutants like the big girl who attacked me and Gadya.
    The orange sun is low in the sky when we arrive at the camp. I instantly see how different it is from our village. Multiple ragged fire pits burn everywhere. Garbage is strewn all over the ground—old food, plastic chemical wrappers, broken furniture, and unidentifiable charred remnants. It looks worse than the New Providence city dump.
    Here at the camp, I finally see the girls. Most of them are half naked, tending to boys, and a lot of them look drunk. Their skin is grimy with ingrained dirt, like they’ve forgotten how to bathe. Some dance together by the fires, bruised and cackling. A few have shaved heads. I see girls in the shadows, bent over boys, seductively writhing against them. They arch their necks and backs as filthy male hands grope them.
    So much for the Monk being holy. Or maybe this is a different kind of holiness—the holiness of despair, filth, and depravity. I don’t know why anyone would follow the Monk. But I guess he offers freedom from rules and civilization. Freedom from the pressures of being human.
    The drones sneer at us openly. Most of their teeth are filed down into points, girls and boys alike. Many look like they have the Suffering themselves, but they’re not separated from the others. The camp is just a festering pit of disease, like some plague-riddled village from the Middle Ages that we studied about in New History class.
    Our group is led to a small dirt clearing under a thicket of trees, near one of the larger fire pits. Drones are roasting hunks of hoofer meat on long sticks nearby. The air is filled with smoke and the odor of burning flesh and animal hair. There are no spices or cooking pots here. Just people living like savages.
    I think about David. It doesn’t seem possible that he could come from this world, or even bear to live in it. I search around for him in vain, wishing I could find him.
    Then I look at Gadya. Her mouth is set in a tight line of revulsion like she’s trying to block out the entire world. I wish she and I hadn’t argued so fiercely earlier about Liam. I really need my friend back.
    “This is insane,” Rika whispers to me, her voice trembling. I clasp her hand in mine.
    A tall drone carrying an ax passes by, and we fall silent. Eventually we sit down on rocks and dirt in the clearing.
    Has Operation Tiger Strike been worth it so far?
    We’ve lost Liam. And Veidman. And so many others. And now we’ve been taken prisoner by the Cannibal Monk himself. I wonder again if what David said to me about my parents was a lie. I cling to any shred of hope I have left.
    “Hey there!” a squat, hairy drone yells as he approaches us, sneering. He’s wearing a necklace made from hoofer teeth. We all look over at him. “You thirsty? Hungry?”
    None of us want to admit that we are. Markus finally speaks. “What do you think?”
    “Personally, I don’t think you deserve anything to eat or drink. But I do the bidding of the Monk. My brain is a vessel of his greater good.” I see a glazed, zealous look in his eyes. “Bring these heathens water and meat!” he calls out to a nearby group of girls.
    “I’m not eating anything of yours,” Gadya snarls.
    “Then don’t. I hope you starve. But the Monk told me to take care of you. So that’s what I’m doing.” He turns away for a second. Then he turns back. “The Monk also wanted me to tell you about tonight’s entertainment. ”
    None of us say anything. The horror we see before us doesn’t leave much room for entertainment.
    “Tonight’s death battle, that is.” His pink tongue flicks between his blackened, pointed teeth. “Don’t worry about getting a good seat—’cause you’re gonna be center stage. Nothing beats a death battle.”
    “Death