The Forsaken

much as I hate this deranged, terrifying figure.
    Then he speaks. “You passed. All of you. You passed my test.”
    “What the hell are you babbling about?” Gadya spits.
    “I was watching.” His voice grows louder. “I was judging you. And you have pleased me.”
    “I don’t understand,” I call out, my voice shaking.
    “My devotees follow me unquestioningly. They believe in my powers as a messiah, and in the glorious afterlife that awaits them off the wheel. But now I know that even you—the faithless, the infidels—can act as one as well. For the benefit of your group.” His head turns from side to side. “You can put down your weapons.”
    “How do we know this isn’t another test?” Gadya challenges.
    The Monk’s wooden mask gives only its implacable smile. “You don’t.”
    “Then we’re not going to surrender!” Markus tells him.
    The Monk swivels his head back and forth lazily again. “You don’t need to. My devotees will surrender to you.”
    At his words, the members of his camp begin lowering their weapons and putting them on the ground. Hundreds of them. I glance at my companions, but they’re as puzzled as I am. I want to rip the mask off the Monk’s face and see who’s behind that wooden façade. But all I can see are his eyes. They’re dancing crazily again. Dancing happily.
    We stand there, not sure what to do. The drones are all unarmed now.
    “See?” the Monk says. “They do as I ask, because they know I can save their eternal souls. My followers pose no threat to you anymore.” He claps his hands together. His four throne bearers hoist him up even higher. “Disperse, my faithful ones!” he rasps loudly.
    The drones begin to shamble away. A few of them drag their injured or dead companions with them. Most of them resume their previous activities like zombies, like nothing happened. Meanwhile I stand there, totally panicked inside. I thought I was about to die.
    I watch as drones return to the fire pits, to their feasting and dancing. Other than a few lingering stares, it’s like no one cares about us anymore. Or the fact that we hurt and killed so many of them.
    I realize this camp truly is a hive, with the Monk as queen bee. They follow his orders without thinking. Where is their free will? Maybe they don’t think free will is important, just like our government back home clearly didn’t.
    The Monk stares down at us from his chair. “I will explain how to get through the barrier tomorrow. There’s only one way it can be breached. But tonight you must rest. You must gather strength. The journey beyond the barrier will be . . . challenging.”
    None of us can think of anything to say in response. He claps again, and his bearers take him away back into the forest. The trees and the darkness close around him. He’s just a specter. We finally start lowering our weapons. The threat is over for now.
    My legs feel shaky.
    “He’s insane, isn’t he?” Rika whispers. Her face is ashen. She still hasn’t lowered her spear. Gadya notices.
    “It’s okay, Rika. You can put that down now.”
    Rika is still staring after the Monk.
    Gadya takes Rika’s spear and gently lowers it for her. “If they make us fight again, I’ll protect you.”
    “We’ll protect each other,” Sinxen adds. “We just have to live through this.”
    Markus nods. “If the Monk is telling the truth, then he’ll help us get through the barrier. But we’re the ones with a map of the gray zone in our heads. He needs us more than we need him. We’ll get our revenge on the other side.”
    I don’t know what’s in store for us. But I think of the Monk’s word—“challenging.” It carries an air of menace. On the wheel, “challenging” can mean only “life-threatening.” But it’s too late to turn back.
    “Let’s get some food and try to sleep,” I say to the others, shouldering my weapon with aching arms. “It’s going to be a long night.”

THE GRAY ZONE
    THE LIGHT OF MORNING eventually finds us, illuminating our ravaged faces. None of us got more than a couple hours of sleep. Despite the Monk’s promise that we would be safe, two of us kept watch at a time, just in case. We’re all exhausted and chilled to the bone. What little sleep I got was haunted by dreams of Liam being taken.
    The Monk’s people don’t have shelters or hammocks. They just sleep outside by the fires in the filthy mud. From what I’ve observed, they don’t care about themselves, or about