The Forsaken

and study it, but there’s no time. I stomp my feet and swing my arms, trying to warm up.
    With a final glance back at the barrier, we begin hiking again. Markus takes the lead, prodding David along in front of him.
    “Hey, don’t touch me,” David says, turning back, shoving Markus’s hand away.
    Markus shoves him right back. “You better keep your mouth shut if you know what’s good for you.”
    “I don’t have to do what you say. We’re not in the kennels anymore,” David replies.
    “No, we’re someplace worse, which is why you both need to quit it!” Rika admonishes.
    But Markus has basically made David his prisoner again, and continues shoving him along roughly, no matter what Rika or I say. I wonder what secrets the gray zone has in store for us, and I desperately hope we can survive them.
    I think of my father’s carving of Sisyphus. I know exactly what it means—to keep going at all costs. To never give up. And to find meaning in the journey.

FROZEN
    WE MOVE SLOWLY, TRAVELING through a nightmarish landscape that looks like it’s been devastated by aerial bombings. The trees are twisted and stunted. Everything is off-kilter. Even the frigid air smells oddly sterile, antiseptic.
    Liam has been through this zone, I tell myself, curling my fingers in my gloves. He explored parts of the gray zone more than any of the other hunters. I try to calm myself and find some familiar trace of him in the landscape to cling to. But I find nothing.
    The drone carrying the Monk seems to barely notice his master’s weight. But Rika is having trouble walking. In addition to her injuries, the barrier took something out of her. I feel it too, a numbing exhaustion that saps my strength.
    Gadya and I settle into a rhythm, hiking next to each other. I wonder if she’s thinking about Liam too. I’m certain that she is.
    There aren’t any paths here, but the trees are so thinly spaced in places that we can walk between them, creating our own trails. Our feet crunch on the icy grass.
    “So Markus knows where he’s going?” I ask Gadya.
    “He better. Veidman told him the directions as a fail-safe. And Veidman was pretty meticulous.”
    “What if something happens to Markus?”
    “Then we’re screwed.”
    I wonder for a moment if Gadya knows the way too, and just isn’t admitting it. There has to be another fail-safe among us. I think back to Veidman’s strange request that I spy on the others for him. So far, no one has done anything suspicious, but I’m guessing I’m not the only one on this journey with secrets.
    We trudge along. The Monk’s drone should be getting tired from carrying him, but it looks like his misguided faith still keeps him going. I wish I had some of that energy. I feel cold, exhausted, and afraid. To keep going without that kind of faith is harder, but it feels more honest to me.
    I wonder how cold it’ll get inside this zone, because the temperature keeps dropping the deeper we go. The sky seems grayer too. Not darker, just a deeper shade of gray, as though I’ve stepped inside an old, flickering black-and-white movie. The kind my dad used to watch on contraband videodiscs, late at night.
    Our line abruptly comes to a halt, as Markus stops walking. He barks at David to halt as well.
    “We got a problem?” Gadya calls out. She’s shivering but trying to hide it.
    “No,” Markus replies. He’s looking around, like he’s seeking landmarks to guide him.
    “I’m freezing my butt off,” Gadya says. “You better not be lost.”
    I realize that the barrier must somehow divide two completely separate ecosystems. The sectors we left behind were all hot, humid, and intensely tropical. But here in the gray zone, everything is cold and dry, as though the water and heat are slowly being leeched out of the air. I have no idea what kind of island geography, or even government technology, could create this effect. It’s completely unnatural. But then again, so is everything about the wheel.
    I’m struck by a terrible thought, so I voice it to Gadya softly. “What if it just keeps getting colder and colder in this zone until we end up freezing to death?”
    She turns to me. “You want to go back? Be a big wimp? It’s just cold weather, so bundle up and tough it out.”
    “I will. But I also want to be smart and plan ahead.”
    A cackle interrupts me. It’s the Monk. He’s heard us talking, and his drone has carried him closer. “Plan ahead?” he rasps.
    “Just shut up!”