The Forsaken

best we can by the fire. We head up the desolate beach from the shore, into the forest. I don’t look back, and neither do any of the others, not even James.
    I don’t know how long we can survive out here without succumbing to the elements. We’re all going to end up like Minister Harka sooner or later, unless we find some way out of this cold. I thought I’d enjoy watching him die, but I didn’t—not after I learned the truth. Of course he took most of his mysteries with him to the grave. I still don’t know what he was going to say about my parents.
    I look around at my ragged band of companions. David is no longer Markus’s prisoner. The others trust him now. Still, that doesn’t matter if we can’t achieve our goal. So many of us are already dead. Maybe none of us will make it all the way to the end.
    I force the negative thoughts away. I can’t afford to think that way.
    We limp up a hill, getting closer to that shimmering mirage that supposedly masks a city beyond it. This hidden city must hold the secret to our escape—assuming Minister Harka was telling the truth, which is a pretty big assumption.
    I keep walking. I wonder what will happen if more feelers spot us now. I’m surprised that others didn’t come when we got trapped on the lake, but maybe the fact that we killed one of them scared the rest off. Of course, we won’t be able to fight like that again. There’s not enough of us left, and we’re too weak now.
    I think of my dad and his Greek myths for the millionth time. To imagine Sisyphus happy. Sometimes I wish I could get that phrase out of my head, because I just can’t do it yet. It’s a contradiction to imagine him happy when he has to suffer so much.
    But I do know one thing: Sisyphus must have been one hell of a survivor. He didn’t give up, whether he was happy or not. Focusing my mind on that thought, I start walking even faster, leading the pack with Gadya and David as we move through the forest toward our unknowable destiny.
    BY THE TIME WE FINALLY reach the base of what is indeed a bizarrely shimmering wall, I can’t feel much below my knees. I’m stumbling forward unsteadily. The others crowd around me. The air is so cold and still here that it’s like being inside a vacuum. The tips of Rika’s ears look like they’re crusting and turning black. I probably look even worse.
    “Minster Harka wasn’t lying,” I say, as I look up at the wall. It’s thin like a sheet of silk fabric, nearly translucent. Behind it, something is projecting images of trees and sky onto the material so that it camouflages whatever sits beyond. The screen creates the illusion that the forest continues forever.
    Gadya pushes at the fabric tentatively. It sways slightly, like a giant movie screen suspended on hundred-foot poles. I reach out and push it too.
    I look closer at the material. I see small holes and tears in it, like it’s been hanging here a long time and is starting to fall apart. Still, it creates a relatively convincing illusion, at least from a distance.
    “We have to cut our way through,” I say.
    Then I see that Gadya already has her knife out. She holds it up and slices downward in one clean motion. The blade shears the material, opening up a slit in the fabric. A colored light shines through, like we’ve exposed part of the projection mechanism.
    “Who wants to go first?” Gadya asks.
    Markus lumbers forward, barging his way through the opening. I follow, with David, Gadya, Rika, and James at my heels.
    Within seconds, we’re all standing there at the top of a grassy hill. Bright projector lights shine into our faces. I hold my hand above my eyes, trying to block the lights out. Behind the lights, I can see buildings, and my heart leaps.
    We’ve found the hidden city!
    But “city” isn’t the best word to describe it, because it looks nothing like New Boston or New Providence.
    From our angle, I mostly see the black roofs of gigantic industrial buildings stretching out for miles in either direction. It’s a mix of warehouses and factories. They’re all dotted with massive silver ducts, venting white puffs of steam into the frigid air. Tangles of white pipes connect many of the buildings to one another and run off into the surrounding forest at oblique angles.
    Beyond the city is the shore of the gray zone. Blue-green ocean stretches out for miles, and I can smell the tang of briny salt water.
    I can’t believe we’re actually here.
    We walk forward,