Free The Forsaken by Lisa M. Stasse

pretty. You’re gonna get hit on a lot. Especially when you clean up and fix your hair.”
    “Thanks, but no way,” I protest. “Back home I was totally invisible to guys. To everyone, really.”
    “So were a lot of us. It’s different on the wheel for some reason.”
    Gadya leads me along an overgrown path running parallel to the main camp. We stop at a supply shack, and she rummages through it, taking out a pair of jeans, a plain black tank top, and a pair of boots. I don’t ask who these clothes belonged to, because I’m afraid their previous owner is a corpse.
    Then Gadya takes me down to the bank of a large gray river. The water’s moving rapidly. I see the bathing shacks standing near the edge, jutting out of the muddy bank like crooked teeth.
    We walk to the edge of the choppy water. “The River Styx,” I murmur, thinking of those Greek myths again. “The river from hell.”
    “And you haven’t even felt how cold it is yet.” Gadya walks over to one of the bathing shacks and yanks open the door. A gray towel spotted with mildew hangs on a hook inside. “No shampoo, only homemade soap from hoofer fat,” she says, rummaging around.
    I walk over, and she hands me a white lump of soap. It feels disgusting, like congealed snot. “Thanks.”
    “I’ll be tending the fire. Come find me when you’re done.”
    I nod.
    She leaves me there and strides back up the riverbank, disappearing into the trees. I’m very conscious of the fact that I’m all alone now in this strange domain.
    It doesn’t seem possible that my life has come to this. I never thought I’d be homesick for the bland amenities of government-controlled life in the UNA. Yet here I am.
    I strip down, hanging my old clothes and bra under the towel. I bathe quickly in the icy water, kneeling and splashing to wash grime off my skin and grit from my hair. Then I dry myself and get dressed, slipping back into my panties and itchy bra, and then my new jeans, tank top, and boots. The jeans are baggy, and the tank top has a few holes in it, but at least these clothes are clean and dry. I smooth back my wet hair with my hands. My arms are already covered in mosquito bites.
    Although I still feel like I’m living inside a surreal nightmare, I know I’m going to have to shake that feeling pretty fast. I need to make friends, find out what’s really going on here, and figure out if there’s a way to get off the wheel before something bad happens to me, like it already did to David. I wish I could somehow find a way to honor my promise and go back for him. I owe him my life. But there’s no way to reach him right now.
    I leave the towel on the hook, tuck my old clothes under my arm, and rapidly head up the riverbank to the village, in search of Gadya and more answers.

THE NIGHT RAID
    WHEN I FINALLY REACH the main clearing, a fire is already roaring in the pit. Yellow flames dance upward into the darkening sky. Occasional gusts of wind blow the flames sideways, scattering orange embers across the dirt and grass.
    There’s no sign of Gadya. I feel awkward and vulnerable without her around. Two rugged boys I don’t know yet are feeding the fire with dead branches. They look up as I near.
    Then I hear footsteps behind me. I turn around, expecting to see Gadya. Instead it’s Assassin Elite.
    “What do you think of this place?” he asks.
    “I’m just grateful to be here, let’s put it like that.”
    He laughs. “It’s a dump. A total hovel. We all know that.”
    I hear a sharp voice to my left: “Alenna!”
    To my relief, it’s Gadya, trailed by a freckled girl I haven’t seen before. This girl is short and a little heavy, wearing overalls and a necklace made from seashells. Probably just a bit older than I am. Her auburn hair is in braids, and she’s wearing glasses.
    “Is this idiot bothering you?” Gadya calls out to me.
    “C’mon, I’m just being friendly!” Assassin Elite—or whatever his real name is—retorts.
    “Yeah, I’ll