Nil Read online

  I noticed no one watched the ocean.

  “Do they ever come from the water?” I asked.

  “Nope. Just across land.” Tension rolled off Thad in waves.

  Heesham stood closest to us, about twenty feet away. Sabine stood near Heesham, her eyes as busy as Thad’s. Two other boys—one I recognized as Miguel—stood at the tree line; others were fanned to the right. Just as Natalie walked out from the trees with Li, the wind stalled, the sun felt hotter, and everything happened at once.

  The sand at Sabine’s heels melted. Shimmering sand rose into the air behind her, then the sand fell, leaving wavering, iridescent air stretching over her head. Recalling the gate that brought Rory, I immediately saw the difference. This gate was like the ones in the red rock field: more translucent, less reflective—more like glass than a mirror, and this gate rose from the ground, whereas Rory’s gate had popped midair and dropped. This gate was an outbound. And it was right behind Sabine.

  The gate was still rising when Heesham shouted, “Sabine! Run!”

  Other voices: “Li! Gate!” It was a chorus. “Li! Li!”

  To my surprise, Sabine leaped away from the gate, not toward it. At the same time, Li broke from Natalie, sprinting toward Sabine. Sabine twisting; Li running. The shimmering air streaked forward and rolled over Sabine. She cried out, the outlines of her body rippled and faded, the gate collapsed inward—and then it was gone.

  So was Sabine.

  Li stood five feet away, her face pale.

  Heesham let out a cry like a wounded bear, shattering the weird silence. His face set in furious stone lines, he strode to the ocean, where he launched something small into the sea. Without waiting for it to drop, he took off running, up the beach. Alone.

  The shift in the mood was shocking.

  No one smiled. No one laughed. Other than Heesham, no one even moved. Only on Nil does a naked boy fall from the sky and no one bats an eye. And yet when that gate swallowed Sabine, everyone looked shocked.

  I turned to Thad. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t people happy for Sabine? Did something bad happen to her?”

  “No. It’s just—Li’s been here so long, that gate should have been hers. And Sabine’s a huge loss.” Thad shook his head. “Huge.”

  Miguel and a blond boy I hadn’t met yet walked up. The blond boy’s face was a mixture of fury and defeat—like Heesham’s, but different. Less angry, more frustrated.

  “Thad,” he said, in an accent I couldn’t begin to place, “you see? Our best healer, gone.” The boy snapped his fingers, then clenched his hair at the roots. His eyes sparked. “Sy brought this upon us. You talk to him. Make him see.”

  Thad sighed. “I hear you, Johan. I’ll try.”

  The boy nodded, slightly mollified.

  Miguel cocked his head at the angry boy. “Ready, amigo?” After a quick triple count, they took off at a fierce sprint.

  “My money’s on Johan,” Thad said. His tone was dull.

  “You don’t have any money,” I said. “At least not here.”

  “No, I don’t.” His voice still flat, Thad watched the boys race.

  “Thad, look at me.” That got his attention. “You said everyone wanted Li to catch that gate. That it should’ve been hers. What did you mean?”

  Thad glanced back at the boys, but not before a shadow flickered across his face, a soul-wrenching darkness at odds with the brilliance of the day.

  “C’mon,” he said, “let’s walk.”

  I didn’t move. “No. I don’t want to walk. I want to know what’s going on. And I want to know now.”

  Thad looked at me, his golden hair falling into his eyes, his face set in hard lines. Then he sighed, and his face melted into the same defeat I’d just seen on Johan. “You’re right. You have to know. I was just—” Shaking his head, he gave a humorless laugh.

  “Just what?” I asked.

  “Being an idiot. Hoping to delay the inevitable, pretending for a minute it didn’t exist. But it does.”

  “What?” I frowned, frustrated.

  “Nil.” Thad sighed. “Okay, here’s the deal. You get here, as a teenager, somewhere between thirteen and nineteen. You have one year. To catch a gate, or—” He stopped, his sapphire eyes so full of fire I thought he might go up in flames.

  “Or?” I prompted.

  “You die.”

  The bright blue sky remained cloudless, and the aquamarine ocean still crashed gently onto the white sand beach, but the scene was suddenly warped. Twisted, as I processed Thad’s words.

  “What do mean, you die?”

  “You die.” Thad’s voice was heavy; the fire was gone. “It’s like everyone has a personal window of time that the gateway to Nil stays open for them. It’s always one year. Exactly three hundred sixty-five days. If you miss that window, you’re done.”

  “What do you mean, you’re done? You die? How?” I’d always been a stickler for details, and these seemed pretty darn important.

  “I’m not really sure. I’ve never been with anyone on their last day, and most people Search alone at that point. Then we either find their clothes or their body.” Thad looked sick. “That’s why I asked you about the days, because it’s important to keep count.”

  “Tick-tock,” I said, doing some quick mental math.

  “You okay?” Thad’s eyes searched mine.

  “Peachy. Eighteen is overrated.”

  “Don’t tell me you’re giving up.” He sounded shocked.

  “I was kidding. I’ve still got three hundred fifty-two days.” I looked at Thad. “What about you? How many do you have left?”

  Thad’s grin was wry. “Eighty-six. But who’s counting?”

  Me. Em-bleeding-behind-the-wheel fear shot through me. I couldn’t imagine Nil without Thad, but it was more than that. It was something deeper, something raw, something that I didn’t expect or understand, something I just felt.

  Me.

  CHAPTER

  17

  THAD

  DAY 279, AFTER NOON

  I’d swear she said, “Me.”

  Maybe I’d read her lips, or maybe it was what I wanted to hear. When I’d told her the truth, horror flickered through her golden eyes—and something inside me let go. Not broke, but gave in. Made me want.

  To fight.

  To stay.

  To be with Charley, a girl I didn’t know but wanted to—more than I’d wanted anything in months. For the first time since my feet hit Nil dirt, there was something I wanted more than leaving: time. Time without limits, time to get to know the girl who made me feel alive again. And in that moment, I hated Nil all over again, because she’d given me something she could snatch away, or worse, keep for herself.

  I swallowed, fighting the rush of emotion, then a surge of guilt. I hated that I’d deceived Charley. Maybe not outright lied, but certainly hadn’t told her the full truth from the get-go. It was a total Bart move.

  “I’m sorry, Charley.” I felt like a slimeball.

  “Did you just say sorry, Charley?” A smile lit her face, like she was happy to not be talking about death anymore. “Like I’ve never heard that one before. What are you sorry for?”

  “For not telling you sooner. I didn’t because once you know, you start watching the days, and you never stop, but it’s no excuse. I should have told you this morning.” I scanned her face, trying to figure out where I stood.

  For a minute, she looked far away. Then she smiled at me, her eyes warm and clear. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’m kind of glad you didn’t. Hey, still up for that walk?”

  Looking at Charley, her chin slightly raised, looking more gorgeous and full of quiet fight than any girl I’d ever met, I grinned. “Not anymore. Rain check?”

  She looked taken aback. But more than anything, she looked tired.

  I chuckled. “You look beat. I don’t think a long beach walk is what you need right this second. I might have to carry you back.”

  She glared at me. “No one ask
ed you to carry me.”

  “True. And hey, I’d do it again. But there’s something I want you to see.” Something to counter the ugliness of Nil, something I had a hunch Charley would love.

  We cut through the City, then through the trees.

  “So I can’t walk down the beach, but I’m strong enough for a woods hike?” Charley asked. Her face was pale, a fact I didn’t miss—or like.

  “It’s close. Two minutes, tops, but I could use a snack.” I paused, giving her a chance to take a break. “What about you?”

  “Sounds great,” she said, sitting on a black rock. “I’m thinking a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, chips, and a Snickers. And a Sprite.” As she talked, her hand crept to her head.

  “How ’bout a pineapple?” I pulled the fruit from my satchel. “It’s almost a Snickers. Minus the chocolate, the caramel, nuts, and nougat.” With my knife, I sliced the pineapple in two and cored each half. After cutting a half-moon slice, I speared the yellow fruit on my knife and offered it to Charley.

  “Wow,” she said, plucking the fruit off my blade. “Where’d you get the handy tool? I gutted a poor pineapple with lava rock. It didn’t go so well.”

  “The Shack. There’s a stash of knives in there. Most are wood. They’re stronger than you think, and there’s a few rough metal ones, too, like this one. Someone before us made them. Our job is to sharpen them and not lose them.” Thanks again, Bart. Leave it to the biggest tool to take one on Search and come back without it. I made a mental note to talk to Bart again later, along with Sy. Then I focused on Charley.

  The two of us ate quietly, tossing rinds into the woods and licking juice off our fingers.

  “Best Snickers I’ve ever had.” Charley smiled. “Thanks.”

  I laughed. “Just wait. It gets better.”

  We walked in easy silence. Blue sky shone ahead, and when we broke through the trees, an open meadow burst with color: purples, blues, pinks, reds, yellows, and lots of white. Riding the breeze, the colors shifted in gentle waves.

  “This is the Flower Field,” I said. “I don’t know what kinds of flowers they are, but—”

  “It’s gorgeous,” Charley said simply.

  For a minute, we just stood there. As they always did, my eyes drifted to the brightest patch of white. Not in the field, but high to the right, on the mountain peak. White covered the summit, like confectionary sugar, full of icy goodness. My mouth watered; I could almost taste the snow. I closed my eyes and let myself go, feeling a sick powder rush. This was my favorite spot on the island, and my most hated.

  Then the wind whispered, making me open my eyes and look at Charley.

  Her eyes were on the field. The wind played with her hair, pushing it around, making the ends tickle her shoulders. Her head was tilted to one side, and her expression was strange.

  “What is it?” I asked.

  She looked at me and smiled. “Nothing. Thanks for showing me this.” But when she looked back at the field, the weird expression returned. It bothered me that I couldn’t read it.

  “Charley, what’s wrong?”

  Charley laughed, a subtle sound that said everything. “It’s funny,” she said, still watching the Field. “Everything’s so beautiful here. Too beautiful. Like it’s not real. And it really isn’t.”

  “Oh, it’s real,” I said.

  She shook her head. “I’ve never seen such beauty. The black sand beach, the Crystal Cove. The Flower Field. Even the red lava field was beautiful in its own freaky way. But it’s not really real. Because in three hundred fifty-two days, it will all disappear, right?” Charley turned to me, and her golden eyes were haunted.

  The façade was gone. For Charley, Nil’s mask had finally cracked, this time for good.

  *

  That afternoon, I pulled Rives aside and told him about the skull Charley had found.

  “Take Miguel, Heesham, and Nat and anyone else you want. Go to Black Bay, try to find it. If you do, try to make an ID. Look for a necklace, a bracelet. Anything.” I handed him a bag of bleached coral. “Then bury it.”

  Rives nodded. “Will do, bro.”

  As Rives walked away, I thought about the skull. Can we leave? Charley had asked, her golden eyes troubled. Everyone leaves, eventually, I’d said. And it was true. Now, whether you made it out alive or dead, that was a different question, and the answer was up to Nil.

  Nil crazy, Li had said.

  She was so right. And right now, she was exactly the person I needed to see.

  CHAPTER

  18

  CHARLEY

  DAY 13, EARLY EVENING

  I sat on the bed while Natalie messed with my hair. It was the latest surreal Nil moment of the day. Less Survivor, more like America’s Next Top Model, island edition, but I still felt completely out of place.

  Outside Natalie’s hut, twilight approached, flickering like torchlight. Using the final moments of daylight, Natalie was crafting an island updo, so intent on her work that she didn’t speak, although I sensed that her thoughts dwelled on something more important than my hair. She’d barely spoken since I’d returned from the Flower Field. I had no idea what to say to make her feel better, because the thing was, I didn’t feel so great myself.

  Eighty-six days.

  Three hundred fifty-two days.

  Eighty-six days.

  The numbers flashed like neon signs in my head. Once you know, you start watching the days, and you never stop. Thad was right. But it was his days that I was stuck on. Three hundred fifty-two seemed like a lifetime compared with eighty-six.

  “Natalie.” I turned, and she hit me in the nose with her comb.

  “Sorry!” It was the first smile I’d seen from her this afternoon.

  “Listen, Thad told me about the days.”

  “I know. He had to.” Her voice was hard.

  “I’ve been wondering. How many do you have left?”

  “Thirty-three.”

  “Thirty-three?” I jumped up. “Why aren’t you on Search?” From what I knew, it seemed pretty darn clear she should be out hunting shimmers, not sitting here combing my hair.

  “Yeah. But when Kevin left, I kind of lost it. I had to know if he made it, and I was afraid to leave, afraid I’d miss the news, or find—” She stopped, her free hand fingering the shell bracelet on her wrist. “I’m leaving in the morning. I just confirmed my team with Thad.”

  Thad. Thad, with eighty-six days, busy taking care of me and apparently everyone else—like Natalie, who looked less than excited about going on Search.

  “Don’t you want to go?” I frowned.

  “I do. But today, it was a reality check, you know? A reminder of how tricky it is to catch a gate. Sabine’s gone, and she wasn’t here long enough to get a haircut. And then there’s Li, who’s got less than two weeks.” She twisted her bracelet so hard the shells dented her wrist. “I might not make it, Charley,” she whispered. “I might not see Kevin again. There’s no guarantee. Not here.”

  “Not anywhere,” I said. “But you can’t think like that.”

  She stared at her bracelet.

  “Natalie, I haven’t been here long enough to know how you feel, and I’m not going to pretend I do. But Kevin made it, and you can, too. You can’t give up. You’ve got thirty-three chances, and more than that if you think of how many doubles might be out there, too, not to mention triples or quads. But you can’t catch one if you don’t try.”

  Now she looked up. “Quads?”

  “Yup. I saw one on my first day here. My point is, don’t quit. Not on Kevin, not on yourself. And not on me, okay? You kind of remind me of my sister, Em—unless you quit.” I squeezed her hand, thinking I pretty much stunk at the whole rah-rah thing. This is why you were never a cheerleader, Charley, I thought. That and the fact that you’re six feet tall.

  She hugged me so fiercely it was like she’d channeled Em. “Thanks, Charley. I’m so glad it was you who found Kev’s clothes.” She paused. “You didn’t find an
ything with the clothes, did you?” The hope lighting Natalie’s eyes belied her casual tone.

  “Just sandals. Why?” Thad’s words from this afternoon popped into my head. Our job is to sharpen them and not lose them. “Oh, are you talking about a knife? Is that what I missed?”

  Natalie looked taken aback. “A knife? No. It’s nothing.” Then she regarded me with the same critical eye my mom gave me when I’d cut my bangs in sixth grade. “Now, we’d better get to it if we’re gonna finish that hair before tonight.”

  Thirty minutes later, Natalie announced, “Done.”

  Using two thin sticks, she’d swept part of my hair into what Natalie assured me was a very a fashionable ’do. The rest trailed down my back. Then she’d smudged my eyes with charcoal and glossed my lips with something that tasted like pomegranate. Stepping back, she looked at me like a painter studying her canvas. “You look amazing. I’d kill for your coloring, not to mention your legs. There’s just one thing missing.” She raised one finger and grinned. “Got it.” Reaching over, she broke a single white blossom off a wreath by her bed and tucked it behind my ear. “There,” she said, nodding. “No bunches of flowers in the hair, too fussy for you. But this”—she adjusted the flower—“is perfect.”

  Her eyes dropped to my clothes, and she frowned. “Well, at least they’re clean. It’s not like I can pop into Anthropologie and get you something else, right? But I can make these fit better.” In a flash, Natalie adjusted my halter; the uncomfortable knot of fabric at my back vanished. Then she retied my skirt, making it shrink by inches.

  “Stop tugging on it, Charley.” She intercepted my hand, grinning. “It’s not as short as you think. Plus, you only live once.” Her own words caught her off guard. I saw her stiffen, then close her eyes, fighting herself.

  This time I hugged her.

  “Natalie, it’s okay. You’ll make it.”

  For a minute she just held me tight. Then she let go and wiped her eyes.

  “Okay, that’s enough mushy gushy,” she said. “Otherwise we’ll smear our charcoal, and I worked hard on that.” Smiling, she draped the wreath of flowers around her neck. Then, like she’d done it dozens of times before, she grabbed a handful of tiny white blossoms from a small bowl and tucked them into her hair in three seconds flat, like pearls sparkling within the strawberry blond. “Thanks, Charley. I’m glad you’re here, even though I’m sorry you’re here.” She smiled, a real Natalie smile.