Nil Page 15

  “Only not so handy,” I said.

  “True. But he’s sharp enough to be dangerous,” Rives said. He was still watching Bart.

  “Only when he slacks off. He’s more annoying than anything else.” Turning back to the rocks, I had no intention of wasting more mental energy on Bart than I already had.

  Bart disappeared, and for me, it was out of sight, out of mind. With Charley, it was the complete reverse. The longer she was out of sight, the more I thought about her. And the more I tried not to think about her, the more she occupied my every thought. It was only when she returned from the groves—looking exhausted but uninjured—that I relaxed. Night had already fallen. Along with Rives and Talla, I helped Charley’s group unload packed satchels in the dark, filling baskets and shelves with fruits and nuts. They also brought back a chicken, a fresh food find. Eggs were a welcome change from fish any morning. So was Rives’s chatter, which filled the awkward gaps in the polite small talk between me and Charley. While Charley talked to Jillian, I slipped away.

  I was checking the chicken pen for gaps when Talla strode up.

  “Thad, who’s got Shack watch tonight?”

  I’d forgotten to set it up. “Me,” I answered.

  Talla crossed her arms. “You took it two nights ago. Why do you have watch again?”

  “Because I can’t sleep.” I coughed up this honest answer before I thought of a better one; it was the same reason I’d taken watch the night Rory died. When I wasn’t reliving the boar attack, I was thinking of Charley, knowing she was a few A-frames away, wondering if she was lonely or, worse, scared. My head was all over the place.

  Talla gave me a long look, then nodded. “Okay. I’ll relieve you at dawn.”

  True to her word, as the stars faded and pink streaks split the air, Talla appeared at the Shack.

  “Anything?” she asked.

  “Nothing,” I said, stretching. “Not a peep, not a roar. And no visitors.”

  “I don’t know if that’s good or bad,” Talla said. “But you’re done. Get some sleep.”

  Knowing I’d just lie there and think, I opted for exercise instead. I hit the beach, ran a series of hard interval sprints, and was bracing to go again when—like my thoughts made her real—Charley stepped onto the sand. Wearing Kevin’s shorts and a simple chest wrap, she wore her hair long and loose; it blew around her shoulders, like the first day I’d met her. I wanted to go to her, to spill my guts. But I didn’t know what might come out if I opened my mouth. Nil and Charley, both in my head, making it spin so fast I couldn’t separate my thoughts from my fears.

  So I ran. Away from Charley … going for speed … going for pain. Pain and more pain, because maybe if I hurt enough, Nil would let me sleep. And not feel.

  Mental pictures crashed in with the waves. Charley wearing Kevin’s clothes; Charley’s hair falling though my fingers; Charley’s hip against mine; Charley’s lips inches away; Charley’s hand covered with blood; Charley with Rives by the fire; Charley’s name on the Wall.

  It’s too late, Nil sang over the surf.

  My legs screamed for mercy, and my chest ached. A deeper ache than the need for air, and in that moment, I knew Nil was right. It was too late.

  But I still didn’t know what to do.

  CHAPTER

  26

  CHARLEY

  DAY 17, EARLY MORNING

  I’d ignored Talla’s advice, and three days later, mine had turned out to be a complete bust.

  Worry was eating me alive.

  I stepped outside, and disappointment hit me with the morning breeze. No one stood near the Wall. Only a handful of people were near the firepit, and Thad wasn’t among them. I couldn’t help feeling like he was avoiding me, or at least making no effort to see me, and I’d no clue why. All I knew was that my island guide was missing.

  And I missed him.

  And I hated that I missed him, because he obviously wasn’t missing me.

  After grabbing a wrap from the firepit, I sat alone on the black boulder, the same one I’d shared with Natalie and Sabine. Was it really only four days ago? Natalie was gone, on Search. And Sabine was just plain gone. Remembering her face flickering like a horrified hologram, I hoped she was home. Maybe she was with her family right now, eating pastries or whatever they eat for breakfast in France.

  Here in nowhereland, I was having a mystery meal wrapped in a thick green leaf.

  Expecting fish, I was thrilled to find shrimp. The only thing better would’ve been a big ole pile of cheese grits on the side, but shrimp was shrimp, and this shrimp was good. Plump and tasty, it was seasoned with coarse sea salt and chopped fruit.

  Six bites, and the shrimp were gone. Nothing remained but wilted greens.

  “You know, you can eat the leaves,” a smooth voice said.

  I looked up. Rives stood there grinning, holding a plank piled high with wraps and slices of yellow fruit.

  “Good to know.” I rolled up a green leaf and took a bite. “Tastes like spinach,” I said, making a face.

  He laughed and plopped down beside me. “It’s not spinach. I don’t know what it is; I just know it’s edible. And it’s better with shrimp. Hold out your board.”

  I did, and he dumped some fruit slices on it and another wrap.

  “Thanks,” I said.

  “No problem. And if you want fresh cow’s milk, just ask Jason. It’s warm, but tasty.” Rives raised his cup. “So,” he continued, smiling at me, “what’s your story?”

  “The short version? I was in the Target parking lot in Atlanta and a gate grabbed me. Then I woke up here, buck-naked.”

  Rives nodded. “The long version?”

  I shrugged, smiling. “Now that I think about it, there is no long version. That’s it.”

  “You’re wrong.” Rives wiped his mouth. “Everybody has a long version.”

  “So what’s yours?” I asked.

  “Short or long?” Rives’s light eyes twinkled, in that cocky way a guy’s eyes flash when he knows he’s good-looking. And Rives was. Perfect latte skin, model-worthy dreadlocks, and striking green eyes the shade of summer limeade.

  “Either.”

  “Grew up everywhere and nowhere, all over Europe and Asia. My dad’s American, my mom’s Swiss-French, but they’re both journalists, so we travel a lot. I was in Phuket when the gate hit. Now I’m here.” Rives popped a fruit slice into his mouth.

  I waited for him to finish chewing.

  “How old are you?” I asked. Rives seemed older than everyone else.

  “Seventeen.”

  My age, I thought, surprised. And Thad’s.

  “And you’re Thad’s wingman?”

  “Wingman?” Rives raised one eyebrow like Thad.

  I nodded. “You back him up, like with the wild boar thing.”

  Now Rives laughed. “I’m one of his Seconds.”

  “Maybe.” I smiled. “But I still say you’re his wingman.”

  Rives grinned, then wolfed down the rest of his wrap.

  “Where is he? Thad?” I tried to sound casual.

  “Teaching Talla how to fly a glider.”

  Talla. Talla with big boobs and flat abs, Talla the girl whose honor Thad flew to defend after she was struck by Rory. I knew he was busy, that as Leader he juggled lots of jobs. I’d just hoped island guide was still near the top of his list. But I was either selfish or stupid. Or both.

  “Hey,” Rives was saying, “you still there?”

  “Sorry.” I switched gears to a more pressing worry. “Rives, there’s something I need to tell you. As one of Thad’s Seconds.”

  “Shoot,” he said.

  “The day Rory died, I went exploring. I hiked north, and just before the north cliffs, I ran into Bart. He was crouched at the tree line, just off the sand, like he was hiding. Then Samuel caught his gate. The thing is, it looked like Bart was dashing out when I saw him—like he was about to steal Samuel’s gate.”

  Rives’s face went hard. “Really.”


  “I know, it sounds crazy. But that’s how it felt. Bart played it off, like I’d surprised him just as he was about to cheer Samuel on. But, Rives, I’m telling you, it felt weird.”

  Rives nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I’m on it. Thanks for the heads-up, C.”

  We finished our wraps, chatting easily. Relieved after unburdening my Bart worry, I did most of the talking, picking Rives’s brain about Search strategies and gate timing.

  “Rives—” I hesitated, unsure how to frame my next question. “The carving. The one Thad calls the Man in the Maze. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

  “Yeah. The one at the Arches.”

  “What do you think it means?”

  Rives shook his head. “I’m not sure.”

  “Me either. But I think it’s important. When I asked Thad about it, he said we’re all rats in a maze.” I paused. “I know I just got here. But I can’t shake the feeling that there’s more to it and that we need to figure it out, especially since there’s a second carving on the other side of the island.”

  “Maybe,” Rives said. “But unless it’s going to point us to a gate, I don’t see how it’s gonna help.”

  “Good point,” I admitted. “But think on it, okay?”

  “Will do. And hey, except for the Bart part, it was fun.” Rives tapped his empty plank against mine and smiled.

  I smiled back. “Thanks for listening.”

  “Anytime.” He stood, took a step, then he turned back. “Charley—about Thad.” My stomach did a little flip at his name. “Don’t give up on him, okay?”

  “Okay,” I said. But I thought, You’ve got it backward.

  “I mean it,” Rives said, watching me. “He’s solid. Give him a chance.”

  My emotions were obviously as clear as the Cove, because Rives said, “Look. Thad’s done a lot for the City. Since he’s been Leader, no one’s been hungry and no one’s gotten seriously hurt—until Rory. Thad’s all business, twenty-four seven. But with you, it’s different.”

  Wrong again, I thought. He treats me exactly like everyone else. And that’s what hurts.

  “You’re a great wingman,” I told Rives. For the first time, I saw a resemblance between Rives and his twin, Natalie. Both cared for Thad like a brother. That thought made me smile. “Listen, Thad and I are fine,” I lied. “He helped me get settled, and now I’ve got my hands full figuring out how to pitch in. No time to waste.”

  “True.” Rives nodded. But his usual grin was gone.

  An hour later, Julio was enthusiastically explaining the baking pits when Thad and Talla returned, walking side by side, laughing. I feigned interest in baking, but at that moment I couldn’t have cared less about sweet bread. I just wanted to get away.

  “Thanks, Julio,” I cut in, forcing a smile because Julio was a nice guy, and to land here at fifteen would have killed me. “I’ve got to go. See you later.”

  Talla caught me before the beach path. Thad was, of course, nowhere in sight.

  “Charley.” Talla’s voice was tight, like her overfull chest wrap, like her abs. “I don’t know what’s going on with you and Thad. And part of me doesn’t care. But you need to talk to him, because he’s kind of a mess.”

  I stared at her, stunned. “I’ve got to talk to him? He’s avoiding me, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  “Really? Because you’re the one who stalked off when we got back.” Her gaze was intense, and I realized I’d never seen her look any other way. Talla had a fierceness about her, a competitive spark that spilled over into even the most average moments, like now. “All I’m saying is that you two need to work it out, because he’s so distracted that he’s not helping anyone, especially himself.”

  I felt defensive, and I resented it.

  “Talla,” I said, keeping my voice level, “I don’t know you. And while I think you’re trying to help, there’s nothing to help with. Really.”

  Talla cocked her head, making the muscles in her shoulders ripple like cords. “You’re as bad as he is. Freaking awesome.” She sighed. “Well, this is going nowhere. C’mon, let’s run. Jillian’s waiting. Maybe a good workout will clear your head.”

  My head is just fine, I thought, but surprising myself, I agreed. It felt good to push my legs and focus on running, or rather, adopting Talla’s pace, sprinting like a swarm of yellow jackets was on our tail. I held my own, but Talla was faster.

  Jillian quit first, and although I didn’t admit it, stopping was a huge relief. “I’ve got to check the pulp,” Jillian said as she slowed. “See how it’s drying. I’ll see you two later.” With a warm smile and a wave, she turned toward the Shack.

  Talla nodded to me. “Good run.” Without waiting for a reply, she jogged away, no doubt ready to tear into someone else about the latest City infraction.

  I grabbed a firewood sling and headed south, down a path I’d never seen. Collecting tinder as I went, it felt good to explore and be productive. The path ended at an opening in the cliff. Light glinted at the far end.

  A tunnel, I thought.

  It was more a cavern than a tunnel. Dim light came from both ends, bouncing around the walls, making them glitter. Halfway through, I slowed, totally awed. Crystals lined the walls; they winked at me, playing tag with sunlight. More crystals lay scattered on the ground, some muddy, some clear. One loose piece near the exit looked like a perfect cube of sugar.

  With my mind consumed by Thad and Talla and rock cave crystals, it wasn’t until I spotted the black sand beach that I realized I’d emerged near where I’d camped my first days on Nil.

  I looked back, observing how easily the cavern blended into the cliff. A shortcut, I realized, making the City closer to Black Bay than I’d thought. The irony of the City’s proximity was as laughable as the island mini I’d first sported.

  Pausing to listen, I picked out muffled ocean sounds, the occasional bird, and the rustle of wind. I thought of the skull, and shivered. I’d just decided to walk to the Arches when Natalie’s words rushed back. Make sure to meet Jillian, she’s the best at identifying paper trees.

  An idea burst into my head, fully formed. I spun around, and taking the same shiny shortcut, I ran straight to the Shack. Jillian stood exactly where I’d hoped she’d be.

  “Jillian!” I said, eyeing the sheets of pulp. “Quick question. How do I get some paper?”

  CHAPTER

  27

  CHARLEY

  DAY 24, LATE MORNING

  I looked down in disgust.

  What should’ve been soap looked like curdled milk. Not exactly what anyone would want to rub all over their body, especially me.

  “Nice try,” Macy said encouragingly. “Just takes practice.”

  “I don’t know,” I said, watching Macy unwrap her bark mold to reveal a perfect square. “I’m not sure soap’s my thing.”

  I didn’t know what my thing was, but I was determined to figure it out, and soon. I was working on something—something unique—but at this point, it was still rough.

  As I rinsed my hands, I thought about Jillian stripping paper trees and Heesham beating the pulp to make cloth. I thought about Macy’s perfect soap molds and Julio’s mouthwatering bread. I thought about the teams collecting firewood, harvesting yams, picking redfruit, or wrapping fish. I thought about Li making delicate leis of flowers that began dying as soon as they were picked, but most of all, I thought about Thad.

  We’d barely spoken since the day Rory died. Thad was everywhere, and yet, missing. Behind the scenes, in plain sight, Thad had been working almost feverishly—discussing island medicine, repairing gliders, plotting Search team makeups and patterns, and organizing food: plantings, harvests, fishing, and who knew what else. Talking to everyone and anyone. He was both present and distant, even with me.

  Especially with me.

  Or maybe it was just that I always noticed where he was. Sometimes I felt his eyes on me, even when he was with someone else, but before we could talk, he’d v
anish. Once I’d caught him openly staring, looking like he was about to say something—and yet he hadn’t. Twice I’d woken early and seen him sprinting alone on the beach, pushing himself like he was training for the Olympics. I didn’t join him.

  I ran by myself.

  And explored by myself.

  And worked on my secret project by myself.

  Good times, I thought miserably.

  At that moment, I realized I was lousy company. My mom would be horrified at my lack of Southern graciousness.

  “So, how long do Search teams stay out?” I winced at my puny effort.

  “Usually a week,” Macy said. “Sometimes less, sometimes more. Natalie’s should be back any day. Same for Li’s.”

  I nodded.

  “Hey.” Macy grinned. “Cheer up, girl. It gets better.”

  “Thanks.” I returned her smile, not sure exactly what was going to get better, or how. “What do you miss the most? About home?”

  “You mean besides a decent razor and a DQ dip cone?” Macy laughed.

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I.” She smiled, a real smile, unlike my forced one. “I miss my family, and I miss my church. I miss all kinds of little stuff. But right now I’m missing football season. I’m a majorette, and football season is the best part of the year. And I’m missing it.” Macy squeezed my hand. “You’ll make it, Charley. You still look like you need to eat, but you’ll make it.” She chuckled. “I believe everything happens for a reason. I believe I’m supposed to be here, and I believe I’ll get back home. Same for you. Same for all of us.”

  I decided against bringing up Rory. He wasn’t going anywhere.

  “Thanks,” I said. “For the lesson, and the pep talk.”

  “Anytime.” Macy smiled. Serenity surrounded her like a bubble. As we carried our sandsoap back to the Shack, the walk was peaceful, like I’d finally taken a deep breath, long overdue.

  After leaving Macy, I ran into Jillian and Talla. One look from Talla and my Macy-bubble burst on sight.

  “We’re going running,” Talla offered. “Want to come?”

  “Thanks, but I already went.”