Nil Read online

  I smirked, then followed him inside, searching for a snappy retort, but by the time I thought of one, the moment was gone.

  Like the other huts, this one had black rock as a foundation, topped with open wood framing and a thatched roof. Shelves lined the sides and back, filled with neat stacks of ivory-colored cloth, baskets of rags, balls of twine, knives, satchels, more gear I didn’t recognize, and sandals. Lots of sandals.

  “This is the Shack,” Thad was saying. “It’s where we store our gear. Sheets, clothes, tools, gourds, rope, you name it. And most important for you, sandals. It’s no Sport Chek, but it works.”

  “What’s Sport Chek?” I asked, then instantly felt stupid. Sport Chek sounded like Dick’s Sporting Goods, only with a much cooler name. Either my brain was still asleep or I’d whacked my head harder than I’d thought.

  “A sporting goods store back home,” Thad said conversationally, as he sifted through a row of sandals. “Okay,” he said, handing me a pair identical to the ones I was wearing. “Try these. See if they fit better.”

  I slid one on. It fit perfectly.

  “Impressive,” I said. “You’ve got a future in ladies’ footwear if this island gig doesn’t work out.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind. I have other plans, but it’s good to have a backup.” Grinning, he held out his hand. “I’ll take your old ones.”

  I passed them over, and as Thad went to stash them on the shelf, he stopped, frowning. Bloody sandal in hand, he looked up. “Are you hurt, Charley?”

  Light bounced off his cheekbones, making his face more chiseled than ever, but it was his expression that took me aback. Worried, oddly protective. His blue eyes caught mine, and I stuttered, “No. I mean, I was. I cut my foot my first day here. It’s better now. I soaked it in the ocean.”

  “Good call.” Thad set the bloody sandal aside. “Ready?” He tipped his head toward the exit and smiled. My brain was mush.

  The fresh air outside cleared my head. “Okay, about Nil.” The word felt foreign on my tongue. “What is this place? How’d I get here? Tell me everything.”

  We started away from the camp, and the ocean rumble faded. I paid attention, keeping my bearings as we walked, and I was about to repeat my question when Thad answered.

  “Have you ever seen the reality television show Survivor?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.”

  “Okay, well, Nil’s kind of like that, except no one shows up with bags of rice, and no one gets letters from home. And of course, no one gets voted off.”

  Again, I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic.

  “So how do we leave? I mean can we leave?” Before he could answer, I blurted out, “I found a skull.”

  “A skull?” Thad stopped walking. “Where?”

  “Near the bay, just off the beach. I”—I paused, swallowing—“I tripped over it.”

  Thad looked thoughtful.

  “It looked old,” I added. “Like it had been there a while.” When he didn’t say anything, I spoke quietly. “Thad, what happened to that person?”

  He shook his head. “I don’t know.” The honesty in his voice was pained.

  “So, can we leave?” I repeated.

  “Sure. Everyone leaves, eventually.” The flatness in Thad’s voice was back.

  “Really?” I asked, suddenly skeptical. How? How do we get home?”

  “Same way you got here, Charley. A gate. Catch one, and you’re gone.”

  “A gate?” I frowned. I hadn’t seen anything that looked like a gate, or even a door. Then a lightbulb went off. “Are you talking about the shimmers?”

  “Shimmers?” Thad smiled. “I haven’t heard that term, but yeah, same thing. Shimmer. Liquid wall. Air boil. Heat wave. Wormhole. Portal. Gate.” He paused. “Call it what you want, but it’s all the same thing. It’s the only way off the island.”

  I had a million questions about the gates, about Nil. Each question waved its hand, begging to be called on first, so naturally I asked something else. “You said Sport Chek was a store back home, but I’ve never heard of it. Where’s home?”

  “Whistler, British Columbia. Just north of Vancouver in Canada. You?”

  “I’m American. I live near Atlanta, in a town called Roswell.”

  We were moving again through the trees, parallel to the ocean. The only sound was our footfalls; there were no crickets, insects, or animal noises at all. Weird, I thought. The silent island.

  “Roswell? Like the town with all the alien stuff?” Thad was asking.

  I laughed. “Yeah. That’s Roswell, New Mexico. I live in Roswell, Georgia.” I paused. “But after the shimmer in the parking lot, Roswell, Georgia, doesn’t seem too normal either.”

  “Let me guess. It was noon, really bright sun. The ground melted, took flight, and the next thing you knew, you were burning and blacked out. And then you woke up naked.” His tone was so nonchalant he may as well have been describing the menu at the local Chick-fil-A.

  “Pretty much. Is that what happened to you?” I asked.

  “Different verse, same song.”

  I shot Thad a puzzled look.

  He smiled. “Everyone’s story is pretty much the same. Different places, different countries, but it’s always noon, it’s always sunny. There’s always a gate and then—poof. You wake up naked. Here on Nil.”

  You forgot alone.

  “Okay, Charley, it’s just through these trees.”

  The trees were green and lush. The ground sloped down, then the trees gave way to a vast pool nestled in black rock, like some exotic swimming hole straight from a Hollywood movie. The water was clear and sparkling, except for the ripples of white stretching from the far side where a waterfall at least three stories high cascaded down a wall of black; it poured into the pool with a steady roar—like the ocean, but more constant, less rhythmic.

  “This is it,” Thad said. “Crystal Cove.”

  “It’s beautiful,” I whispered. Another piece of my tropical paradise, worthy of a postcard, not that I could send one from here. I thought of Em, and a lump rose in my throat.

  “You okay? You look pale. Did we walk too far?”

  “No. I’m fine. I just”—I swallowed—“I wish my sister could see this.” I pictured Em tilting her camera, the one with the fancy lens she got for her birthday, snapping shot after shot. The lump in my throat grew. “She’d love this.”

  Thad’s voice was quiet. “She’s better off where she is.”

  I looked at Thad. He was reaching into his satchel, his face hidden.

  “Okay,” he said, looking up with a grin. “I’ve got coconut soap, a towel, and new clothes. The pool’s shallow. But be careful. Over by the waterfall, it drops fast to overhead. Behind the waterfall is a small ledge. I’ll leave your stuff at the edge here, then I’ll turn around.” His deep blue eyes turned playful. “I promise not to peek.”

  My cheeks burned. “Definitely no peeking.” My mouth felt dry and yucky, and suddenly I felt icky all over again. “Crazy question. Do y’all have any toothbrushes?”

  “Sort of. They’re rough, but they work.” Thad pulled a contraption from his satchel. It was a stick with some spiky things on one end. “The bristles don’t last that long; they’re plants. This one’s yours. Natalie made it.”

  “Thanks.” I felt incredibly grateful to a girl I didn’t even know. Then I had a thought. “Do objects come through the gates too? Like toothbrushes?” I smiled.

  “Nope. No objects. Just living things, like people. Everything here in Nil City has been made by us or those who have come before.” His voice was unmistakably proud, but sad, making me wonder what he was thinking.

  He looked down, and a ray of light glinted off his hair, gold on gold. And in that moment, I’d never felt filthier in my entire life.

  I took one step toward the pool and stopped. Rocks lined the edge, full of nooks and crannies—perfect hideouts for water moccasins. “Thad,” I said slowly, eyeing the water, “are there snakes in the
re?”

  “Nope.” He grinned, and the mischievous glint in his eyes returned. “No snakes. Not in the Cove, not anywhere on Nil.”

  “None? Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure. There’s nothing cold-blooded on the island. No snakes, no lizards. No reptiles of any sort. Only warm-blooded creatures make it to Nil.”

  “Huh. No snakes.” Nil instantly was less scary. I took another step toward the Cove, then turned back again.

  “Aliens? What about aliens?”

  “There are no aliens in the Cove,” Thad answered straight-faced.

  “Not in the Cove. I meant on Nil.” I rolled my eyes. “It’s just—the first day I was here, I saw some creatures, flying. Like birds, but I swear they had heads. Human heads. And well, with the freaky way I got here, I’ve been wondering what they were. And if they’re dangerous.”

  Now the corners of Thad’s mouth curved up. “That was me and Jason, using gliders.” He cocked one eyebrow, his grin spreading. “So nothing dangerous, eh?”

  I think you’re plenty dangerous. “Well, I did fall and hit my head within minutes of laying eyes on you,” I said.

  “I’m sorry about that,” he said, running his hand through his hair.

  I snorted. “Why are you apologizing for me fainting?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t catch you.”

  An awkward silence fell between us; the crisp morning air was suddenly heavy. Thad cleared his throat and pointed to the Cove.

  “Word of warning, Charley. The water’s chilly. It’s spring-fed, so when you first walk in, it’s a bit of a shock.” He grinned, a lazy grin that stole oxygen from the air. “I’ll turn around now.”

  With Thad’s back to me, I stepped into the pool.

  The water wasn’t chilly. I know chilly. The early November air that brushes your face first thing in the morning is chilly. The can of Sprite when you pull it from the refrigerator is chilly. The water in the shower before the hot side kicks in feels chilly.

  The pool water was freezing. Stepping into the Cove felt like stepping into an ice bath, something I’d done once after an intense volleyball workout at the suggestion of our overzealous coach who thought ice baths were great for muscle recovery. I’d thought it was pure torture. And right now I was thinking my dreamy island bath with coconut soap would be the shortest one in history.

  But the longer I sat in the icy water, the better I felt. I scrubbed my skin with the milky soap, feeling sand scour my skin, rubbing until my skin turned red and was tender to the touch. Until it felt clean.

  Then I tackled my hair. I could feel the cut, and took pains to avoid it.

  “You doing okay, Charley?” Thad called. “Still conscious?”

  “Fine.”

  “Let me know if you need help.” I heard the laughter in his voice.

  “I’ve got it, thanks. You know, I have taken a bath before, even though I may not have looked like it.”

  Now Thad laughed out loud.

  After I rinsed my hair, it felt like wet straw, and I knew it would be a nightmare to untangle without conditioner. Then I realized I didn’t even have a brush. But maybe Thad did. His handy satchel seemed full of tricks, like an island version of a magic hat.

  I left the water, toweled off, and dressed quickly in the fresh clothes. Same material as before, only this time it was a halter top and a piece of cloth that I guessed was a skirt. No underwear. Does everyone here go commando? I wondered, wrapping the skirt around my waist. As I tied it tight, I laughed. It was shorter than the ones I was returning to Target, the crazy-short minis that had landed me here in the first place.

  “What’s so funny?” Thad asked.

  “I think Nil has a sense of humor,” I said as I gave my skirt a dirty look. “A twisted one.”

  “You catch on fast.”

  I looked back at the clothes I’d been wearing, wondering if I could wear the shorts instead, but now that I was clean, I saw how filthy my old clothes—or rather, Kevin’s—were. Too yucky to be an option, that was for sure. The shorts were so grimy they made my island mini look good by comparison: a sad fact if there ever was one.

  “Are you dressed yet? Clearly these trees are fascinating, but if you’re decent…” He trailed off.

  “I’m decent.” Sort of, excluding my teeny mini. “You can turn around now.”

  “How’re you feeling?” Thad’s eyes went straight to my legs.

  Embarrassed.

  “Better,” I said. “It feels great to be clean. Thanks for the help.”

  “I didn’t help. But I offered, remember?” He grinned.

  I groaned. “You know what I meant.”

  He grinned wider.

  Definitely dangerous.

  Changing the subject, I said, “I take it there are cows on the island?” I pointed at my sandals. “And goats? And…” I hesitated, not wanting to sound like a looney tune. “Zebras?”

  “Could be.” Thad shrugged. “We’ve got cows, chickens, goats, and for some reason, lots of cats. I’m not sure who made the sandals. Lately we’ve been focused on making more clothes. We’re low. We use paper trees.”

  “Paper trees?”

  “I’m sure there’s some proper botanical name, but no one here knows it. We use the bark, for paper and cloth. It’s not the easiest thing you’ve ever done, so we take care of the clothes we have because it’s tough to make more. There are grass skirts, too, but those don’t last long.”

  “Grass skirts.” My voice was disbelieving. “Please don’t tell me there are coconut tops.”

  Thad laughed. “Only if you want to wear them.”

  “No thanks.” I was actually thinking, Hell, no, but my daddy was firmly against swearing, except in the most dire of circumstances, like when the Bulldog quarterback got sacked. On second thought, maybe a coconut top did merit a Hell, no. Too late now.

  Thad picked up the dirty clothes. “Let’s wash them while we’re here, eh?”

  I snatched them back. “I’ll do it.”

  “What, you think guys can’t do wash?” He did that eyebrow thing again.

  No, I’m embarrassed to have you touch my smelly clothes. Thad’s offer felt strangely intimate and more than a little awkward. But before I could protest again he’d already flicked the bandana out of my hand and was expertly scrubbing it in the water.

  Following his lead, I washed the shorts. Soon everything smelled like coconut-lime shower gel from Bath & Body Works.

  “Who makes the soap?” I asked.

  “Li. She’s crazy good with floral stuff. She’s from Beijing. She doesn’t speak much English, but we get the gist of it. Her sandsoap’s the best. I’m not sure if she already knew how to make it, or if she learned from Ramia, but no one makes soap like Li.”

  “Where’s Ramia?”

  “Gone.”

  Thad wrung out the cloth as he stood. I did the same, but when I got to my feet, the world swayed.

  He caught my elbow. “Don’t fall down on me again.”

  “I won’t.” I said, trying not to snap. I hated feeling weak, although I was. The pressure of Thad’s hand on my elbow competed with the pulse in my temple, then the wooziness passed. “I’m okay. Just stood up too fast.”

  The pressure on my elbow vanished.

  I changed the subject, determined to get myself under control. “Hey, you don’t happen to have a brush, do you?”

  “How about a comb?” He reached into his satchel and pulled out the most beautiful wooden comb I’d ever seen. Hand carved, it had thick tines, rubbed smooth.

  “Wow. I’ve never seen anything like it.” I ran my fingers over the silky wood.

  “Miguel’s handiwork. He’s the best carver in the City.”

  “Who else is in the City?” I sat on Thad’s rock and began wrestling with my hair. “And how many other cities are there?”

  “None. Just Nil City. The island’s not that big. And the number of people changes. Right now there’s me, Natalie, Rives, Jason, Li, Talla
, Raj, Heesham, Samuel…” Thad counted on his fingers as he spoke. “And you make twenty-one.”

  Taking a break, I rested my shaking hands in my lap, wondering exactly how hard I’d hit my head. I was tired.

  “Charley, no offense, but you look like you’re gonna collapse. If you want, I’ll finish combing your hair.” He stuck out his hand, gesturing for the comb.

  I stared at his outstretched hand, totally floored.

  I loved getting my hair brushed. More than getting my back scratched, more than getting a massage, more than anything, and I’d always dreamed about having a cute boy brush my hair.

  Thad had just served up my secret fantasy on an island platter.

  CHAPTER

  13

  THAD

  DAY 279, EARLY MORNING

  It was a serious WTF moment in my own head.

  I couldn’t believe I’d just offered to comb her hair. But she did look ready to take a header any second. Make that another header. She still had a nasty lump from yesterday. Her coloring had paled, or maybe that was because I’d just offered to comb her hair. Seriously, Thad, WTF?

  Charley’s eyes were glued to the comb, like she was weighing whether to say yes. Like she was wondering why the hell I’d asked.

  Maybe she thinks my post-Nil plan is to become a professional hairstylist.

  It took all I had not to laugh, but I didn’t want Charley to think I was laughing at her. My post-Nil plan involved boards and snow, sponsors and races, not a monotonous job that stuck me indoors doing the same dull crap, day in and day out, like crunching numbers or styling hair. But after nine months on Nil, my well-crafted plan felt more like a fading pipe dream. Blurry, and distant. And possibly already shot.

  I no longer felt like laughing.

  Charley looked up and smiled. God, she was beautiful. “Okay.” She handed me the comb. “Thanks.”

  I moved behind her, glad she couldn’t see my face. She didn’t say another word. I had no clue what she was thinking; she was impossible to read.

  This was a first for me, combing a girl’s hair. I really didn’t know why I’d offered, and as sure as the Canucks need a decent defenseman, nine months ago I never would have. But it felt … right. And after 278 days here, I didn’t have much to lose. Just a no.