Nil (7 page)

“Definitely. Listen, what’s the deal with Bart?” I asked. The sooner I could settle it, the sooner I could get back to Charley. “Nat said you guys got into it about watch?”

Rives nodded, looking pissed, which was rare. “Last night I couldn’t sleep, so I came outside. Bart was sacked out by the fire. I’m talking full-on REM. All but two torches were out. I woke him up, told him to get his butt in bed, that I’d finish watch myself. Told him I’d talk to him after I cooled down. So this morning we had a little come-to-Jesus meeting. I told him he was off watch duty. That for someone so eager to get out on Search, he was doing a piss-poor job of showing he was worth taking. I mean, would you want Bart as your support? When he sleeps on watch?” Rives shook his head, disgusted. “Especially when, for all we know, the tiger’s still out there, prowling around. And by now that kitty’s hungry.”

Rives shrugged, his anger waning. He never stayed pissed for long. “Anyway, that’s how we left it. He’s still whining. I’m just over it. But, listen.” Now Rives looked uncomfortable. “There’s something else. And it happened last night, on Bart’s watch.”

CHAPTER

12

CHARLEY

DAY 13, DAWN

I opened my eyes, and for one terrifying minute, I had absolutely no clue where I was.

Then yesterday rushed back. The encounter with Thad … me falling. Glimpses of Thad and a girl with strawberry-blond hair intermingled with pain and thirst, all locked in a fog of exhaustion. Snippets of Em’s sweet voice wove through my memories, coupled with the taste of fruity Sprite and liquid grass. Apparently I’d hit my head harder than I thought.

I sat up gingerly. My head felt sore, but I’d expected worse. I lay on a bed made of who-knows-what, covered by a thin sheet in a small house with open sides. Half walls of black rock supported wood framing, topped with a thatched roof. Air brushed my cheek, cool and salty. It smelled like morning.

To my left was another bed, where a girl with strawberry-blond hair was curled under a speckled blanket, sleeping. Her eyes were closed, and her hands were tucked under her cheek. She looked fragile and, if possible, more tired than me.

The only other furniture was a primitive chair and a small table. Resting on top was a gourd and a half of a coconut, which I realized was a cup. Suddenly my mouth felt drier than a box of cotton balls, and I forgot about the ache in my head.
Please be water. Please be full.

Lifting the gourd, my hands trembled. I tipped the gourd toward the coconut-shell cup, thrilled to see water pour out. Crisp and fruity, it was nearly as refreshing as Sprite.

After drinking my fill, I slipped outside.

I stood at the edge of a ring of open thatched huts. A massive firepit sat center stage, its embers smoldering. Several lit torches surrounded the fire. The ocean wasn’t far; I could hear the waves. The sky was a hazy greenish blue, the color that seeps through the night just before the sun burns the darkness away. The air was cool, slightly breezy, and silent, reminding me of every breaking dawn for the last twelve days.

But for the first time, I wasn’t alone.

Past the last hut stood a boy, his back to me. He faced a massive wooden sign made of long boards stretching between tall posts and bearing rows of carvings. The boy was tracing the carvings with one hand. The confident slant of his broad shoulders was familiar; so was the golden hair touching his shoulders. His bare back formed a perfect V. At the same moment I recognized the boy as Thad, he turned around.

Seeing me, he smiled and walked toward me. I just stood there gawking, not speaking. It was like I’d had too many shocks and could no longer regroup, especially not this early. Thad didn’t say anything either, which seemed kind of weird. He just kept walking, his eyes on mine.

“Morning, Charley,” he whispered. He was so close now that I could touch him, not that I did, and suddenly I understood his silence had been in consideration for everyone sleeping in the open rock houses. “How’s your head?”

“It feels like I hit it with a rock.” My soft tone matched his.

He smiled. “More like a small boulder.”

“I’ll have to take your word for it,” I whispered, returning his grin. “I don’t remember.”

Thad’s grin faltered. “Yeah. I figured. I’m sorry I wasn’t there when you woke up.”

A flash of Thad sitting beside me filled my head. “Did you sit with me last night?”

He nodded. “Natalie and I took turns checking on you.”

“Natalie?” I frowned. “Was that the girl in the other bed?”

“Yeah. She doctored you up last night.” He paused. “Hey, do you want to take a bath?”

“With you?” I blurted, shocked.

He fought a laugh. “No, not with me, although I think I should come along to make sure you don’t pass out again and drown.”

I couldn’t tell if he was serious. I’d never been good at gauging sarcasm.

“Natalie thought when you woke up you’d like to take a bath. And now you’re awake. So…” Thad grinned. “Bath?”

Did I stink?
It was too horrible to think about, especially since Thad looked like he was ready for an island photo shoot. Even without a mirror, I knew I looked scary dirty.

“Okay, but I didn’t pack any soap,” I whispered.

“Got it covered. As long as you don’t mind smelling like a coconut. We’re out of guava.”

Again, I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me.

“Gee, I really was hoping for guava,” I said. “Or at least kiwi.”

“Kiwis don’t grow on the island, at least not that I’ve seen. Hang on. Be right back.”

Where would I go?
I wondered, watching Thad duck into the hut beside mine.
What island?

Thad reappeared. Now he carried a brown satchel, its strap slung across his chest, making his shoulders look even broader.

Ignoring his shoulders, I asked, “Thad, where am I?”

“The City,” he said. “We’re still on the eastern shore of the island, the dry side. If you’ve noticed, it never rains here, but the west gets tons of rain. There’s literally a rain forest over there. There’s also a volcano—”

“Thad, stop.” My voice was sharp. “I mean what island.”

“Nil,” he said flatly. “You’re on the island of Nil.”

“Nil?” I asked, combing my memory. I’d paid attention in social studies. Not to mention I had a weird fascination with maps. One entire wall of my room was covered with a giant world map. I’d studied it for hours, dreaming of all the places I’d like to go. Distant countries, famous cities, remote islands. None were named Nil. “I’ve never heard of it,” I said.

“Neither had I until I got here.”

“But where is
here
? What is this place?”

Thad ran his hand through his hair. “To be honest, I don’t know. It just is.”

It just is.

A chilling scene burst behind my eyes: my broken body lying on the pavement, my head cracked and bleeding, the Target bull’s-eye sparkling in the distance as a handful of EMTs stared down at me, shaking their heads.

“Am I dead?” My voice was strangely calm. “Or am I dreaming? Is any of this real?”

“You’re not dead, Charley,” Thad said quietly. “And it’s definitely no dream.” Then he smiled, his tone forcibly lighter as he pointed to my feet. “How are those sandals working out?”

Thrown by his random question, I answered automatically. “Fine.”

“Really? Because they look too big.”

“They’re a little big,” I admitted. “But it’s better than nothing. That red rock was awful.”

“Sharp, eh?” Thad nodded. “C’mon, let’s get you some sandals that fit.” He motioned for me to follow. As we walked, Thad barely made a sound. He had an athlete’s grace—strong, fluid, and confident.

Thad disappeared inside a small rock hut at the edge of the camp. A minute passed, then Thad popped his head back out. “Are you coming?” He looked amused. “I don’t bite.”

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.”