Nil Unlocked (3 page)

Sloppy
, I thought.
But helpful.

“What is it?” Jason asked. He’d followed me soundlessly. His innate stealth put the raiders’ clumsiness to shame.

I didn’t answer until I saw what I was looking for: a large brown net, abandoned in the field, its weight flattening a swath of purple. “Just recovering stolen goods. Sit tight.”

I tossed it over my shoulder, and as rocks pressed into my back, I smiled. Small rocks weighted the net’s bottom, added kilos that made the difference. The breeze rustled the flowers, whispering without words.

Sensing company, I stilled.

I turned around slowly, fully expecting to see the inked boy’s eyes on me. But when I surveyed the field, a lone zebra stared back. Head held high, the zebra stood motionless, ears pricked, its monochromatic stripes a sharp contrast to the brilliant colors of the field. Somehow I knew it was seconds away from being spooked—by us.

We
were the foe.

No one else was around.

I turned away. The zebra deserved peace, especially after today’s quake.

“How’d you know they dropped it?” Jason pointed to the net when I drew close.

“They didn’t drop it; they left it. Too heavy to carry with a numb foot. Or maybe they panicked when they lost feeling in their feet and ditched it to get away faster. Either way, we got one back.”

I pointed out the trampled deadleaf plant as we walked back. “Our savior.”

Jason laughed. “Nasty plants. I like ’em.” He paused. “Thad’s idea worked.”

I nodded, abruptly choked up.

When Dex saw us, he pointed to the net and grinned. “Pulled out a bit of island magic, did you, Rives?” He clapped me on the shoulder. “Well done, mate.”

I returned his grin. “Just a hunch that panned out.”

“Right,” he said, watching me shrug off the net. “Well, it was a bloody good one.” Dex gestured for the net and hefted it over his shoulder, and, with a comical salute, he stepped away. Then he turned back, swallowing hard. “One more thing. I didn’t carve for Thad, or Charley. I thought you should be the bloke to do it.”

The knot in my throat was back. “I’d be honored.” I turned to Jason, fighting to sound chill. “Why don’t you carve for Thad, and I’ll carve for Charley. Sound good?”

Jason broke into a broad smile, telling me I’d made the right call. “Sounds good.”

“Right, then.” Dex looked toward the island’s interior. “Well, I’m off.” But he didn’t move.

“Anything else, D?” I asked.

He cocked his head at me. “You didn’t spot any leopards out there, did you, Rives? Skulking about the island and such?”

Now I grinned easily. “No leopards, skulking or otherwise. But Nil is now home to a pair of lions and one very ugly hyena. Oh, and a black rhino. Not sure if he’s new, though.”

“Fantastic,” Dex said. “Bloody cats. I may have to change my stance on declawing. My mum was much opposed, but I’m reconsidering in the nature of survival.”

I thought of Bart, found with claw marks raked down his back, Nil karma at its best—or worst. “I hear you, bro. But better to just avoid all Nil kitties, especially the big ones.” I paused. “Anyway, good news. The grizzly’s gone.”

“Gone?” Jason asked. “Did the lions get him? Or did he take a gate?”

“Neither. The island ate him for lunch.”

“Well, that’s not creepy much.” Dex paled slightly. “Bears are Nil’s lunch? Then what are we?”

“Dinner?” Jason offered.

I laughed. “Entertainment. But at least that gives us a better chance to make it, right?”

“Absolutely,” Dex said with feeling. “And better here in the City than out there with the leopards.” For an instant, I saw a flash of the shell-shocked boy I’d met on his Day One. But when he leveled his clear eyes on me, he looked every inch my Second. “It’s bloody good to have you back, Rives.” With a quick nod, Dex strode off, gripping the net with both hands like a weapon.

Jason and I walked toward the Wall in silence.

The Wall was less a wall, more like rows of wooden planks running horizontally, tacked to vertical posts. Both sides were coated with names—first names only. Life on Nil simplified quickly; the Wall was hard proof of that. Beside each name sat a mark. A check, for those lucky enough to win a ticket home. A cross, for the unlucky ones doomed to rest on Nil forever, hopefully in peace. A few other names had marks known only to the owner. Other names begged for a mark, the spaces beside their names conspicuously empty. Some spaces belonged to people still here, like me. Other names had blank spaces long after their owners’ days ran out, their fate known only to the island and God himself.

I constantly wondered what became of those people. Maybe because I constantly wondered what would become of
me
.

Without discussion, we stopped in front of Thad’s name first. I pulled Thad’s blade from my waistband, flipped it around, and handed the knife to Jason, hilt out.

“It’s Thad’s. The one he used to carve his name.”

Jason nodded, and, gripping the knife, he bowed his head before he stepped up to the Wall. A slight move, a show of respect. Even though he was the youngest person on Nil, Jason intuitively understood the island; he always had. It’s why he was the best Spotter I’d ever seen, and it’s why I’d bet money Jason would catch a gate when it was his time.

Time.

It defined our days and haunted our nights; we were all on the clock. It was one of Nil’s rules.

Rules we lived by.

Rules we died by.

Rules we didn’t make, rules we were still fighting to figure out. But there were two island rules as unyielding as Nil rock.

First, there’s only one way off the island: a gate. Grab one and you’re gone—but there’s a catch. The moment you open your eyes on Nil, your personal hourglass tips. You’ve got exactly 365 days to escape, or you’re done. Six feet under or lost, but either way, it shook out the same: If you didn’t catch an outbound gate by the end of your year, you were toast.

And that was rule number two. Nil gives you one year, with zero chance of overtime. Nobody got an extra grain of Nil sand in their hourglass.

It was a deadline written in blood.

Jason finished carving Thad’s check, then pointed the blade at the top of the Wall, where
NIL
was carved in block letters.

“Thank you,” he said quietly, blade aimed at the
I
. “For letting him go.”

He offered me the knife, the same way I’d offered it to him. Striding to my right, I touched Charley’s name, remembering the girl who fought so hard to give us all a better shot at making it home.

“Way to go, girl,” I said quietly. “When you find your boy on the other side, you tell him I said he’s a dumbass. Shoot, knowing you, C, you’ll probably tell him yourself.” I smiled, thinking of the piece of her mind Charley would give Thad when he showed up.

Not if.

When.

“And when I get back,” I whispered, “I’m going to tell him, too.” I kissed my fingers and pressed them against her name in good-bye, knowing Charley and Thad would find each other on the other side.
Believing
it, because I had to. To lose hope was a death sentence, and I refused.

But Thad had scared the crap out of me today with his white knight move, and for one tortured moment, my faith had wavered.

Focus on the good, live in the moment.

Thad’s words, a flashback perfectly timed. A stark reminder that if I wanted to live to see tomorrow, I’d better live in the
now.
I’d better get my head straight.

I focused on Charley’s check, a mark of victory, fully aware that the last two Wall marks I’d carved had been crosses. One for Li, the first person I’d met in the City. And one for Talla, the last person I’d buried.

The less time I spent at the Wall, the better.

I’d just turned around when Jillian threw her arms around me. She shook like a quake.

“Jills, you okay?” I gently lifted her chin so I could see her face. Half-dried tears stained her cheeks. A twine piece holding her hair had slipped, making one auburn braid unravel. Today Jillian looked younger than sixteen. She also looked conflicted and worried. The rest of her expression I couldn’t read, and that worried
me.
“What happened?”

“Nothing. I’m okay.” She nodded. “I am.” She smiled, as if convincing herself. “It’s just—everything, I think. On the way back from the Shack—which is fine, by the way, nothing missing, nothing damaged—I started thinking about Thad and Charley and it’s so awesome, but then I thought—what if Rives had caught the third gate? I heard you tell Dex it was a triple. And if you’d caught a gate, it would’ve been awesome, too, but we’d be totally clueless.”

“Clueless about…?” I frowned.

“About
everything
. We wouldn’t know whether Thad made it, and we wouldn’t know what had happened to Charley or
you.
All three of you would have blank spots on the Wall, and we’d never know if we should be celebrating or mourning or searching for you because you needed help, because there would be no one to tell us.” She pressed her cheek against my chest. “Then I felt guilty for being glad you’re still here.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “You’re my best friend here, Rives. I really want you to make it. But I’m glad it wasn’t today.”

She looked up at me, her eyes wet again. “Does that make me a bad person?”

“No,” I said, pushing her bangs from her eyes. “It makes you human.”

We stood unmoving, Jillian’s head on my shoulder.

We wouldn’t know. Blank spots on the Wall.

Jillian had a point. The unknown was the worst part of Nil. Today, the island had saved the lives of two people and saved the sanity of many more.

Maybe Nil wasn’t evil after all.

“I still miss her.” Jillian’s soft words made me stiffen. “I know you do, too.”

I knew Jillian was talking about Talla, Jillian’s other best friend on the island. Talla, whose grave lay near the Flower Field. Talla, whose presence I felt near the water. Talla, the first girl who saw through me.

Who saw
me
.

If she had lived, would we be together now?

I didn’t know. I’d never know.

I thought of the one night I’d spent with Talla, the one before she’d gone on Search. The night she’d slept in my arms—actually slept, her first full night’s sleep since she’d landed. As fierce as Talla was, she’d had her demons, the worst of which was chronic insomnia. On Nil, exhaustion made you vulnerable. And Talla hated feeling vulnerable. It was why she’d pushed herself physically, she’d confided, because she was sure that if she pushed her body to the limits, eventually it would have to cave and rest. Talla was determined to beat even herself.

But the island won. First it broke her body, then her spirit.

I would not let Nil break me.

Maybe the island wasn’t evil, but it certainly could be cruel. Then again, cruelty and evil weren’t confined to Nil. Neither were love and loss; it was just that Nil’s hourglass distilled love, life, and loss into a heightened version of the same.

Today’s emotional roller coaster was a ride I hadn’t bargained for, but in hindsight, I should’ve seen it coming, at least with Thad.

Like I said, slow learner.

Jillian pulled away. “I’m so glad they made it. I couldn’t have taken another funeral today.”

“
Another
funeral?” My blood ran Cove cold.

Jillian’s eyes watered as she nodded. “Zeus. You know, the cocker spaniel? He limped into the City yesterday. He’d gotten into a fight. I knew he wouldn’t make it; I could just tell. Ahmad and I buried him this morning. And then I found a baby bird on the way back from burying Zeus. It had fallen out of a tree. It was already dead. It was so small, Rives, it fit in my palm. I couldn’t just leave it there.” Jillian lifted her chin, then sighed again. “So I buried it where I found it underneath the tree. I know they weren’t people, but still. If Thad hadn’t made it—” She broke off, clearly fighting back tears. “I can’t even. Zeus was bad enough. And the bird.” She rolled her eyes. “I know you think I’m crazy.”

“No,” I said softly. “I think you’re kind. And I think you did the right thing.” On Nil, death rivaled life for attention, and the way we treated the dead said more about us than the deceased. With animals, usually we ate them. But sometimes our humanity was more important than a meal. And we sure as hell didn’t eat puppies.

I was also thinking we shouldn’t have named the dog Zeus.

“Thanks.” Jillian nodded. She bit her lip. “Have you seen Burton lately?”

“Nope. Maybe he hitched a ride home.” I smiled.

“Maybe,” Jillian said. Only she didn’t smile.

Burton was a Nil cat Thad had adopted, much like Jillian had been taken with Zeus. Thad had asked me to keep an eye out for Burton, but I hadn’t seen the black cat since Thad left. Not a good sign for Burton.

“So tomorrow night’s a Nil Night, right?” Jillian said.

I hesitated.

“Rives, we need this.” Her voice was quiet. “Everyone needs this.”

I thought of the relief on Jason’s face when I announced Thad’s fate, and the sleepless bruises under his eyes. I thought of the weight on Dex’s shoulders that had nothing to do with the net. And I thought of the girl standing silently near Dex, her face unreadable.

“You’re right,” I said, unwilling to bring my baggage to the party. Nil Nights
were
a party, a short-lived distraction from Nil’s rules. With today’s double departure, a Nil Night was definitely in order. “Tomorrow night,” I agreed. “We all need a decent night’s sleep.”

“Rives!” Ahmad’s deep voice boomed behind me. “There’s something you need to see! You busy?”

“On my way,” I called, already moving toward him.

Jillian fell in step beside me. “Does he even need to ask?”

“I hear that,” Jason said, jogging to catch up. “With an intro like that, it’s got to be good.”

“You know it.” But it wasn’t Ahmad’s words that had me stoked; it was his tone: pumped, with absolutely no trace of fear.

Nil had shifted, again.

Time to see how the island wanted to play.