Nil (14 page)

“May I?” he asked. For the first time, he looked uncertain.

I could only nod.

Thad moved closer. Inches away, he smelled like coconut and something fruity. With a movement so gentle it was almost a caress, Thad slipped the flower necklace over my head. “It’s a tradition that a veteran welcomes each rookie. Charley from Georgia, consider this an official welcome to Nil City.” His blue eyes were playful. “Last time I said that, you were unconscious.”

My skin registered the cool touch of flowers as I tried to sift through yesterday’s fog, again. Thad lifted my hair to settle the lei on my shoulders and the sensation pulled me back to the present.

“I hope you’ll stay.” Thad murmured, then he blinked heavily, like he’d said something wrong. “In the City, that is. Not go off hunting gates alone.” His eyes locked on mine.

“A solo island quest sounds like a really bad idea,” I said truthfully. “Lions and tigers and zebras, remember?”
And no you
.

Thad grinned. “Do you want to make it official? Carve a little graffiti, Nil style?”

I had no idea what he was talking about.

“The Naming Wall. Follow me.” Taking my hand, he led me out of the A-frame.

I loved the feeling of Thad’s hand wrapped around mine. I half expected to wake up, remembering the strangest dream about a hunky island guide, tailor-made just for me. Combing my hair, holding my hand—it was all as unreal as the freaky Friday trip that landed me here in the first place. The sweetness of this moment scared me, just a little. Or maybe a lot. I was in too deep to tell.

Thad stopped. Turning to look at me, he said, “I forgot to tell you. You look gorgeous.” His voice caught. “More beautiful than anything else on Nil.”

“How’s your vision?” I asked. I was awful with compliments, especially when they seemed impossible.

He laughed. “Perfect.” Pulling my hand, he said, “C’mon.”

The fire ring simmered on low. No one was around. Torches were lit, and laughter and music drifted from the beach, but up here, it was just me and Thad, wrapped in night air.

When we reached the Wall, Thad let go, leaving my hand extraordinarily empty.

He pulled out his pineapple slicer, and with slow, deliberate strokes, Thad carved the first five letters of my name. Then he paused. “Tell me how to finish …
i-e
or
e-y
?”

“
E-y
,” I answered.

He chuckled. “So right.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Thad finished etching the
y
and blew on my name. Without turning, he said, “Because for your name to end in a
lie
doesn’t fit. You’re the most real girl I’ve ever met, on or off Nil.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

Thad’s fingers brushed the wood, sweeping away the last shavings from my name. Seven letters, etched forever, then a space. I knew that whether I wanted it filled or not, in 352 days, my spot would no longer be blank. Two names above me, a fresh check followed Sabine. Other spots were blank, like mine. But it was the crosses that gave me chills. Scattered across the Wall, they reminded me of the random crosses I saw when I was driving—the ones hammered into the ground marking a roadside death. Simple, and haunting.

The empty space beside Thad’s name was bracketed by two crosses, each beside a name I didn’t recognize.

“Does a cross mean what I think it means?” I asked, staring at the pair of crosses. “That those people didn’t make it?”

“Yup.” Thad said. He turned to me, his eyes pleading. “But let’s not think about that right now. Not tonight. Please?”

“Not tonight,” I whispered, feeling the weight of the lie as it passed my lips. Because I couldn’t promise not to think about those twin crosses near Thad, advancing like they wanted to swallow him, too.
Eighty-six days
.

I forced myself to focus on the “right now” part: right now Thad was right here.

“Thanks,” I said.

“For what?”

“For carving my name. And for this.” I touched my lei, careful not to crush the flowers.

“You’re welcome, Charley with an
e-y
.” Thad’s voice was husky. He grinned, and my mouth went dry. “Ready for a Nil Night?”

“Ready,” I managed.

“Lead on,” he said, gesturing for me to go first.

The beach gathering reminded me of an old-fashioned luau. I’d been to one at the Polynesian resort in Disney World, which was as artificial a luau as you can get. But this one felt like the real deal. There was a pit in the sand, lined with coals and an honest-to-goodness pig. There was a bonfire surrounded by black rock. Fish and crabs steamed over the fire, and yams baked near the crabs. Julio had concocted more sweet bread; it sat beside bowls of pineapple and mango on a makeshift table.

Girls wore flower leis or blossoms in their hair, or both. Others wore necklaces made of shells, nuts, or things I couldn’t identify. Same for the boys. Some necklaces matched; more often they didn’t.

And there was music. An Asian boy played reed pipes. Samuel, the dark-haired boy with a massive shark-tooth necklace blacker than his skin rocked a set of drums that look worn and weathered. A freckled girl with two long braids—
Jillian
, I recalled—sat beside him, singing and playing a primitive guitar.

Rory, the angry boy who’d fallen out of the gate dropping f-bombs, stood apart from the group. He leaned against a tree, arms crossed, watching. Even in the dark he looked sunburned and wary.

Natalie handed me a coconut cup, then gave one to Thad. “Drinks on me,” she said, smiling.

“Thanks.” I took a sip and found the same fruity water I’d had yesterday. “Yummy.”

A boy came over and draped his arm across Natalie’s shoulders. As tall as Thad, with skin like my favorite latte and bleached-out dreads, I placed him immediately: he was the athletic boy I’d first seen running on the beach, the same boy who’d led Rory away. But for the life of me, I couldn’t remember his name.

“Hello, Charley.” He grinned. His eyes were strikingly light. “I haven’t had the pleasure. I’m Rives. Rhymes with ‘leaves,’ but it’s R-i-v-e-s on the Wall, in case you’re looking.” He winked. Rives’s smile was infectious; it put me at ease. So did the fact that Natalie didn’t throw off his arm.

“Nice to meet you, Rives-who-rhymes-with-leaves,” I said, smiling back.

“Even if it is under these circumstances.” Rives’s grin widened.

Natalie leaned into Rives, which made her look even smaller. “Charley, stay away from this boy. He’s trouble with a capital
T
.”

Rives feigned outrage. “What? Nat, you’re my girl. Where’s the love?” He wrapped his arms around her, giving her a squeeze.

Natalie laughed. “You know I love you, twin. But I’ve got to protect Charley.”

“Nat’s right,” Thad said, “watch out for Rives.” But like Natalie, Thad was smiling.

“Gotcha,” I said. “I’ll add him to my list of Nil dangers.”

Rives hooted. “Flattery will get you everywhere.” He planted a kiss on Natalie’s cheek, then let her go. “Later, twin.” Grinning like the devil, he said, “See ya, Charley. Thad.”

“Later, man,” Thad said.

“For twins, y’all don’t look a thing alike,” I told Natalie as Rives walked away.

“You don’t think so?” Then she burst out laughing. “We share the same birthday. A weird Nil-incidence.” She shrugged, then sipped her water. I wondered how long Rives had been here.
Long enough to be chummy with Natalie
, I thought. And Thad.

Beside me, Thad whistled, making everyone turn.

“Grab a cup, everybody.” He waited for everyone to get situated. “First, to Kevin, who made it. Here’s to you, brother.” Thad raised his cup as shouts of “to Kevin” and random woots cut the night. “And to Sabine, who gave us heaps to be thankful for while she was here, stuff that’ll still help even though she’s gone. And even better, she’s not just gone, she caught a gate.” He raised his cup. “To Sabine.” Sabine’s name drifted through the night as cups filled the air.

“And to Charley, and Rory, welcome. We’re glad you’re here, even though we’re sorry you’re here.” He raised his cup to me and smiled. “Cheers.”

The crowd fell away; it was just us, inches apart, and the warmth I felt had nothing to do with the fire.

Thad took a sip, then as he turned back to the group, his smile vanished. “As some of you’ve heard, the Shack was trashed again last night. Nothing was taken, just messed up. But we can’t afford to lose supplies, so for now, we’ve set up watch on the Shack.”

Reading between the lines, Thad’s words held a warning.
If it’s one of us, we’re gonna catch you
. For the first time, it occurred to me that perhaps not everyone was thrilled with the City.

Thad kept talking. “Three Search teams will roll out at dawn. Li’s got Cassie as Spotter, Quan and Raj as support. Samuel chose Maria as Spotter, Heesham as support. And Nat’s heading out, with Jason as Spotter…” This last announcement triggered loud hoots and
yeah
s, drowning out Thad’s words. Natalie looked almost happy. I hoped Jason was a good Spotter.

“So that’s it. Focus on the good, live in the moment. To now.” Thad raised his cup. Cups filled the air, and the chorus of “to now” was deafening.

“Ready?” he asked, turning back to me.

CHAPTER

19

THAD

DAY 279, DUSK

Charley looked better than ever.

With rest and a few decent meals, her coloring had improved, and when she smiled, her golden eyes sucked me in, like a potent Nil swell. Even better, there was never a lull as we talked, and we clicked in too many ways to count. Charley made me feel real again, and she made me
feel
.

It was a sick Nil joke.

Of course I’d meet the perfect girl here. Here where I had no future, where I only had a now. Here where hoping too much hurt like hell, so I’d tried not to hope at all.

“Thad?” Charley asked.

“Yeah?” I shook off my mental slush.

She was looking at the beach. Groups were scattered like shells. Laughing, talking, eating, being together. Just another cookout at the beach—and yet it wasn’t. I wondered if Charley saw that, too. Had she figured out that Nil Nights were our way to blow off steam, to release some pressure before we imploded for good? Because even with a daily dose of sports, the reality was exhausting. Each day was a sprint. We chased food and hunted gates, staying one step ahead of hunger and every fresh Nil threat. Running toward freedom and away from Nil, gunning to survive this day, because the next one might bring the gate with your name on it.

Or not.

Charley’s thoughts did not track mine.

“The thing with the Shack,” she said, turning toward me. “So it’s an inside job?”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did I say it was an inside job?”

“You didn’t have to. I assumed that since nothing was taken, someone’s trying to cause trouble, or maybe it’s just an animal. But either way you want to find out, right?”

Charley was incredibly perceptive.

“You got it,” I said.

She nodded, still looking thoughtful. “So are you in charge?” she asked. “I mean, is that your job? You’re the one who talked tonight, and everyone comes to you with questions.”

“For now. It’s a hand vote thing. Before me, Natalie was Leader; before Natalie, it was Omar, and so on. It’s just someone to help settle differences and to coordinate teams.”

“Why did Natalie quit?”

“She got Priority.”
And once you have Priority, that’s all you do. Search. Pray. And run like hell.

“Priority?” Charley frowned.

“You get Priority at sixty days out. Then you’re off job detail. You’ve paid your dues, so all you do is Search, with full City support. People with Priority pick their teams first.”

“I thought you picked the teams.” She sounded frustrated.

“Nope. The Search Leader does, which may be a person with Priority, but not always.” One look at her face told me I was talking in circles.

“Okay, let me lay out the whole Search team deal. When a person goes on Search, they pick who they want to take. Jason’s the best Spotter, so he gets picked almost every time. Timing gates is tricky. Jason’s got a natural instinct for how gates roll, the speed, stuff like that. Plus, he’s the youngest kid here, and people want him to make it. That’s the other reason he gets picked, to give him a solid shot when it’s his turn.”

“And Spotters are the eyes, right?”

“Yup. Gates always roll north, never east–west. But you need all the eyes you can get to spot a gate rising and track its roll. Every second counts. And like I said, the rest of the team is backup. Like sherpas.”

Charley digested this information. “Do the gates appear in one spot more than others? I mean, is there a go-to spot to catch one?”

“Nope. Nil doesn’t make it that easy. There’re a few hot spots right now, but gates jump around. It’s like trying to catch lightning.”

“That stinks. It’d be good if we knew where gates were more likely to hit. If there’s a pattern.”

“Yeah, a schedule of outbounds would be great. We’re still waiting on Nil to deliver one.”

Charley smirked. “I’m serious.”

“So am I. If anyone’s ever figured out how to increase the odds of getting off this rock, they took the secret with them when they left.”
And it doesn’t help us now, and now is all that matters
.

“There’s something I don’t get. Y’all didn’t know if Kevin made it or not. If Jason’s the best Spotter, why wasn’t he with Kevin when Kevin caught a gate?”

“Because Kevin was down to his last forty-eight hours. He wouldn’t let anyone go with him, especially Natalie. He said he had to make it alone, and if he didn’t, he wanted her to remember him alive. His words.”

Charley was quiet, no doubt pondering Kevin’s choice.
Good luck
, I thought. I still didn’t understand why Kevin went renegade. In the end it worked out, but it seemed to me that Kevin caught a gate despite his choice, not because of it. Ditching his team made no sense. It was like cutting off your hand because your fingers hurt. And Nat still went through hell.