Nil (24 page)

“What was Rives talking about?” I asked Thad.

“We lost the cow last night. Something broke down the pen. The hyena was finishing it this morning, but we think something else got it first.”

“Who had watch?”

“Sy.” Thad’s expression was frustrated. “But apparently he didn’t see a thing.”

“Interesting,” I said.

“Yeah.” He snorted. “I still wish we hadn’t lost the cow. The goats are missing, too, but they’ll come back.” He gave me a sideways grin. “But until they do, we’re back to coconut milk.”

“My favorite.” I grimaced.

Thad laughed. But his eyes stayed sharp.

We passed through familiar territory and beyond. By late morning, we’d made it to our destination: a black lava field, a different one than I remembered. This one looked aged. Drier, grayer, and with more fissures and cracks. Red gleamed to the north.

Plunking down our bags, we took a break. Today’s snacks were fresh, and our gourds full. From what Thad said, that wasn’t always the case, especially toward the end of Search. While Thad was stretching, I turned away, quietly working on my secret project.

“What’s that?” Thad asked, pointing to my hand.

“Paper I got from Jillian.” I made one final mark, then tucked it away.

“I see that,” Thad said dryly. “Are you writing me a love letter?”

“A poem, actually. Nothing like a little island pentameter.” Then I hesitated. “Okay, seriously, it’s a map. I’m pretty good with directions, and I’ve started mapping the island. You weren’t the only one who stayed busy when you were getting your head straight.”

“Cool.” He snuck my paper back out. “Looks good,” he said as he studied my sketch. I’d used charcoal sticks from the fire. More sticks were tucked deep in my satchel, carefully wrapped in leaves and twine.

“What are you using for a measure of scale?” he asked.

“My big ole feet. I mark off the distance as I walk.”

“They’re not big, they’re perfect,” Thad said absently. He pointed to a trio of tiny black circles. “What are these? Gates?”

“Yup. I’ve marked locations of both entry and exit gates in this radius.” I traced an arc with my finger. “Entries are solid; exits are open circles. And if it’s not on the map yet, it will be. I’ve got another piece of paper where I’m keeping track of entry and exit sites I haven’t mapped. Once I’ve mapped the entire island, then I can transfer over the gate info.”

Thad was still studying the map.

“I’m not so good at making soap,” I said. “So I thought I’d make maps. My contribution to Nil.”

Thad looked up, his eyes flush with blue hope. “It’s not a gift to Nil, it’s to us. To the City.”

He yelled before I could stop him. “Jason! Nat! C’mere! You gotta see this!”

“Stop,” I said, embarrassed. “It’s not much to look at, not yet.”

“You’re wrong,” Thad said quietly. “It’s hope.”

I explained my maps and charts to Jason and Natalie, who grew as excited as Thad.

“Okay, there’s one more thing,” I said. “I keep hearing y’all talk about hot spots. Like the Flower Field, Black Bay, the lava fields, and the meadow by the base of Mount Nil, where Thad landed. All of those are open areas, and I think that’s the connection. I’m not sure if more gates really roll through those spots, but I do think they’re easier to see.”

“And easier to catch,” Jason said, nodding.

“Right. But there may be actual hot spots, places where gates are statistically more likely to flash. Where
exit
gates are more likely to flash. And I’m hoping if we can put all the exit gates onto one map, maybe we’ll see—something. Something that’ll increase the odds of getting off Nil for everyone.”

“How far are you going back to get your gate info?” Natalie asked. “Won’t that skew the charts?”

“I don’t know. I’ve thought about that, about whether I should try to start from two weeks ago, or even a month. But I think we should just get all the information we can, from anyone and everyone. The most important being where people caught exit gates, or at least saw them, and for that, let’s go back as far as we can remember. See if there’s a pattern.”

Natalie nodded. “We need to go down the Wall and tell you where people we know caught gates.”

“Uh, I hate to break up this powwow,” Jason said, “but time’s up. If Nil’s sending a gate, she’s not gonna wait. Look.” He pointed to the sun. “We need to move.”

Thad was already on his feet. “Jason’s right. Let’s get away from the tree line, into the open.”

“Easy lookin’, easy runnin’.” Jason smiled.

“Easy for you to say,” Natalie said. But she was smiling, too.

We walked in a loose line. It was a weird feeling, watching and hoping, waiting for something that might never show. It was how I imagined a blind date would be, only this was way worse. Because if a blind date never showed, you could just walk away, no harm done. Here, if a gate never showed, sooner or later,
you
were done. I still wondered exactly what happened to you on your last day if you missed the gate. I prayed I’d never find out.

Not helping
, I told myself.
Not helping Natalie.
I pulled my mind back from the Dark Side and scanned the ground ahead, looking for any sign of a shimmer.

It was agonizing.

After an eternity of waiting, Jason spoke. “That’s it.” His voice dripped disappointment. “I was so sure it would flash here today.” He looked at Natalie. “Sorry, Nat. Bad idea. You shouldn’t have listened to me.”

“How do you know noon’s passed?” I asked.

“We just know,” Thad said, his jaw hard. “The sun, for one. A feeling, for two.” Natalie was nodding, but Jason looked upset—with himself.

“Jason,” I said hesitantly, “I don’t think you’re wrong. I think you’re early.”

Everyone turned to me. “I have a theory. I’ve been looking at my chart, where I’ve listed all the gates—the confirmed landing sites and exits, including gates people saw but didn’t catch. We know inbound ones come anytime, anywhere. There’s no pattern, and I think it’s because the pattern is determined on the outbound end—back home. But if you look just at the exit gates”—I pulled out my last paper, the one with a rough map and marked only with outbounds—“I think they roll north in a constant wave, hitting a different latitude each day, but always north of the last one until the entire island is crossed. I have no clue where the wave starts, or even if the starting place is always the same. But we know gates never appear in the same place two days in a row, and I think it’s because they follow a sequence, from south to north. So based on Samuel’s gate on White Beach ten days ago, which is north of us, we might not see a gate here for another day or two.” I shrugged. “It’s a total guess. But if you factor in the flash that Jason missed on the day I met y’all, and Sabine’s, and chart the other gates people have seen, well, it kind of fits.”

They were all staring at the map.

“Why didn’t we ever see this?” Thad sounded frustrated.

“Because we never tried to map the timing.” Natalie said. “We just knew they rolled north after they flashed.”

“Charley, this is amazing.” Thad stared at the map, the one with the charts.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” I said quickly. “Like I said, it’s just a theory, maybe more like a guess. And before we get too excited, there’re some gates that don’t fit; they flash out of order. Like the gate Jason saw by the rain forest, about the same time Samuel caught his on White Beach. From what everyone’s told me, the rain forest lies on a latitude south of White Beach, so either one was an aberration, or my theory is junk.”

“A rogue set,” Thad murmured.

“A what?” Natalie frowned.

“A set that breaks farther out from where all the other waves are breaking. It’s called a rogue set.”

“Maybe,” I said. “Or maybe I’m just forcing something that doesn’t fit.”

“It’s better than nothing,” Jason said. “Which is what we had. I say we try Charley’s theory and see if it helps.” He looked at me. “So where to?”

I was shocked that the three veterans looked at me like I had a clue. “Uh, I don’t know. I just think the next gate will be coming from that direction.” I pointed south. “So maybe here tomorrow, or the next day.”
Or maybe not at all
, I thought.

“So either we stay or walk north.” Natalie looked thoughtful. “We go though the red, to the next black.”

“No,” I said quickly, “not that far.” All three looked at me, and I shrugged. “Or maybe yes. I don’t know. I’m just guessing here.”

“Stay or go?” Jason asked.

“Stay.” Natalie’s voice. Natalie’s choice.

“Stay it is,” Jason said.

“Okay,” Thad said, “we’ve got twenty-four hours to explore. Let’s help Charley fill out her maps. We’ll walk north, toward the red field, pacing it off. Sound good?”

Plan in place, we worked our way across the black ground. With each step, I had flashbacks to my first day on the island. I wondered what happened to the zebra.

Jason took point, constantly scanning ahead. It occurred to me he was searching for gates—inbound ones, the kind that bring warm-blooded creatures, like us. I had flashes of Rory, falling out of the sky, red as a lobster, then Rory on the ground, red with blood.

I flinched. Beside me, Natalie sucked in her breath.

“Don’t look,” Thad said sharply.

Too late.

For the second time in two weeks, I saw a dead body sprawled on the ground. Only this one wore a handmade lei.

CHAPTER

33

THAD

DAY 291, AFTER NOON

“It’s Li,” Natalie whispered. “She didn’t make it.”

“She made me a lei once,” Jason said to no one in particular.

Charley’s face was pale, but she said nothing.

I was the only one not staring at Li.

“Okay,” I said, desperate to defuse the very bad karma of finding a body the first day of Search. “Let’s close our eyes and bow our heads.” For the first time, I wished Nat had chosen Johan as Spotter instead of Jason. Johan, with his rich words and humble prayers that flowed like water. But without Johan, Nat was stuck with me.

We joined hands in a tight circle. Bowing my head, I spoke quietly. “Heavenly Father, you know our needs before we do, and here on Nil we have many. Today we pray for Li. We ask that her soul rest in peace. And for her family back home, we ask You to give them peace. Be with Li, and be with us all, her family here in Nil. In Your name we pray, Amen.”

Whispers of “Amen” echoed around me.

“Okay,” I said, letting go of Jason’s hand, then Charley’s. “Now let’s bury her.”

“How?” Jason frowned. “This rock is tougher than asphalt.”

I looked at him. “I never said we’d dig.”

Ten minutes later, I carefully laid Li’s body on the bottom of a wide hollow in the rock, fully dressed. As valuable as her clothes were, I was not about to pull a Sy and strip a dead body. We covered her with rocks, making a black rock tomb. As the others stepped back, I pulled out my bag of bleached coral and crafted a cross, white on black.

“Rest in peace, Li,” I whispered.

Natalie made a strangled choking sound.

“Nat?” I asked, standing. “You okay?”

“I just remembered something,” she whispered, her eyes fixed on Li’s coral cross. “That creepy song Ramia sang on her last Nil Night.” Dropping into Ramia’s odd cadence, Nat said, “To Nil we come, from Nil some go, and some like me will stay. The clock winds down, our time runs out, and Nil will have her way.” Natalie lifted her haunted eyes to mine. “If you change ‘me’ to ‘Li,’ it fits.” She started to shake. “Why did I remember that now?”

Because Ramia knew
, I thought.
Somehow Ramia always knew
.

NO
. My brain balked at the thought.
Her predictions mean nothing
, I told myself.
Absolutely nothing.

Consumed by my mental sparring, I froze, and Charley stepped up before I could. She clasped Natalie’s hands and held them steady. “Natalie, it’s okay. You’ve got plenty of time. Weeks. Plus”—Charley’s voice was confident—“you’ve got us.”

Natalie held Charley’s hands so tight that Natalie’s knuckles turned white. Bloodless, like Li’s face.

And some like me will stay
.

“Natalie, look at me.” Charley’s voice turned fierce, strong enough to pull me back, too. “You’re not Li. You’re
Na-ta-lie
,” Charley’s drawl dragged out Nat’s name, “and we’re going to get you home. So please, don’t fall apart on us, okay?”

Natalie nodded. Taking a deep breath, she faced Li’s rock tomb. “Good-bye, friend,” she said. “Thank you for the beauty you brought into my life. I’ll never forget you. Rest in peace.”

“Where to?” I asked Natalie.

“Anywhere,” she said. Despite the sun, her teeth chattered.

I thought fast. “I know just the place.” I hitched up my pack, keeping my hands away from Charley, not wanting to touch her since I’d just touched death. “To the tubes.”

“To the tubes,” Jason echoed.

We walked in silence. The funeral hangover threatened to make me sick.

Another death on my watch.

It was a relief to spot the tubes. South of the Arches, a web of tunnels carved from old lava flows sat open to the sky. Glistening with fresh water and heated daily by the sun, the tubes were perpetually warm. Not as hot as the showers Charley dreamed of, but a marked change from the icy Cove.

Even better, South Beach lay on the other side. A wide black beach stretching down the western coast to the southern tip, someone before my time had slapped it with the generic name, and it stuck. Seeing the setup for tonight, I relaxed. Not totally, but enough. Enough to stay sane one more day, enough to hold the possibility of sleep. Camping near the sea beat crashing deep in the island any day. One less side to guard.

I turned to Charley. “You’ll like this. It’s Nil’s version of a warm bath.”

For the next few hours, the four of us lounged in the tubes, elbows out, faces to the sun, chilling like we were in a hot tub at a ski chalet—only this was Nil. And not for one minute did I forget. Judging by Nat’s face, neither did she. Death hung with us like a fifth wheel.