Nil (11 page)

“I’m not.” Her voice was fierce. “He made it.”

I meant I’m sorry you miss him.
But feeling awkward, I let the subject drop.

“So how long have you been here?” I asked.

“Too long.” Natalie traced the edge of her coconut cup with one finger. “So long that home seems like another life.”

Sabine came back, a welcome diversion.

“Sorry,” she said. “Got caught up with Sham. He found a plant I’ve been looking for.” Sabine babbled on about plants and herbs, most of which I missed; her accent was entrancing. So was her grin.

“Sabine’s the one who found the deadleaf,” Natalie offered, smiling. “If you crush the leaves, it makes a numbing salve, which is a huge help. The fruit’s poisonous, but Sabine uses the seeds to brew a tea that works like a sleeping potion after it ferments. It’s what knocked you out last night, when you were hurting after you started to wake up. It’s the closest thing to Tylenol PM that we’ve got.” A wistful look passed over her face. “Would’ve been nice for Kev to have had some when he broke his arm. But at least now he’s home, in the land of Motrin and orthopedic surgeons. Sometimes I think that’s the best thing I’ve ever done here. Setting his arm, making sure he didn’t lose it. He wants to be a surgeon. Anyway”—she took a deep breath—“let’s take a look at your head.” Natalie talked
fast
; I had to work to keep up.

Natalie’s fingers danced across my scalp. “Looks good. Just don’t mess with it, okay?”

“Okay.” As if I wanted to touch blood. Dried, fresh, mine, someone else’s, it didn’t matter. Blood gave me the willies, in any form. No island medicine for me.

Soon the breakfast area cleared, of food and of people. Again I felt grateful to Natalie, a stranger who took care of me last night and kept me company today. But I couldn’t help noticing that my island guide was still missing.

Sabine stood. “Let’s go see how things are shaping up for tonight.”

“Tonight?” I asked, feeling lost, again.

“Tonight’s a Nil Night,” Natalie said, smiling impishly. “We have one to celebrate whenever someone makes it home. Like Kevin.” She positively beamed. “And to welcome newcomers—like you.” Seeing my face, she laughed. “Don’t worry. It’s no big deal.”

Big deal or not, I hoped the spotlight stayed on Kevin rather than me. As the newest contestant, I felt conspicuous enough.

As we cut through the trees, the unmistakable smell of roasting meat filled the air. “Someone’s smoking something,” I said, taking a deep breath. Even though I’d just eaten, my mouth watered like I’d just walked by a pregame tailgate at UGA.

Sabine made a face. “It’s the hog. Don’t worry, Charley, you don’t have to eat it.”

“Have to? I
want
to. I haven’t smelled anything this good in weeks.”

Natalie laughed. “Sabine’s a vegan, Charley. No meat.”

“I take it you’re not?” Sabine asked, crinkling her nose. But she was smiling.

“Nope. I’m a Southerner. Barbecue is its own food group for us.”

The trees fell away, dumping us on the beach. White sand shifted under my sandals, finer than the black sand I’d been walking on for the past two weeks. But the sand was nothing compared with the scene before me.

The sun sparkled, rising into a cloudless sky. The ocean lay ahead, stretching until it met the horizon, blue kissing blue. Close to shore, the waves broke and retreated. But for the first time since I’d set foot on Nil, the beach was full of people and activity. A firepit wafted lazy smoke into the air. Around the fire, kids laughed and talked. Two shirtless boys were playing catch with a coconut, throwing it like a football, their shoulders and backs rippling under a sheen of sweat. The girl built like a Playboy bunny was sprinting down the beach beside a tall boy with dreadlocks, like an advertisement for island athletic wear. Other kids floated on surfboards past the whitewater. It looked like an island retreat, like the perfect Hawaiian vacation spot.

Something twanged, like when a violist strikes a sour note.

“Natalie,” I said, turning, “where are the adults? The little kids?”

CHAPTER

15

THAD

DAY 279, MID-MORNING

I hated to leave Charley, but the look on Miguel’s face left me no choice.

“What’s up?” I asked. Miguel was usually chill. My-English-is-choppy-so-I’m-just-gonna-listen chill, but still chill. Right now his face was anything but chill. He looked seriously disturbed. “Is it about the Shack?”

“No.” Miguel kept his voice low. “Elia’s team. They bring something back. Something you need to see.”

Something bad
. Miguel’s face said it all. My stomach felt like I’d swallowed rocks.

“Behind the Shack,” he said. “Come.”

Sy and Johan lounged on a flat rock at the City’s edge. Johan’s hair was so filthy it looked more brown than blond, and both boys’ skin was streaked with dirt. They were Search-dirty and then some. Elia was nowhere in sight.

“Welcome back,” I said.

Sy stood. “Thad, check this out.”

He walked over, handling a piece of cloth as if it held delicate crystal. Beside me Miguel crossed himself and whispered in rapid-fire Spanish. Johan looked ready to throw up.

As Sy slowly peeled back one corner, I’d have sworn Nil giggled. Inside the cloth was a bracelet, an ivory-colored cuff, about two inches wide and perfectly smooth.

I knew that cuff.

It’d taken the owner months to craft it—to smooth it using a fine mixture of sand and salt. I remember sitting beside her, watching her rub the cuff. I’d thought it was creepy then. Hollow and empty, it was beyond creepy now.

“What is it?” Bart’s voice came over my shoulder. I’d forgotten he’d followed us.

“A bracelet,” I answered, irritated. Then I looked at Sy. “Where’d you find it?”

“Near the groves.” He swallowed. “Whoever she was, she didn’t make it. I, uh, had to take it off her wrist. Or what was left of her wrist.” Sy looked ashamed.

“I told him to leave it.” Speaking for the first time, Johan’s words were like nails. “That to bring it back was bad karma, but he insisted.” Johan shot a dark look at Sy, who visibly withered. “He doesn’t get it.” Johan’s troubled face matched Miguel’s. “We buried the body, and we should have buried the bracelet with it.”

No argument there
.

“Look, I thought we should bring it back,” Sy said. “So you or someone else could ID her. I didn’t think just telling you about it would be enough to make a positive ID. She deserves a cross, man. On the Wall.”

I couldn’t argue with that either.

“But to disturb someone’s final resting place—” Johan broke off. He shook his head and crossed himself.

“I don’t see what the big deal is,” Bart offered.

“Thank you,” Sy said, emphasizing each word.

Johan exhaled heavily and leveled his eyes on Sy. His voice was a mix of frustration and pity. “The deal is,” he said softly, “we didn’t see a single gate after you took the bracelet. Not one.”

Sy stiffened. “It’s not like a gate’s guaranteed to flash. It’s all chance anyway. Pure luck.”

“Bad luck,” Johan shot back. “Which you brought upon us. You should have left it.”

“No,” Sy said. “I did the right thing. She deserves a cross.”

The argument felt stale, getting nowhere but here.

“Enough,” I snapped. “What’s done is done.” Rattled, I couldn’t stop staring at the cuff.

“What’s it made of?” Bart asked, his voice curious. Unsuspecting.

“Bone.”

Sy dropped the cuff like it was on fire.

I lurched forward. The brittle bone fell toward the charcoal rock, and just before the cuff hit and shattered, I caught it.

Johan was beside himself. “Holy Mary, Mother of God! Sy, are you
trying
to bring us bad karma?” He ran both his hands through his hair, pulling at the roots.

Sy stared at the cuff in my hands, his mouth slightly open, as Johan spun to me. “Do you know who it belonged to?” he asked, his eyes wild and worried.

“Ramia,” I said quietly. “Her name was Ramia.”

Sy found his voice, but his eyes remained locked on the cuff. “Bone?” he asked. “Who carves stuff from bone?”

“Ramia,” I said.

“Yeah, I got that,” Sy said. “But, man, that’s messed
up
.”

I shrugged. “Ramia made the bone fish hooks, too.”
And she had a disturbing knack for predicting people’s fate, including her own.
I closed my eyes, blocking the memory of her prediction for me. “She left my third week here.”

“She didn’t get far,” Bart said at the same time Sy said, “That sucks.”

Suddenly I couldn’t wait to be rid of the bracelet. It felt heavy in my hands. “I’ll take care of this, okay?”

“You’ll bury it, right?” Johan’s eyes were twitchy.

“Definitely.”

Johan stood. “I’ll come with you. Sy, you come, too.” Johan’s tone left zero room for Sy to worm out. “We buried her, we should bury this, too. And we’ll pray.” Briefly, he turned to Bart and Miguel. “No offense, but you two should leave. Thad makes three, and right now we need all the luck a trinity can bring.”

Miguel didn’t need to be asked twice. Crossing himself repeatedly, he took off. Bart lingered, then left.

We walked in silence, past the Flower Field, to the burial ground. Johan and Sy used flat rocks to dig a hole. I wrapped the cloth around the bone like a shroud, then placed it in the hole, and Johan filled the tiny grave with dirt. The cloth disappeared, Nil reclaiming her own.

Untying a small sack from his waist, Johan shook out a handful of bleached coral. One by one, he placed pieces on the raw dirt until he’d formed a cross.

Still on his knees, he said, “Let’s pray.”

Eyes closed, I listened to Johan’s deep voice.

“Heavenly Father, we come to you on our knees. We ask you to bless this bracelet. And bless its owner, Ramia. May she rest in peace, and give her family strength. Your strength, wherever they are. And, Father, please help us. Please protect us from Nil and get us safely home. Amen.”

“Amen,” I murmured.

“Jeezy Pete, Johan, was that a prayer for the dead girl or for us?” Sy asked as we stood. “Are you supposed to dump all your prayers together like that?”

Johan shrugged. “Can’t hurt. Might help.” He looked at me, worry darkening his eyes. “Thad, I’ve got a bad feeling. We shouldn’t have taken that bracelet.”

Johan was by far the most religious and most superstitious person in the City. But I had a bad feeling myself. Finding a body was never good, and stripping it of a bracelet—a bracelet made of
bone
of all things—felt even worse. Especially
Ramia’s
bone bracelet. Holy Nil-nightmares-waiting-to-happen.

“At least it didn’t come back into the City,” I said, looking for the good. “And in the end, Ramia gets her cross.”

Johan nodded, but he still looked worried.

“What kind of bone was that?” Sy asked. “Please don’t tell me it was human.”

“Cow.”

“Well, that’s something,” Johan said.

That’s all we said the entire way back.

At the edge of the City, Sy cut right. “See ya,” he mumbled. Then he scurried toward the Cove. Johan hung back with me.

“I’ll carve for Ramia,” I said.

Johan nodded. “Thad.” His voice was firm. “I won’t go out with Sy again. I know he’s new, but he doesn’t listen. And he doesn’t get Nil.” Johan paused. “About an hour before we found Ramia, an inbound flashed twenty meters away. A hippo fell out. Big one, too. My shout gave us plenty of warning, but Sy panicked. He dropped the supply pack as he bolted to hide, and guess who trampled it? You know it, the hippo. Our last two days of food, gone.” Johan snapped his fingers for emphasis. “That’s why we’re back early. And then the bracelet. We shouldn’t have taken it. But Sy wouldn’t listen.”

“I hear you,” I said. “I’ll talk to Sy.”

“Good,” Johan said. “Maybe you can open his eyes.”

Doubtful
, I thought. If the bone bracelet–hippo combo didn’t sway Sy into recognizing Nil’s bad karma, I couldn’t imagine what words would.

“I’ll try,” I said. It was the best I could do.

I strode to the Wall, ready to rid myself of Ramia and find Charley. Going straight to Ramia’s weathered name, I carved a cross beside it. Then, out of habit, I glanced at my name. The day I’d carved those letters was still fresh: I remember gouging the wood, sealing the deal, and I remember my confidence, tinged with relief. The weird truth was, when I first landed here, I was secretly kind of stoked. Primed for a break from the grind and the pressure, I’d viewed Nil as a forced vacation, a mandatory mid-season break. I figured I’d be back on the mountain in no time. Back battling my dad over my dreams or his.

I couldn’t have been more wrong. And judging by the crosses littering the Wall, plenty of other people had been wrong, too.

Except Ramia. She’d been dead right.

I closed my eyes, abruptly repelled by the Wall, by the crosses, but mostly repelled by Ramia, whose prophecies I couldn’t shake.

Spinning around, I nearly knocked Li down.

“Ramia.” She pointed to the cross. “How you know?” Li made a slicing motion across her throat.

“Sy and Johan, they found her.”

“No. How you know it Ramia?”

“Her bracelet.” I wrapped my hand around my wrist. “The cuff. It was her.”

Li nodded, her eyes back on Ramia’s fresh cross. “Nil crazy,” she whispered.

“Thad! Incoming!” Macy shouted from the tree line. “On the beach!”

I dashed toward Macy, pulling my knife. The handle was still warm. I hit the sand at a full sprint, just in time to see the inbound gate flash brilliant and blinding. I had seconds, at best.

Charley, Sabine, and Natalie stood between me and the gate. Just ahead, Raj held a knife; Samuel and Rives gripped spears.

Blade low, I sprinted toward Charley. Her eyes were on the gate. It glittered over the sand, like a two-dimensional disco ball, and for an instant, the beach was perfectly reflected in the sparkling air.

Then every speck went black.