Nil (33 page)

But she was wrong. If you averaged my odds, I’d be lucky to spy one gate a week. And with just under eight weeks left, I had maybe eight shots. Twelve at best. It wasn’t the Dark Side talking; it was Nil reality.

Only six hours until today’s noon.

Tick-tock.

CHAPTER

49

CHARLEY

DAY 64, DAWN

I woke, alone.

The bed beside me was cold, and for one terrifying second, I thought Thad was gone. We’d gotten back last night, after nearly two weeks on yet another fruitless Search.

“Hey.” Thad’s voice rang from the doorway. “I didn’t mean to wake you. The waves are pumping. Want to come?” The rising sun shadowed his eyes, and I didn’t like it. “But no pressure,” Thad was saying. “If you want to sleep longer, just say the word.”

“No.” I jumped up. “I’m awake.”

Outside our A-frame, two boards lay on the ground. By the fire, Dex was carving a spear, his back to the Wall. Only now there were two walls, which felt both right and strange.

Sergio was carving the island map in wood, right next to the Naming Wall. When finished, the Master Map would live on, long after the paper maps disintegrated and the ones who made them were gone.

Like me, and like Thad.

As we passed the Wall, Thad’s blank space stood out like a sore thumb. Other blank spots held more meaning than ever. Jillian. Rives. Jason. Macy. All had spaces waiting to be filled, belonging to real people I knew and cared for.

Bart’s space was blank, too, and for all I knew, it might stay that way. The consensus was that he’d either caught a gate or run into trouble. No one gave him much credit for survival, and no one seemed to care.

There was a new name, Naomi. Her accent reminded me of Sabine’s, only less buoyant. She’d been here six days.

I’d been here sixty-four.

And Thad had been here 330.

Trying not to freak out so early in the day, I focused on the dawn. As the rising sun kissed the water, the day’s promise was so fresh, so raw, it gave me hope.

We glided through the channel, with the breeze at our backs. I pulled up on my board, and in that perfect moment, Natalie’s words floated back to me.
Time flies here, faster than you’re ready for.

Natalie was right. The last few weeks had flown by, too fast to count—and yet we did. Twenty-six days, twenty-six noons. Fourteen days with no gates at all. Three inbound: one brought a deer; another, a chicken. The third came and went, with no rider at all. Five outbound. Two singles, both moving away, too fast to catch. Two doubles. One was close, so close Thad said he felt the heat, but it collapsed before he made it, almost on top of the Woman in the Maze carving, which of course I’d made a rubbing of to add to my collection. The other double was so distant it may have been wishful thinking. And two days ago, we’d seen a triple, close enough to identify, but too far away to catch. That noon was the worst. To miss three chances was a huge loss, because triples were rare. No wonder Thad doubted my quad.

And I was doubting my charts. The gate wave started in the lower right quadrant of the island—that I believed. It made sense. It fit with the charts and the labyrinths. But after that, gates flashed without a definitive pattern. Like I’d already figured out, they never flashed in the same place two days in a row, or even on the same latitude. But they jumped around, and days would pass without us seeing any gates at all. Something was missing.

No,
I
was missing something. We all were.

And now that I’d seen the Woman in the Maze for myself, I was more convinced than ever that the carvings provided not only the start of the gate wave, but something deeper, something more personal. Something each person had to figure out before he or she could leave. That part I didn’t voice to Thad. On the subject of the labyrinths, his mind was closed.

He floated beside me, studying the horizon. I traced his profile with my eyes, committing the lines of his face to memory.

“I absolutely, completely love you,” I said.

“And I absolutely, completely love you.” Smiling, Thad raised one eyebrow. “What was that for?”

“No regrets,” I said.

“No regrets,” he agreed. His blue eyes sparkled. Then he pointed. “Go, Charley from Georgia. Or you’re gonna miss your wave.”

I didn’t move.

“You don’t want your wave?” His lazy smile was full of challenge.

No, I want something else.

“There’s something I need to ask.”

CHAPTER

50

THAD

DAY 330, MORNING

Charley and I had the ocean to ourselves for a while, then the easy waves brought company. Rives and Jason paddled out; Miya too. Unlike Heesham, Miya was feather-light. I knew the board could float her if she just managed to stand up. She did.

The waves were fresh and frothy, and for a few adrenaline-filled minutes, I forgot all about the days.

I had thirty-five left.

Waking up in the City today was harsh. Not quite full-on suckage, but close. The stakes were high, and I knew it; my internal Nil clock woke me up. The tick-tock, the urgency. The sense that I’d better catch a gate, and soon. Charley’s charts were solid, and I knew they’d up my odds. They already had. But in the end, it was up to Nil and how she wanted to play the game.

When I’d passed the Wall this morning, my tired space screamed at me. Holding steady between two crosses, it begged for a check, like Kevin.
I’m trying
, I thought. God, was I trying.

The triple tease Nil had sent two days ago was her latest cruel call. Three gates, three sprints. I’d never even been close enough to feel the heat.

Shoving that memory aside, I blinked to clear my head and searched for Charley. She was paddling out. Water slicked across her board, caressing her skin like I dreamed of doing every second of every day.

Like an icy slap in the face, Charley’s words from an hour ago crashed back.

Thad, what we talked about, before we went on Search. I asked for something, and you said no. Do you remember?

I’d sat there, feeling my blood chill, trying not to throw up.

I remember
, I’d said. Like I could forget.

I thought about it all the time, not that she’d know that. I thought about it during the day, when she smiled, making my heart race and body ache. I thought about it at night, when lying next to Charley was exquisite torture. I thought about what it would be like to be with her, knowing it would be better than anything I’d experienced ever, because this was Charley. And it was exactly because it was Charley that it wouldn’t happen. It couldn’t happen—not here, for all the reasons I’d told her before.

I want you to reconsider
, she’d said, her golden eyes determined.

Why?
I’d asked, wondering why she was testing me, like I hadn’t weighed the risks a million times over and always come down on the cruel side of no.
Why take the risk
?

Because I don’t want any regrets,
she’d answered
. I want you to be my first.

I’d stared at her, stunned, wondering when she’d decided our happily ever after wasn’t meant to be.

So you don’t think we’ll both make it
. My voice had been flat.

NO!
she’d said. She’d looked shocked, which had surprised me.
It’s just—I want—
She’d looked away.
Never mind. Forget I said anything.

Charley, look at me
. I’d worked not to beg.

She’d turned back, and the desperation in her eyes killed me.

I love you
, I’d said.
More than you can imagine. More than I’ve ever loved anyone ever. And I’d love to give you what you want—God, you don’t know how much I want that—but we can’t
. Her lips had parted, like she was about to say something, then closed.

Charley
—I’d slowed, holding her gaze—
if you really believe in us—that we’ll both make it—it doesn’t matter if we wait.

She’d stared at me, lips parted but not saying a word, and the awful chill had rushed back. My knuckles had tightened on the edge of my board.

Don’t quit on me, Charley
, I’d thought
. I’m barely hanging on. I want us to make it so badly I hardly sleep. And when I do, I feel the heat of a gate in my dreams, knowing only one of us can take it. I dream of you, of gates, of being with you somewhere other than this plastic paradise, and sometimes it’s all I have to get through the day
.

Don’t quit on me.

Because if she quit on us now, I didn’t think I was strong enough for the both of us.

Charley?
I’d prompted, keeping my face blank.

You’re right
, she’d said, forcing a smile.
It doesn’t matter if we wait
.

Liar,
I’d thought
,
watching her golden eyes flicker. But I didn’t say it. Something told me she was as scared as I was, that the fairy-tale ending we desperately wanted would crumble for sure if we brought our fears to light. Like Nil would feed off them, making them real.

So I’d said nothing. Neither had Charley.

But I still felt cold, even now.

“Hey, Thad!” Charley shouted, pulling me back to the present. “Did you see that? I tried that cutback thingy, and I didn’t fall off!”

Watching Charley celebrate, I almost broke. The pain in my chest was so great, the swell of want so potent that I could barely breathe. Forcing a breath, I focused on Charley’s latest victory, which had everything to do with Charley herself and absolutely nothing to do with Nil.

“You killed it, Charley. I knew you had it in you.” As she paddled up beside me, I thought,
Please let me sleep tonight. Not forever, just for a night. I really need it, before I lose it for good.

For the first time, I pretended the foam was snow. I missed racing so much it hurt like a bruise, one only I could see. I’d taught Charley to surf; I ached to teach her to board. My kind of boarding, flying on ice. It was part of my happily-ever-after, and lately no matter how hard I stretched, it seemed just out of reach.

But wanting to see Charley on snow more than I’d ever wanted anything ever—because that vision meant we both won, it meant we had a future without limits—I closed my eyes as I made the drop.

When we left the ocean, I was spent but still sane. I counted that as a win.

On the sand, Heesham and Rives were setting up the volleyball net, with an audience of hecklers. A cocker spaniel ran around the beach, barking at the waves. I wondered when the Nil pup had arrived. Pets didn’t make it onto the Wall.

“I call Charley!” Heesham shouted when he saw us.

“Too late.” I smiled. “She’s taken.”

“I call Ahmad!” Jillian said. He gave her a high-five, and with his long arms, he looked like a contender.

New teams, new day, but the result was the same: Charley was unstoppable. Charley spiked home the final point, splitting the line between Ahmad and Jillian. Both dove and missed it. Then she turned to me. “No regrets.” She winked.

“No regrets,” I said, then kissed her forehead.

As Charley laughed with Jillian, I scanned the audience. It looked different. Familiar faces gone. Fresh faces I didn’t know. And other faces, older and sharper.

Suddenly I felt stale and out-of-date, like those oldies on the slopes. Still shredding, slow and steady, but their mojo has been stolen by someone younger. Someone with more time.

“You okay?” Charley asked, poking my arm. “You look a little far out there.”

“Yeah.” I smiled. “Just tired.”

She looked at me, hard, like she saw through my crap answer but decided not to call me out on it.
Thank you, Charley, for just being you
. I kissed her again.
No regrets.

“Let’s eat,” Jillian called, waving everyone over.

“And reset the teams,” Rives added, shooting me a look before winking at Charley. “Hey, Charley. Will you take pity on me for one game? And while you’re thinking about it, I need another Second. With your maps and charts, you’re a good fit. You game?”

His request hit me hard.
Talla
, I thought. She was Rives’s missing Second. He hadn’t replaced her, and Charley would be perfect. Charley with her fierce attitude, her island ingenuity and her killer charts giving everyone hope. But for some reason, I wanted her to say no. To not give up any more of herself.

Of course she said yes.

“I’d be honored,” she said, looking solemn. Then she squeezed Rives’s arm. “I miss her, too. Last time we ran, Talla beat the tar out of me. I still owe her a Sprite.”

Rives nodded. It took him a moment to speak. “Thanks,” he said.

We sat around, catching up. Ahmad was the life of the group. The dude was funny, I’d give him that. Like a stand-up comic, even when he was sitting down; he was just that tall. And after a few weeks in Nil City, he’d even added some weight.

But the biggest change was in Dex. Tan, with a few muscles, his tats looked menacing now, and his vacant look was gone. He actually looked human, except for the ears. Now he sported twine hoops through the holes with shark’s teeth dangling like knives.

Jillian stood, covering her eyes as she looked out to sea. “Guys, do you see that? There’s something in the water.”

“Nothing ever washes up on Nil,” Charley murmured, briefly squinting at the sea before sliding her eyes to me. “You told me that my first day here.”

“This is a first,” I said.

Jillian was right. Something
was
floating in the water. Something that didn’t belong.

A body.

CHAPTER

51

CHARLEY

DAY 64, LATE MORNING