Chapter 11
CHAPTER
THAD
The sound wave hit us before we reached the City’s edge. Whoops and cheers blasted through the air; news of Kevin’s success was spreading fast.
Charley didn’t move.
Natalie came running, tears streaming down her smiling face. But when she got a solid look at Charley, her grin faded. Eyes on Charley, Nat shifted into full-on command mode, one step shy of barking orders.
“That’s a lot of blood, but head injuries bleed so much, it’s hard to tell how bad it really is,” Natalie said as we walked toward the A-frames. “She might have a concussion. Someone needs to stay with her tonight and wake her every few hours.”
I almost interrupted to tell her I knew all about concussions, but she was on a roll so I let her go.
I’d smacked my head into a tree snowboarding when I was thirteen, knocked myself out, then spent the entire night throwing up—and that was with a helmet.
Without one, I’d have died for sure. I still wear a helmet when I board. Or did.
Nil had snow, but I’d never touched it. It dusted the peak of the tallest mountain, and we didn’t have the clothes or the gear to play on it. A snowcapped mountain, a total Nil tease.
Charley moaned, and I cut Natalie off mid-sentence. “Let’s get her settled,” I said, praying I hadn’t shaken Charley on the way back and made her concussion worse. The sooner I could lay her down, the better. “Where?”
“My house,” Natalie said. “I’ll clean up her head and stay with her.”
“I’ll stay,” I said quickly.
She looked at me, curiously. “Not yet. Rives needs you. He and Bart got into it about watch. Someone needs to settle Bart down.” Natalie grinned. “As in you.”
Bart. Charley and Bart, two polar opposites—the contrast was vintage Nil.
Bart was like a gnat, the kind that buzzed around your ear, persistent and annoying, regardless of how many times you swatted it away.
Right now the last person I wanted to deal with was Bart, and he was the one pulling me away from Charley. Classic.
Slipping into Nat’s A-frame, Charley in my arms, I moved toward the bed on the right.
“No!” Natalie jumped to block me. “Not that bed. This one.” She pointed to the other bed.
“Nat, you’re killing me,” I groaned as I stumbled to the other bed, which looked exactly like the first. My forearms were dying; my quads weren’t much better. Sometimes Nat’s leadership slipped into irritating bossiness, like now. The bed didn’t matter; Charley did.
Once Charley was settled, Natalie went to work treating Charley’s gash.
Neosporin and Motrin would have been great, but we were stuck with salt water and deadleaf.
I watched Natalie wrap a cloth around her own hand, then pick up a handful of mashed deadleaf and press it against Charley’s wound.
Throughout Natalie’s doctoring, Charley never moved.
“Do you think she’s okay?” I stared at Charley’s closed eyes. “She’s totally out.”
“I think so. Her cut’s not that bad. She’s really thin and probably dehydrated, not to mention exhausted.
Twelve days is a long time.” Holding the deadleaf compress steady, Natalie used her free hand to gently brush hair away from Charley’s eyes.
The simple kindness of it made my throat tight. Like Rives said, Nat was a good girl.
As if she’d read my thoughts, Natalie looked up, smiling. “When I saw her earlier, it took me back to the day I stumbled into the City, and I’d only been wandering three days. Twelve! No wonder she’s so skinny. I’d kill for her legs, though.”
I couldn’t help glancing at Charley’s legs. They were covered by a thin sheet, but I remembered them being long, lean, and sexy as hell. My mind flashed back to Charley on the beach, then bloody in my arms.
Open your eyes, I thought. Open your eyes so I know you’re okay.
“Thad?”
Natalie was staring at me.
“Yeah?” I cleared my mind, or tried to.
“Anyone else back?”
“Not that I know of. But I saw today’s gate. It flashed at Black Bay. Jason almost caught it. He was close.”
Natalie sighed. “Close doesn’t count. And if you saw the gate, it means Samuel didn’t catch it either. Or Li.”
“Nope. Or anyone else.” I shot Natalie a pointed look. “So you’ll head out tomorrow?”
“The next. I want to stay for the Nil Night.”
“Okay.” I looked back at Charley, who was either unconscious or asleep. “Anything I can do for her?”
Natalie cocked her head at me. “Not right now. She needs rest and water. Tell you what. How about I sit with Charley until you get back? You go take care of business, then take over. Deal?”
“Deal.”
As I rose, Natalie said, “Thad. One more thing.” Her soft voice was choked. “Will you carve for Kevin?”
The tightness in my throat was back. “I’d be honored.”
She nodded her thanks and gave me a silent wave.
It was my second trip to the Wall today, only this one was eminently more satisfying than the first. Going straight to Kevin’s name, I took pleasure in carving a check beside it. His empty space had been waiting long enough. Congratulations, man. You did it.
The edginess was gone.
Off to find Rives, I bumped into Samuel, my roommate who’d left early this morning to Search near the lava fields. His dark skin dripped water, and it wasn’t rain, not on this side of the island.
“Sorry, man,” I said, reaching out to clasp his hand. “Maybe tomorrow.”
“Maybe.” Samuel nodded, reflexively. “I thought I saw one. I went at it, hard.” He shook his head, his disappointment still fresh. We’d all run for false alarms. “But hey”—he forced a grin—“I’ve got time. Twenty-nine days, but who’s counting?”
“Right.” We both laughed, because the answer was everyone.
“You hear about Kevin?”
“No.” Samuel’s face closed. “What’s the word?”
I grinned. “He made it. A girl found his clothes in the red lava field.”
And just like that, hope was back. “All right.” Samuel nodded, cracking a smile. “That’s what I like to hear.”
“Absolutely. We’ll make it.” I clasped Samuel’s hand.
“We’ve got to, man,” he said, his smile fading, his grip crushing. “We’ve got to.”
I nodded, feeling abruptly intense, like he’d handed me his urgency.
“I’m gonna surf.” Samuel looked at the water. “Wanna go?”
“Already did. It’s choppy, but decent.”
Samuel waved. I watched him go, knowing there was nothing Samuel could do until tomorrow’s noon. Nothing but wait.
And surf.
Behind Samuel, a head-high swell pitched and rolled. It peeled down the line, crisp and full, cleaner than this morning. Much cleaner. The wind, I realized. It had shifted. The crosswind was gone, taking the chop with it, like the ocean was celebrating Kevin’s verdict too.
As I scanned the ocean, I spotted Rives. The sooner I could talk to Rives and deal with Bart, the sooner I could get back to Charley.
“Wait up, man,” I called to Samuel. “I’m in.”
We trotted over to the stash of boards propped by the Shack.
Finless wooden planks, made by someone who was here before me and which will be used by others after I’m gone—unless I break the board, which I sure as hell better not do.
Breaking a board feels like bad karma, and God knows we don’t need any more of that.
I grabbed my favorite, the thinnest one, about two and a half meters long. No fins to carve with, but that’s okay. My Burton boards back home don’t have fins either, and they shred the snow just fine. Water, snow. Whatever. Give me a board, and I’m good to go. It’s the best part of Nil.
Or was.
I thought of Charley and her golden eyes full of fire. I replayed the morning until we hit sand.
“Time to thread the needle,” Samuel said.
“Absolutely.” I nodded.
There were two heaps of black rocks, like bookends, where we always put in to paddle out.
You get a sick rush heading out that way, because you have to time the waves or risk getting crushed, and if there’s one thing about Nil that I get—I mean really get, way down deep in my core—it’s that she’s all about the timing.
I shot through the walls of black, scoring a surge of survival stoke, and worked my way through the swells. Close to shore, Rives bailed in the flats. Bart was nowhere in sight. Not surprising since he didn’t surf, but I’d guessed he’d be around, trying to make his case to Rives. Or worse, to me.
Beyond the break, I waited for Rives to paddle back out. For the first time in days, the lineup was packed. With people, with energy. With the heady vibe that Kevin had made it. It was killer, and yet I couldn’t stop thinking about Charley.
Charley, standing on the beach, chin raised in defiance.
Charley, studying my face, ready to bolt.
Charley, lying on the bed, knocked out cold.
“Rives!” I waved him over.
“Hey, bro,” he said, pulling up on his sled. “Already heard. Good news travels fast.” He grinned.
“Definitely. Listen, what’s the deal with Bart?” I asked. The sooner I could settle it, the sooner I could get back to Charley. “Nat said you guys got into it about watch?”
Rives nodded, looking pissed, which was rare.
“Last night I couldn’t sleep, so I came outside.
Bart was sacked out by the fire. I’m talking full-on REM.
All but two torches were out. I woke him up, told him to get his butt in bed, that I’d finish watch myself.
Told him I’d talk to him after I cooled down.
So this morning we had a little come-to-Jesus meeting.
I told him he was off watch duty. That for someone so eager to get out on Search, he was doing a piss-poor job of showing he was worth taking.
I mean, would you want Bart as your support?
When he sleeps on watch?” Rives shook his head, disgusted.
“Especially when, for all we know, the tiger’s still out there, prowling around. And by now that kitty’s hungry.”
Rives shrugged, his anger waning. He never stayed pissed for long. “Anyway, that’s how we left it. He’s still whining. I’m just over it. But, listen.” Now Rives looked uncomfortable. “There’s something else. And it happened last night, on Bart’s watch.”