Chapter 16
CHAPTER
CHARLEY
The boy named Rives led Rory away, steering him by the shoulder. Lips pursed, Rory looked like a mad blowfish, or maybe it was just his sunburn.
As I turned, Thad reappeared by my side.
“I think I need a new island guide,” I teased. His face kind of fell. “Kidding,” I said. “Is Natalie okay?”
“She misses Kevin.”
“I figured.” Then I remembered something. “Hey, what did Miguel show you?”
“A cow bone.”
“A cow bone,” I repeated. “Why?”
“I had to bury it.”
“Okayyy,” I said. “Did something bad happen to the cow? I mean, obviously the cow died. But was it bad?”
“Actually, no. The cow fell off a cliff. Everyone had steak for dinner.” Thad grinned.
“Huh.” I didn’t know what else to say.
I looked around the beach. The surfers had come in.
I recognized one as Jason, the curly-haired kid who’d accused me of stealing Kevin’s clothes.
The boys had stopped throwing their coconut football; the group around the fire had split up.
Anticipation hung in the air as thick and heavy as Atlanta humidity in August.
And then it hit me: it was nearly noon.
“Is everyone looking for a gate?” I asked. “An exit gate?”
“Yeah.” Thad’s eyes roamed the beach. “They always come at noon, but that’s all we know. They pop up anywhere, but never the same spot two days in a row.” He ran his hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “It sucks. Like trying to hit the lottery.”
I noticed no one watched the ocean.
“Do they ever come from the water?” I asked.
“Nope. Just across land.” Tension rolled off Thad in waves.
Heesham stood closest to us, about twenty feet away.
Sabine stood near Heesham, her eyes as busy as Thad’s.
Two other boys—one I recognized as Miguel—stood at the tree line; others were fanned to the right.
Just as Natalie walked out from the trees with Li, the wind stalled, the sun felt hotter, and everything happened at once.
The sand at Sabine’s heels melted. Shimmering sand rose into the air behind her, then the sand fell, leaving wavering, iridescent air stretching over her head.
Recalling the gate that brought Rory, I immediately saw the difference.
This gate was like the ones in the red rock field: more translucent, less reflective—more like glass than a mirror, and this gate rose from the ground, whereas Rory’s gate had popped midair and dropped.
This gate was an outbound. And it was right behind Sabine.
The gate was still rising when Heesham shouted, “Sabine! Run!”
Other voices: “Li! Gate!” It was a chorus. “Li! Li!”
To my surprise, Sabine leaped away from the gate, not toward it.
At the same time, Li broke from Natalie, sprinting toward Sabine.
Sabine twisting; Li running. The shimmering air streaked forward and rolled over Sabine.
She cried out, the outlines of her body rippled and faded, the gate collapsed inward—and then it was gone.
So was Sabine.
Li stood five feet away, her face pale.
Heesham let out a cry like a wounded bear, shattering the weird silence. His face set in furious stone lines, he strode to the ocean, where he launched something small into the sea. Without waiting for it to drop, he took off running, up the beach. Alone.
The shift in the mood was shocking.
No one smiled. No one laughed. Other than Heesham, no one even moved. Only on Nil does a naked boy fall from the sky and no one bats an eye. And yet when that gate swallowed Sabine, everyone looked shocked.
I turned to Thad. “What’s wrong? Why aren’t people happy for Sabine? Did something bad happen to her?”
“No. It’s just—Li’s been here so long, that gate should have been hers. And Sabine’s a huge loss.” Thad shook his head. “Huge.”
Miguel and a blond boy I hadn’t met yet walked up. The blond boy’s face was a mixture of fury and defeat—like Heesham’s, but different. Less angry, more frustrated.
“Thad,” he said, in an accent I couldn’t begin to place, “you see? Our best healer, gone.” The boy snapped his fingers, then clenched his hair at the roots. His eyes sparked. “Sy brought this upon us. You talk to him. Make him see.”
Thad sighed. “I hear you, Johan. I’ll try.”
The boy nodded, slightly mollified.
Miguel cocked his head at the angry boy. “Ready, amigo?” After a quick triple count, they took off at a fierce sprint.
“My money’s on Johan,” Thad said. His tone was dull.
“You don’t have any money,” I said. “At least not here.”
“No, I don’t.” His voice still flat, Thad watched the boys race.
“Thad, look at me.” That got his attention. “You said everyone wanted Li to catch that gate. That it should’ve been hers. What did you mean?”
Thad glanced back at the boys, but not before a shadow flickered across his face, a soul-wrenching darkness at odds with the brilliance of the day.
“C’mon,” he said, “let’s walk.”
I didn’t move. “No. I don’t want to walk. I want to know what’s going on. And I want to know now.”
Thad looked at me, his golden hair falling into his eyes, his face set in hard lines. Then he sighed, and his face melted into the same defeat I’d just seen on Johan. “You’re right. You have to know. I was just—” Shaking his head, he gave a humorless laugh.
“Just what?” I asked.
“Being an idiot. Hoping to delay the inevitable, pretending for a minute it didn’t exist. But it does.”
“What?” I frowned, frustrated.
“Nil.” Thad sighed. “Okay, here’s the deal. You get here, as a teenager, somewhere between thirteen and nineteen. You have one year. To catch a gate, or—” He stopped, his sapphire eyes so full of fire I thought he might go up in flames.
“Or?” I prompted.
“You die.”
The bright blue sky remained cloudless, and the aquamarine ocean still crashed gently onto the white sand beach, but the scene was suddenly warped. Twisted, as I processed Thad’s words.
“What do mean, you die?”
“You die.” Thad’s voice was heavy; the fire was gone. “It’s like everyone has a personal window of time that the gateway to Nil stays open for them. It’s always one year. Exactly three hundred sixty-five days. If you miss that window, you’re done.”
“What do you mean, you’re done? You die? How?” I’d always been a stickler for details, and these seemed pretty darn important.
“I’m not really sure. I’ve never been with anyone on their last day, and most people Search alone at that point. Then we either find their clothes or their body.” Thad looked sick. “That’s why I asked you about the days, because it’s important to keep count.”
“Tick-tock,” I said, doing some quick mental math.
“You okay?” Thad’s eyes searched mine.
“Peachy. Eighteen is overrated.”
“Don’t tell me you’re giving up.” He sounded shocked.
“I was kidding. I’ve still got three hundred fifty-two days.” I looked at Thad. “What about you? How many do you have left?”
Thad’s grin was wry. “Eighty-six. But who’s counting?”
Me. Em-bleeding-behind-the-wheel fear shot through me. I couldn’t imagine Nil without Thad, but it was more than that. It was something deeper, something raw, something that I didn’t expect or understand, something I just felt.
Me.