by Lynne Matson
While the City made their plans, so would she.
*
Near the Wall, Molly sat on a rock, studying her hands as though they belonged to someone else. There were the same broken nails, same torn cuticles, and the same starburst scar near her left thumb from when she’d burned her hand on a sparkler.
They were her hands.
But somehow, they were inexplicably, completely different. These hands held power—or took it, she wasn’t quite sure which one was true. But something had happened to her in that cavern the other day—something odd. When she’d pulled Skye from that pool, she’d felt a rush of warmth pass from her head to her toes, as if someone had cracked an invisible egg on her head and let it drip down, covering her completely before vanishing altogether. At the time she thought nothing of it, thought perhaps it was a rush of panic or adrenaline or something equally necessary giving her the strength to pull Skye free of that wretched water. But now she wasn’t so certain. Since then, she’d seen things. Things she didn’t want to see.
Each time she touched someone, she got flashes of them. Of their future. Not the whole picture but a glimpse: snapshots of decisions made, actions taken, feelings expressed, all fragments of moments to come, leaving it to Molly to piece together the details.
And the image she’d gotten from Davey the other morning brought heat to Molly’s cheeks just thinking about it.
As if she’d thought him into appearing, Davey sat beside her. “Are your hands okay?” he asked. “You’ve been looking at them for a good hour.”
“They’re fine.” Molly turned her eyes to Davey. She thought of how he brought her a cup of water each night without being asked and left it beside her bed. She thought of how he comforted Rives with a hand on his shoulder and water in his eyes, and how he buried a boy Molly had never seen, working beside James and Thad without question, without break, emotion twisting his face and her heart as he dug in the sand, his dark hair matted with sweat. The latter images were from the future, eerie glimpses of events to come.
Davey’s eyes stayed on her hands, as if he were inspecting them himself.
“Did you cheat on Lauren?” she asked abruptly. Where did that come from? she wondered.
“No, I didn’t. I swear on my life.” He still looked at her hands. “I’d actually broken up with Lauren, or maybe she broke up with me, the night before we came here. We both knew it wasn’t working. My heart wasn’t in it.”
“So, Emma? Was she your rebound?” Molly’s voice was colder than she liked.
Davey snorted. “Hardly. Emma was trying to prove a point.”
Molly raised her brows. “With her lips?”
Davey glanced back at the sea, his dark hair falling into his eyes. He needs a haircut, she thought. As if that mattered.
She sighed. Her mind was all over the place.
Not Davey’s. His was clearly still on that night.
“She accused me of being in love with someone else,” Davey said quietly. “She kissed me, daring me to prove her wrong. I didn’t kiss her back.” He shrugged. “You didn’t see what you thought you saw.”
I see more than you could imagine, Molly thought.
“Are you?” she said, feeling her world spin. “In love with someone else?”
“Completely.” Davey’s gaze was back on her hands. Something crackled in the space between them. Syllables flush with power hung in the air, waiting to form words that could change everything. Or nothing.
Molly let them float away, unacknowledged. The weight was too much, the shift too fast.
Abruptly Molly changed the subject. “Davey.” She twirled her blue streak of hair around one finger. “Something happened to me in that cavern when I was with Skye. I didn’t touch the water, at least I don’t think so. But something happened. Ever since then, when I touch someone, I see their future. Not the whole thing, just glimpses here, on the island. Like parts of a puzzle that I have to put together.”
“Like Skye in reverse,” he said, frowning.
Molly nodded.
Worry shaded his blue-gray eyes as he studied her. “You doing okay?”
“Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” She twirled her hair relentlessly. “I’m just not sure what to do with it, or how it can help Skye, and us.”
Davey’s eyes held hers. “I’d hug you but I’m scared to touch you.” His slight grin didn’t dent the concern in his eyes.
“You should be,” she joked.
“Now you sound like your brother.” A wry smile twisted his mouth. He looked away, toward the water.
His profile was striking; no wonder Lauren had fallen for him. Messy dark hair, great cheekbones, full lips. His long lashes curled slightly at the tips, something she’d never noticed before. They’d never sat, just the two of them, without one of her brothers or a friend or someone, until they’d come to Nil.
She’d never thought about how strange that was until now.
“When I grabbed your hand the other morning.” Davey spoke slowly, like each word had been carefully considered before being approved. “I felt something. You did too, right?”
She nodded.
“So you—saw something?”
She nodded again.
“What was it?” His graphite-colored eyes roamed her face. “What did you see?”
“Different things. You comforting Rives, you on the beach with Thad and James.” You kissing me fiercely, me kissing you back. She turned away so he couldn’t see her face, which had grown hot again.
His gaze was back on her hands. “I remember when you got that scar,” he said quietly. He reached out to touch her left thumb then jerked his hand back at the last minute. “JT was chasing you around with a sparkler, and I was so worried he’d hurt you that I tackled him. And when he fell, you came running and the sparkler flew from his hand and hit yours anyway. I hated that you got hurt.”
He looked up, his eyes pained. “It’s you, Molly. It’s always been you.”
Her jaw dropped as her entire world fell apart and came back together again.
“Why did you always let me think you were a jerk?” she asked, dumbfounded.
Davey half smiled. “Why didn’t you ever see the real me?”
“Davey!” Thad called from just up the beach. “Can I borrow you? We need to take a trip to South Beach.”
Without turning, Molly knew James stood silently beside Thad, waiting. And she knew what they would find. She nearly threw up, nearly asked Davey to stay. There was so much left unsaid. His words lingered, a question needing an answer.
Instead, she looked at Thad.
“Bring a shovel,” she said, her voice raw with empathy. “You’ll need it.”
CHAPTER
64
SKYE
23 DAYS UNTIL THE AUTUMNAL EQUINOX, MORNING
I missed Rives terribly. Part of me was gone. I’d ripped it out myself, trying to protect us both. Since Nil had emptied its memories in my head, I avoided Rives as a matter of course; it was just too much.
Better for Rives to get used to life without me, I reasoned. Because my end was written; there was no other choice. I didn’t need the Sight to know that. The future I desperately wanted with him was never going to happen. And because of that, being around Rives brought more pain than I could handle. His strong presence, his familiar touch, his knowing gaze that set me on fire—all were a stark reminder of what I’d already lost.
Now I sat alone at the edge of White Beach, trying not to think. Near the trees, a giraffe munched on a branch. He looked so content, so at home, probably because he’d never leave.
Like me.
A few yards from the giraffe, the leaves rustled. The giraffe stopped its chewing, ears pricked.
Black fur gleamed in the sun, muscles rippling. The green shifted, revealing paws and whiskers and eyes like slits. A panther, powerful and predatory.
He crouched ten yards away, at most.
I sat motionless, hoping the giraffe would pull out a kick or s
ome other survival trick in its giraffe arsenal of defense.
The panther slunk forward, eyes glittering; the giraffe turned toward the cat. In one fluid move, the panther brought down the small giraffe in a clean kill. I watched it happen as if it were a movie. I knew the island would protect me, because it needed me.
Curling into a ball, I covered my ears with my hands until the giraffe fell silent, its death cries blending with those in my head.
“Skye.” Molly’s gentle touch on my shoulder brought me back. “Are you okay?”
I opened my eyes. Molly knelt beside me. “Skye?” she repeated. She gently wiped tears from my cheeks.
I blinked. “Yes?”
“We’ve been looking for you. Rives is beside himself. He went to the Arches thinking that you might be there. I know you’re struggling with—” She paused, her voice softening. “The weight of knowledge,” she finished. “I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you. But running away isn’t the answer.”
“I wasn’t running away.” Was I?
The panther was gone. The giraffe’s carcass lay on the sand, partially obscured by the trees.
“Okay,” Molly said calmly, “you weren’t running away. But disappearing without telling anyone where you’re going isn’t good. We should get back. There’s a panther in the area, and some wild dogs too. It’s safer in the City. I don’t like you being here alone.”
I had a flash of Dai on the beach, alone. He’d died, alone. Somehow I knew my hunch was true.
“They buried Dai, didn’t they?” I looked at her. “Davey and Thad. And James. They buried him at South Beach.”
Molly nodded.
“Do you know why he had a fever?” I didn’t wait for her to answer. “Because he cut his leg on the rocks when he fell out of the gate, and the cut got infected. He never had a chance.”
I looked back at the ocean. “No one arrives sick. Did you know that? The island doesn’t transfer bacteria or viruses, just the DNA in its pure form. And the island prefers Americans, because we’re the ones who dropped the bombs. Pain for pain. The wild gates are drawn to us.” I closed my eyes. Too much. I know too much. I was a walking Nil encyclopedia.
“Okay,” Molly said again. “Good to know.”
“Is it?” I asked. I wasn’t certain.
We ran into Chuck and Davey halfway down the beach, heading north.
“Good morning, ladies.” Davey grinned. “The Chuckster and I are guava hunting.”
“There’s a panther up there,” I said, realizing I’d forgotten to tell Molly. “It just got a giraffe so I don’t think it’s hungry, but just wanted to let you know.”
Davey did a quick 180. He’d no sooner spun when the breeze stalled. Twenty yards out, a gate shot into the air, glittering in the noon sun.
It would roll north in seconds.
“Chuck, go,” Molly said, her quiet voice commanding. “You’ve done what you came to do.” Then she grabbed my hand and Davey’s. “Run!”
We ran. Out of the gate’s way, as Chuck sprinted straight for it.
And then he was gone.
We had twenty-three days left.
CHAPTER
65
RIVES
22 DAYS UNTIL THE AUTUMNAL EQUINOX, DAWN
Skye had shut me out.
She didn’t ignore me, or fight with me. In some twisted way, that might have been preferable. At least then I’d know she cared. She treated me like a casual acquaintance, not someone she loved. Not someone who would walk through hell for her, and already had.
My grip tightened on my board. I ached to get out on the water; it was the only place my fury didn’t rage these days. I hated touching Nil ground. Part of me envied Chuck, who’d caught a gate, a ticket out. The rest of me wanted to stay, to beat Nil senseless, to see it burn.
I hated this place.
Thad was moving faster than me this morning. He already stood at the water’s edge, back to me, board tucked under his arm, gauging the swells. Or maybe he was gearing up, bracing himself against the water’s chill. No wet suits here, and if you stayed in the water long enough, the cold crept in.
Classic Nil.
“Thad,” I called.
At the sound of his name, he turned and gave me an easy nod. “What’s up, brother?”
“You still talking to Charley?”
“Absolutely.” He smiled. A chill smile, the lucky bastard.
“Well, the next time you talk to her, ask her what the hell I’m supposed to do to save Skye.” I wasn’t kidding. I was grasping at straws, but it was all I had left. “I can’t accept it, Thad. She’s set on being last, on carrying a torch into the stationary gate. Nil’s gotten in her head. But it’s not her choice, it’s Nil’s.”
“I’ll ask Charley. But it won’t matter.” Thad gripped my shoulder. “Rives, Skye knows what she’s asking.” His voice was heavy. “She’s asking you to let her go.”
I threw Thad’s hand off. “You don’t get to tell me that,” I snapped. “You’ve got Charley back home, waiting for you. I’m losing Skye, Thad, I’m losing her. Forever. And you’re asking me to let her go. To say it’s okay. I can’t do that. I won’t.”
“It’s what she wants.” Thad’s voice was quiet.
“Wrong. It’s what Nil wants,” I said bitterly.
Now it was Skye standing on the edge of a cliff; Skye, ready to fall. And Thad was asking me to stand back and do nothing. Let her fall, let her go.
Let her die.
“You don’t know what Skye wants.” My tone ran cold. You don’t know her.
Thad didn’t react. “I do. I’ve talked to her, Rives, every day. I’ve listened to what you don’t want to hear. She can’t take it.” He pointed to his head. “It’s too much. The island changed her, and she can’t go back. She can’t rewind the clock, can’t reset. Can’t get all she knows—and feels—out of her head.” He swallowed. “Molly saw it. It’s the only way.”
“Like hell it is.” My voice was a growl. “I didn’t come back here to lose her. I came back to save her. Wait—” I paused. “What do you mean, Molly saw it?”
“You know how Skye saw the past? All of it?”
I nodded.
“Well, Molly sees the future. Totally whacked, but ever since she was in that cavern with Skye, she gets flashes of the future when she touches people. Like Ramia did. And Molly saw Skye walk through the gate holding a torch. She saw it, Rives. I wish it were different.” His eyes were pained.
“So what if Molly gets a flash? It’s an image Nil stuck in her head. The island’s playing games, Thad. You know how it is. And even if somehow Molly got a flash of the future, she’s not getting the full picture. It’s not over. Not by a long shot.”
I spun around, done with Thad. Done with this whole Nil mess. In that moment, the twin columns of Nil melded completely into one: cruel.
Thad had been right about Nil.
But he was dead wrong about Skye.
I strode back to the Shack, my dawn plans shredded. All I wanted to do was talk to Skye. Beg her if need be, make her see that sacrificing herself wasn’t necessary. I had to convince her, rationalize with her, get her to see that she wasn’t thinking clearly, that Nil had camped out in her head. That somehow there must be another way.
Back in the City, I headed for our hut. I was so deep in my head I didn’t realize anyone was inside until I got close. Skye’s voice stopped me short.
“So they’re pieces of the future,” Skye was saying.
“Yes, different images every time, every touch. But—” Molly paused. “Not with you. It’s weird. When I touch you, I get only one picture, every time. The same picture, as clear as day. You walking into the gate with a lit torch, a fireball exploding in darkness, and then nothing. Just black. But the black—” Molly shuddered. “It’s intense.”
I stood in the entrance. Neither girl noticed me. Sitting on opposite beds, they were fully focused on each other.
“After the black, do yo
u see anything?” Skye asked. The hope in her voice buoyed me, the first positive sign in weeks.
“No.” Molly shook her head. “The vision is over.”
Skye smiled, with a satisfied look that shocked me.
“It means nothing.” My voice ripped through the hut, hot and desperate, making both girls look up. “Skye.” I looked only at her. “This is what Nil wants. It’s what Nil has always wanted. You. Dead.” My tone went flat. “Please don’t do this. It’s Nil talking, not you.”
Skye sighed. The pity in her eyes took me aback. “Rives, I know what Nil wants, and what it needs. Yes, Nil is in my head, in me. I won’t deny it. But I’m here too.” Her eyes sparked. “And it’s my choice to go last and end this thing once and for all. It’s what I was brought here to do.” Her voice carried the same resolute tone as when she said she was going to the Death Twin weeks ago; it made me sick. She studied me, from a place much farther away than just a few meters.
“It’s my choice, Rives,” she said quietly, her eyes on mine, her tone Skye-fierce and deeply sad. “Nil can’t die if I live. I will be last. You have to let me go. If you love me, you’ll let me go. This is why I’m here,” she whispered. Then she closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry.
Somehow we’d moved past excuses to apologies when I was still fighting for a chance, as if the discussion were over.
It is, I realized.
She’d made her choice, and it didn’t include me.
My heart froze. Shattered, then flatlined.
I turned away first.
CHAPTER
66
NIL
ALMOST NOON
The island left the humans alone.
Their pain was too much; there was no reprieve.
Instead, the island focused on the four-legged creatures; it wielded its dwindling power in bursts, perfectly timed, purging the island of beasts, especially those that preferred meat. If the humans failed, if she failed—the one called Skye—then the island would be helpless to guide or sustain human life in the eons to come. The beasts here would be the least of their worries, but for now, the island wished to preserve as much human life as possible with the end drawing near.