Nil Unlocked

by Lynne Matson

  I tripped on a root, feeling woozy. Stupid, I thought. Leaving before breakfast was a rookie move. Hunger had left me weak.

  Pay attention, whispered the breeze.

  So I did.

  I turned, seeing the ground, dusted with dead leaves and ashes of volcanoes past; the tropical woods, harboring squirrels, rabbits, and other small doomed creatures; the tree canopy, an organic web full of holes, letting light peek through, showing off spots.

  Black spots, layered on gold. Thirty meters off the path, a leopard lounged high in a tree, eyes closed, paws dangling.

  Merde.

  I’d never seen a big cat so far from the meadow, but Nil’s rules were subject to change without warning.

  I’m learning, Nil.

  I drew my blade and walked with care, avoiding anything that might make noise as I put distance between me and the cat. Every muscle stayed taut, ready for flight. The path cut toward the sea and I’d just spotted the Cove when something rustled on my left.

  I spun, braced to face a hungry cat and found myself facing a boy instead. Thin and rangy, with blond hair and skin as pale as the moon, he wore nothing but an expression of pure fear. He half hid behind a tree.

  Slowly, I sheathed my knife and raised my hands. “Do you speak English?”

  Ahmad’s voice echoed behind me. “Rives?”

  The boy startled like a spooked deer. He ran, away from me, toward Nil’s interior, where human shelf life shrank dramatically.

  “Wait!” I called.

  The boy spun back, covering himself, his expression terrified.

  My hands stayed raised, my shoulders relaxed. “Hablas español?” I asked.

  He shook his head.

  “Parle tu français? Sprichst du Deutsch?” I asked.

  Words burst from the boy’s mouth, rapid-fire syllables. Russian. Possibly Ukranian.

  “Russian?” I asked.

  His eyes lit up. “Da!” Then he launched into a run of Russian that was lost on me.

  Pointing to my chest, I said, “Rives.” Then I pointed to Ahmad. “Ahmad.”

  Miraculously, the boy got it. He pointed to his chest. “Nikolai.” Then he rattled off another string of words, waving one arm around the air.

  I bent and touched the ground. “Nil.” I patted the ground. “Nil.”

  “Nil,” the boy repeated. Then he frowned. “Nil?”

  I nodded. “Nil.”

  Ahmad stared at me, wearing a total who are you? expression.

  “How many languages do you speak?” he asked.

  “Five, and a bit of Thai. Mostly curses,” I said. “But no Russian, which I think Nikolai is. The new rookie. Alexei. Does he speak English?”

  “Enough to get by.” He ripped a giant taro leaf off a nearby bush and handed it to Nikolai, gesturing for him to use the leaf to cover himself. A second leaf followed the first. It’s amazing what a little coverage will do for a person’s sanity. But Nikolai needed more than clothes. He needed a Nil tutorial.

  “We need Alexei,” I said.

  “He’s in the fields. I’ve got this. And I’ll get Nikolai decked out at the Shack.”

  “Thanks.” I nodded.

  I gestured for Nikolai to follow us. He did, louder than I’d like, but I felt better knowing he wasn’t running around solo without skivvies.

  At the Cove, Ahmad and Nikolai kept walking; I stopped.

  Macy, Sy, Dex, Jillian, and Johan all stood in a loose semicircle by the water. When Jillian saw me, she came running, her eyes flashing, her hair wet.

  “Oh my God, Rives. I thought something happened to you. Where have you been?”

  “Spelunking.” I grinned.

  Her eyes narrowed. “When I woke up, I went looking for you. I saw you dive under the falls. I followed and called your name into the cave, but you didn’t answer.” Her blue eyes were wide and accusing. “So I went back and grabbed Johan. We went in together, and that’s when we found—” She shivered, her voice dropping to a whisper. “What was left of him. Or her. Sitting against the wall at the dead end.”

  The word dead hung in the air between us.

  “My first thought was that somehow, it was you,” she continued in a shaky voice. “That the island had swallowed you, leaving dried bones. I know it’s crazy, but I swear, that’s what I thought.” She took a breath. “We waited for you to come out of the cave. You never came out.” Her tone hardened. “So where did you go?”

  I explained about the arrows, the cavern, the carvings, and the kid, conveniently leaving out the kid’s warning to not go back.

  “I never saw the skeleton,” I finished. “I’d gone left. Which I guess turned out to be right.” I winked.

  Jillian glared at me. “Don’t think you can sweet-talk your way out of this, Rives. That was a big risk you took going off by yourself and not telling anyone where you were going. The City needs you. Don’t pull stupid crap like that again, okay?”

  Johan, Sy, and Dex strode up, and I rehashed my morning again. When I was done, Johan looked thoughtful.

  “That cave tunnel is ancient,” he murmured. “It feels old, and that person has been dead a long time. I think that person chose their own dead end.”

  Dex’s eyes widened. “You think that bloke offed himself in the dark?”

  “No,” Johan said. “I don’t think he took his life; I think his life was taken. I think the skeleton belongs to a person who chose to meet his Maker in that place.” Johan crossed himself and looked toward the Cove. “May he rest in peace.”

  “Stop it, Johan.” Jillian rubbed her arms. “You’re creeping me out.”

  “I’ll pass on the cave tour, thank you very much.” Dex gave an exaggerated shiver. “It’s a bloody tomb in there.”

  “It’s not a tomb. Well,” I clarified as Dex shot me an are-you-for-real look, “not totally. It’s something else. Something important.” I looked at the Cove, thinking of the skeleton and the dozens of carvings. What else did I miss?

  “Rives.” Dex’s soft voice made me turn back. He cocked his head at me. “Your own Second gave me a bit of advice on my Day One. Charley told me that all that matters here is survival and escape. And she was right. The cave art is a dodgy distraction, mate. Nothing more. Don’t let the island creep in. It might drive you mad.”

  “C’mon, Dex. Not you, too.” I smiled. Now was not the time to mention Talla’s whispers in my head.

  “Here’s the thing. When I woke up in the rainforest, I swear I saw a leopard. Furry, long tail, spots, cat ears”—Dex gestured as he spoke—“the whole bit. It was up in a tree, chewing on something that looked like a corpse. I recognized a foot.” He blinked. “I know I was jacked when I landed, so perhaps it was all in my head. But I constantly dream of leopards. Man-eating ones. Sometimes I think I’m actually mental. So when I say don’t let the island in your head, I mean it. If you go mad, we’re all buggered.”

  “I won’t let the island mess with my head,” I told Dex. No more than it already has. “And I’ve got bad and good news.” I grinned. “There is a leopard on Nil. Near White Beach. It was sleeping in a tree.”

  Dex paled. “What’s the good news?”

  “You’re not mental.”

  “Right. I’ll take your word for it.” Dex exhaled heavily. “I’m not too keen on the leopard though. Bugger me. We’ve got a bloody leopard as our neighbor now?”

  “At least it wasn’t eating anything.”

  “Let’s hope he’s not hungry, then,” Jillian said softly.

  We all looked at her.

  “What?” She raised her eyebrows. “Well, it’s true.”

  “I do not want to have this discussion now. Or ever. I’m off to fill Jason in on all the fun.” Dex saluted grandly, then strode off, muttering about leopards.

  “We need to be careful now,” Johan said, his eyes on the Cove. “We have disturbed a person’s resting place.”

  “Johan, you didn’t disturb anything,” I said, exasperated. “The rockslide open
ed up the entrance, and we checked it out. End of story. You didn’t mess with the skeleton, right?”

  Jillian looked guilty. “I sort of tripped over it. And”—she gulped—“it rattled.”

  Johan looked appalled. Sy took a step backward, distancing himself from Jillian. I needed to rein them in, ASAP.

  “Listen, that person is long gone.” I relaxed my tone. “Don’t make this into something it’s not, okay?”

  “The equilibrium is gone,” Johan said quietly. “There’s an urgency now. A desperation. An island shift, and it’s not in our favor.” He looked directly at me. “You feel it, too, yes?”

  I hesitated one second too long.

  Johan snapped a sharp nod. “We must be more vigilant than ever.” He strolled away, crossed himself, and pointed at the sky.

  Jillian watched Johan walk away. “Sometimes he’s just so intense. I bet he doesn’t step on sidewalk cracks at home or stay in a hotel with a thirteenth floor. God forbid he ever drops a mirror.”

  “Well, there are no sidewalks, hotels, or mirrors here, so I think he’s good.” But privately I agreed with Johan; I’d sensed the shift in the hour after Charley and Thad left. It was as if the island had woken from a deep slumber and was more alive than ever.

  Or maybe that was me.

  Come, the falls whispered.

  Maybe the inked boy was there, behind the falls. Maybe he had a name.

  Maybe he had answers to questions I didn’t even know to ask.

  “Rives.” Jillian touched my arm, her eyes worried. “I know you want to go back in there. I see it in your eyes. Promise me that if you go, you’ll take backup.”

  “Jillian, there’s nothing to be afraid of in that cavern. I promise you it’s safe.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not what I asked. Promise me you won’t go in without backup.”

  “I can’t make that promise, Jills. But I will promise you I won’t do anything stupid.”

  She sighed. “Too late.” She turned away. “I’ve got to show Zane how to stretch the pulp to dry. We’re trying to get ahead on clothes.”

  “Jillian. One more thing. Will you be my new Second?”

  Jillian walked back and hugged me tight. “No. I’m not Natalie or Talla or Charley. I’m not a Leader, and if you think about it, you’ll know I’m right. You’ve got Dex and Sy, although why you picked Sy I’ll never know. That boy can’t figure out how to roast a pineapple or tie a decent knot. People trust Macy; same for Ahmad. I’m not sure you need another Second, but if you do, I’m not your girl.” She kissed my cheek. “You know I love you. I’m behind you one hundred percent, just not as a Second.”

  “You know, you’d be a better Leader than you think.”

  “Still saying no here, Rives.” She smiled.

  I laughed.

  “Ready to walk back? Or are you going in?” She pointed to the Cove.

  “Lead on, Jills. I’m going back with you.”

  “It’s still a no,” she said as we walked. “No, no, no.”

  “We’ll see.” I winked.

  We walked back together in comfortable silence. She’d questioned why I’d picked Sy, whose enthusiasm far outweighed his skills as a Second. At the time, I’d picked him thinking of the adage Keep your friends close and your enemies closer. And even though he no longer undermined the City, he still didn’t exercise the best judgment. Usually it was no judgment, like he’d forgotten to engage his brain, and it was in the crucial moments when the island forced him to make a call on the spot that Sy waffled or bailed. I trusted Dex like I’d trusted Thad—like Thad had trusted me and Heesham. I’d trusted Talla, too; same for Charley.

  Sy, I didn’t trust at all, not the way I should.

  So now I had one Second I trusted; one I didn’t. And the other person I trusted most, Jillian, was unwilling. Jason was too young; same for Miya. Macy was too kind; the tough choices and cruel moments would gut her. Ahmad was my best bet, but I balked at an all-male council; the balance felt off. And Nil was all about the balance.

  Maybe Nil was in my head after all.

  “Hey, Jillian. Got a favor to ask.”

  “Still no, Rives,” she said, smiling.

  I laughed. “I want you to give me a haircut. It’s time to ditch the dreads.”

  She stopped. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” They felt like a weight I didn’t want to carry, a link to a boy more carefree than I had a right to be.

  Jillian’s eyes flicked over my face, unsure.

  “Just a hassle,” I said casually. “Too much maintenance.” My answer satisfied her. Twenty minutes later, she’d hacked them off with Thad’s knife and cropped my hair short.

  Running my hands over my scalp, I felt lighter. Faster.

  Fiercer.

  I threw my dreads into the sea. The foaming water curled around the offering like liquid claws. Take that, Nil. It’s the last thing I’ll give you. I may be stuck here, but you don’t own me. You don’t control me—not my mind, not my body, not my spirit. Not my fate. Because I’m finding out your secrets, and when I do, this place will never be the same.

  I will never be the same.

  The last part was already true.

  CHAPTER

  13

  SKYE

  NOVEMBER 18, LATE MORNING

  “This is our big break, Skye. I feel it.”

  I peered over Dad’s shoulder at his Mac. An article from a French news site filled the screen.

  The headline read: MISSING AMERICAN GIRL FOUND ON MONT BLANC.

  A seventeen-year-old American teenager who disappeared last August near her Roswell, Georgia, home was found yesterday on the slope of Mont Blanc. Charley Crowder was discovered alive and uninjured, although she is reportedly suffering from hypothermia and extreme shock. According to local authorities, Ms. Crowder was “extraordinarily lucky” to have been found. “She was left for dead in unmarked terrain,” said one eyewitness who refused to give his name. Another eyewitness claimed Ms. Crowder was naked, although that report has yet to be confirmed.

  Ms. Crowder was reported missing last August and had not been seen or heard from until yesterday. She was reunited with her family this morning. No further information was released.

  Dad looked at me, a fierce combo of intellectual curiosity and I-believe-in-aliens loony radiating from his eyes. “Charley’s story matches the pattern of Scott’s, albeit a shorter time frame, but her story suggests she was on Nil. Perhaps she can tell me something specific about Nil, something to help pinpoint the island’s location. I’m going to fly to Atlanta and see if I can speak with her in person. With her parents’ permission, of course.”

  He sounded more fanatical than he looked. Yikes.

  “Dad.” I spoke calmly to counter his crazy. “Listen to yourself. You’re just going to fly down to Atlanta and do what? March up to her house, introduce yourself to her parents, and say, ‘Hi. I’m a professor of astrophysics, and I think your daughter was on a mysterious island that really exists even though it’s uncharted and I’d like to talk to her about it’? Do you hear how creepy that sounds? Their daughter just showed up after being missing for months, and you think they’re going to let some strange guy who says he’s a professor come in and talk to her?” I shook my head. “I don’t think so.”

  He had the decency to look chagrined.

  “You haven’t thought this through at all, have you?” I asked.

  “Not really,” he admitted.

  I thought for a moment, putting myself in Charley’s shoes.

  “How about this,” I said. “Let’s give her time to get home, to adjust. If she was on Nil, she’s probably freaked out. If she wasn’t, she’s still probably freaked out because clearly something bad happened to her. Maybe she was kidnapped, or fell victim to foul play.” I closed my eyes. What the what? I did not just use the words foul play.

  Pulling myself back into the real, sane world where everyone else lived, I opened my eyes. “The only
way this will work is if I talk to Charley alone. I’ll bring Uncle’s Scott’s journal. I won’t press, but I’ll give her an opening to talk.” I gave him a tough-love look. “I’m not letting you freak out some already-freaked-out girl some more. Let me figure out how to approach her, okay?”

  He looked exceptionally guilty.

  “Please tell me you haven’t called her parents already.”

  “I may have left a message.”

  I slapped my forehead with my palm. “Nice going, Dad. Well, let’s still go but don’t count on any information.” I pulled up the calendar on my phone, determined to give Charley some time and protect her from my overzealous dad, who still looked way too hopeful.

  “Let’s try the weekend of the fifth,” I said. “But keep your expectations low, okay?”

  Charley, I thought, if you were on Nil, I’m sorry. And if you weren’t, I’m sorry, too. Either way, lying naked on a French ski slope sounded horrible, especially when you weren’t French.

  Now I felt like a voyeur AND a stalker.

  Two weeks with my dad and I was spiraling quickly into his abyss of crazy.

  That night I stayed up to finish Uncle Scott’s journal. He described City life, island topography, and people in detail so clearly I could see why Dad believed it was real. Moments of beauty and peace transcended the danger, like the night Uncle Scott danced with Jenny until the fiery orange sun set, and then lay on the warm sand, holding her hand, studying the stars. Moments of weirdness stuck out, like the Brazilian boy who refused to wear a loincloth, opting to go au natural on Nil and leaving his man parts on constant display, or the time a sloth appeared in the City and scared the beejezus out of George. Names repeated and vanished; other entries were laundry lists of animals on Nil. There seemed to be an awful lot of cats. I learned that Uncle Scott cut his face when he was surfing and wiped out on the rocks. Jenny dragged him ashore. I didn’t know he knew how to surf.

  I also didn’t know how he managed to get off Nil, or how he broke.

  I do now.

  And the last three entries gave me chills.

  CHAPTER

  14

  RIVES

  DAY 243, ALMOST DUSK