Something bumped my ankle. I pivoted to protect Charley, already in motion even as my head canceled the threat.
A black kitten wobbled near my leg. I thought of Burton, wondering how he was faring in the land of hidden hyenas and wild dogs.Maybe he’s home, I thought,wherever that is. Maybe he’s even in Canada. Burton on snow made me smile.
Charley misinterpreted my expression.
“I know! It’s so cool, right?” She rolled up her rubbing andtucked it away with her maps. “Let’s go. I want to make it back before nightfall, and if there’s time, go by the Arches.”
Jason barely glanced at the rock carving. “I’m on board with Charley’s plan to bail. I found a dog carcass, and I don’t want to be lunch.”
And that was that. We took the straight shot back. As the day progressed, there was no more talk of a detour to the Arches. Maybe Charley had decided against it, maybe she knew I’d shoot it down. All I cared about was food and a bed, and the Arches had neither.
By the time we made it to the City, it was dark. Charley held a torch while I carved Natalie’s check.Let the City wake to good news, I thought.
Then, totally exhausted, we fell into bed.
I wrapped my arms around Charley. She laid her head on my chest, and tucked in the semi-safety of the A-frame, I’m not sure which of us fell asleep first.
CHAPTER
43
THAD
DAY 300, DAWN
My dreams were twisted, full of mazes and screams, packed with wild cats and hunters with no faces. I woke at dawn, restless and edgy. From my dreams, and from the day’s reality.
Today was Day 300.
It felt like a turning point. I was on the backside of the mountain now. Flying too fast, maybe out of control.
Charley’s eyes were closed, her breathing soft and even. I knew if I lay here much longer, my head would explode or I’d twitch, waking her either way. I also knew Charley needed her rest.
Careful not to wake her, I slipped out. My first order of business: check in with Rives. I’d no intention of mentioning Charley’s latest discovery or her fascination with the carvings. For me, yesterday’s find was solid confirmation that each of us had a bull’s-eye on our back and Nil held the gun. End of story.
I found Rives on the beach, eating a mango.
“Sweet news on Nat,” he said, thumping my shoulder.
“Definitely.” I grinned. “So what’s the report?”
“Johan’s team came back two days ago. Never saw a gate, Raj sawthe tiger on night two, and on day three, their camp was hit. Food stolen, weapons too. Even extra clothes. Gone.”
Animals don’t steal weapons, people do. And naked people steal clothes. “Did they see who?”
“Two boys. Skinny, young.”
“But no one got hurt.” My statement held a question.
“Right.”
“That’s good.” I wondered if the raiders knew about the gates and the time limit. And I wondered if they were the ones who had hit the Shack.
“That’s not the good.” Rives smiled. “The good is that Quan didn’t go renegade, the knives are back, and we have another newb. Sergio. He’s Italian, and get this: his dad was a carpenter, and he can make anything. With wooden nails.” His grin grew.
“Handy,” I agreed. But I was still thinking of the knives. Their return said it wasn’t raiders; it screamed inside job.All that matters is that the blades are back, I told myself.
Rives was on a roll.
