“You’ll make it. You have to. Don’t you dare give up.” My voice dropped two octaves and my eyes stung. “Do. Not. Quit. Okay?”
He smiled, his eyes burning like blue fire, then he kissed me. Fierce but gentle, his kiss was so full of raw emotion that I almost cried right then. But I didn’t. We had a gate to catch.
“We have to move,” I said, pulling back. “The gate will come from the south, so let’s stay close to the red.” I pointed, reviewing the charts in my head.
Yesterday’s gate had been southwest of where we were now but still fairly close, latitudinally speaking. Gates could flash close two days in a row; my quad and Kevin’s outbound showed me that—same for the pair by Black Bay. Thinking of those gates, I thought of something. Something terrible.
I grabbed Thad’s arm.
“Thad, we have to go back! Back to the beach! Remember how Kevin’s gate and my quad came one day apart? The gates were both in the red field. And Jason’s miss at Black Bay came one day after I saw a gateon that same beach. What if when gates flash one day apart, they flash along the same longitudinal line? In the same quadrant? Maybe that’s what the number two represents! And if I’m right, then today’s gate will be back on South Beach, not here! We don’t have much time. We’ve—”
“Stop.” Thad placed a finger over my lips. “Stop,” he whispered. “We went over this last night. We took our time, we thought it through. We picked a latitude north of yesterday’s gate, in the next quadrant on the storm track. And we picked the two most likely hot spots. The most open and the most overdue. That’s here.” Brushing my cheek with his thumb, Thad looked at me, his eyes full of assurance and love and everything else that made him Thad. “Let’s stick with our game plan.”
“You’re right,” I said, shaken. “I’m just—no, you’re right. Let’s stick with our plan.”But it’s not a game.
It never was.
Thad held out his hand, and together we entered the sea of black. Even with Thad’s reassurance, part of me wanted to turn and run, to make us fly back toward the beach. But I kept walking, holding Thad’s hand.
The charcoal ground was as black as asphalt, as black as the Target parking lot that felt a million miles away. A different world, a different me.
We swept the ground for movement. I barely breathed; noon wasnow.
Then the wind stalled.
Fifty yards out, the black ground wavered. Then the black rose and fell away, leaving a rippling luminescence, stretching high and glittering with life.
“Gate at three o’clock,” I cried. “Go!”
Thad stood frozen. He stared at me, not the gate.
“Go!” I screamed, giving him a shake. “Run!”
“Sprint with me, Charley.” Thad held out his hand. “One last time. Please.” His voice broke.
Taking his hand, I ran—anything to make him move. We flew over the black ground, our strides in sync, running together for the last time. The gate writhed ten feet away, drifting north.
Soon we were close enough to see the sparkling prisms of light reflecting the sky, the ground, us. In the reflection, we were distorted silhouettes, and in that moment I knew.
Thad would live.
All my perfect words were trapped in my head, my good-bye lost in the moment. All that mattered was thatThad would live. I squeezed his hand and stepped away.
“Charley, I—” Thad’s face was tortured, and as he raised his hand, the gate collapsed. For one long, horrible second, a tiny black hole hovered inches behind Thad’s shoulder. Then the black speck winked out completely.
Thad’s gate was gone. The wind was back.
And Thad was still here.
I gasped in horror, half expecting him to fall dead at any second. But he stood there, looking stunned and very much alive. Our eyes locked in mutual shock.
Then the air went slack.
I sensed the stillness, even before I saw the glimmer. Behind Thad, a gate stretched languidly into the sky, eight feet away, at most. It was a second chance—a final chance, and this time Thad’s escape was guaranteed. The gate drifted toward us; he didn’t even need to run. It was meant to be, like us. Thad’s luck had finally turned, and Nil was giving us the chance to say a proper island good-bye.
I threw myself into Thad’s arms, overcome by a profound sense of peace. “I love you. So much.”
Thad held me close, not saying a word.
