Where would I go?I wondered, watching Thad duck into the hut beside mine.What island?
Thad reappeared. Now he carried a brown satchel, its strap slung across his chest, making his shoulders look even broader.
Ignoring his shoulders, I asked, “Thad, where am I?”
“The City,” he said. “We’re still on the eastern shore of the island, the dry side. If you’ve noticed, it never rains here, but the west gets tons of rain. There’s literally a rain forest over there. There’s also a volcano—”
“Thad, stop.” My voice was sharp. “I mean what island.”
“Nil,” he said flatly. “You’re on the island of Nil.”
“Nil?” I asked, combing my memory. I’d paid attention in social studies. Not to mention I had a weird fascination with maps. One entire wall of my room was covered with a giant world map. I’d studied it for hours, dreaming of all the places I’d like to go. Distant countries, famous cities, remote islands. None were named Nil. “I’ve never heard of it,” I said.
“Neither had I until I got here.”
“But where ishere? What is this place?”
Thad ran his hand through his hair. “To be honest, I don’t know. It just is.”
It just is.
A chilling scene burst behind my eyes: my broken body lying on the pavement, my head cracked and bleeding, the Target bull’s-eye sparkling in the distance as a handful of EMTs stared down at me, shaking their heads.
“Am I dead?” My voice was strangely calm. “Or am I dreaming? Is any of this real?”
“You’re not dead, Charley,” Thad said quietly. “And it’s definitely no dream.” Then he smiled, his tone forcibly lighter as he pointed to my feet. “How are those sandals working out?”
Thrown by his random question, I answered automatically. “Fine.”
“Really? Because they look too big.”
“They’re a little big,” I admitted. “But it’s better than nothing. That red rock was awful.”
“Sharp, eh?” Thad nodded. “C’mon, let’s get you some sandals that fit.” He motioned for me to follow. As we walked, Thad barely made a sound. He had an athlete’s grace—strong, fluid, and confident.
Thad disappeared inside a small rock hut at the edge of the camp. A minute passed, then Thad popped his head back out. “Are you coming?” He looked amused. “I don’t bite.”
I smirked, then followed him inside, searching for a snappy retort, but by the time I thought of one, the moment was gone.
Like the other huts, this one had black rock as a foundation, topped with open wood framing and a thatched roof. Shelves lined the sides and back, filled with neat stacks of ivory-colored cloth, baskets of rags, balls of twine, knives, satchels, more gear I didn’t recognize, and sandals. Lots of sandals.
“This is the Shack,” Thad was saying. “It’s where we store our gear. Sheets, clothes, tools, gourds, rope, you name it. And most important for you, sandals. It’s no Sport Chek, but it works.”
“What’s Sport Chek?” I asked, then instantly felt stupid. Sport Chek sounded like Dick’s Sporting Goods, only with a much cooler name. Either my brain was still asleep or I’d whacked my head harder than I’d thought.
“A sporting goods store back home,” Thad said conversationally, as he sifted through a row of sandals. “Okay,” he said, handing me a pair identical to the ones I was wearing. “Try these. See if they fit better.”
I slid one on. It fit perfectly.
“Impressive,” I said. “You’ve got a future in ladies’ footwear if this island gig doesn’t work out.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. I have other plans, but it’s good to have a backup.” Grinning, he held out his hand. “I’ll take your old ones.”
I passed them over, and as Thad went to stash them on the shelf, he stopped, frowning. Bloody sandal in hand, he looked up. “Are you hurt, Charley?”
Light bounced off his cheekbones, making his face more chiseled than ever, but it was his expression that took me aback. Worried, oddly protective. His blue eyes caught mine, and I stuttered, “No. I mean, I was. I cut my foot my first day here. It’s better now. I soaked it in the ocean.”
“Good call.” Thad set the bloody sandal aside. “Ready?” He tipped his head toward the exit and smiled. My brain was mush.
