“Did Thad mention the Covenant?” Natalie changed topics like most people blinked.
“No.”
“Well, if you put your name on the Wall, you’re agreeing to abide by the Covenant. It’s just a pledge to do your part, to support the City and the Searchers. There’s plenty of food on the island, but we’ve got to catch it, pick it, and sometimes cook it, and that takes time. Other people repair gliders, make clothes, whatever. We all support the Search teams. That’s the whole point of the City. So, if you want to stay here in the City, you’ve got to figure out something to contribute. It’s just the way the City is.”
She must have read my face because she said, “It’s not as scary as it sounds. It’s just that there aren’t that many of us, so to support the teams, those staying behind keep the City running. It’s more like a camp than a City, but it’s ours.” There was pride in her voice, the same pride I’d heard in Thad’s earlier this morning.
“Does anyone not stay?” It sounded like a really bad idea.
“Occasionally newbs go off alone. Sometimes they come back, sometimes they don’t.” Her matter-of-fact tone gave me chills. “It’s a personal choice, but I hope you’ll stay.” She smiled.
After being alone for twelve days, I had no urge for a solitary jungle quest. And part of me worried that Nil harbored secrets making snakes look downright warm and fuzzy.
“I’m in,” I told Natalie. “I’ll figure out something to contribute.”
Easier said than done. I couldn’t spear fish, weave a stupid net, or make fire. I’d no clue how to bake island bread. At home I made cakes from a box.
Maybe I could make soap.
“Charley,” Natalie said hesitantly, “would you like to bunk with me? It’d be nice to have a roommate again.”
Somehow I knew who her old roommate was. I’d been wearing his clothes.
“Sure. And—I’m sorry about Kevin.”
“I’m not.” Her voice was fierce. “He made it.”
I meant I’m sorry you miss him.But feeling awkward, I let the subject drop.
“So how long have you been here?” I asked.
“Too long.” Natalie traced the edge of her coconut cup with one finger. “So long that home seems like another life.”
Sabine came back, a welcome diversion.
“Sorry,” she said. “Got caught up with Sham. He found a plant I’ve been looking for.” Sabine babbled on about plants and herbs, most of which I missed; her accent was entrancing. So was her grin.
“Sabine’s the one who found the deadleaf,” Natalie offered, smiling. “If you crush the leaves, it makes a numbing salve, which is a huge help. The fruit’s poisonous, but Sabine uses the seeds to brew a tea that works like a sleeping potion after it ferments. It’s what knocked you out last night, when you were hurting after you started to wake up. It’s the closest thing to Tylenol PM that we’ve got.” A wistful look passed over her face. “Would’ve been nice for Kev to have had some when he broke his arm. But at least now he’s home, in the land of Motrin and orthopedic surgeons. Sometimes I think that’s the best thing I’ve ever done here. Setting his arm, making sure he didn’t lose it. He wants to be a surgeon. Anyway”—she took a deep breath—“let’s take a look at your head.” Natalie talkedfast; I had to work to keep up.
Natalie’s fingers danced across my scalp. “Looks good. Just don’t mess with it, okay?”
“Okay.” As if I wanted to touch blood. Dried, fresh, mine, someoneelse’s, it didn’t matter. Blood gave me the willies, in any form. No island medicine for me.
Soon the breakfast area cleared, of food and of people. Again I felt grateful to Natalie, a stranger who took care of me last night and kept me company today. But I couldn’t help noticing that my island guide was still missing.
Sabine stood. “Let’s go see how things are shaping up for tonight.”
“Tonight?” I asked, feeling lost, again.
“Tonight’s a Nil Night,” Natalie said, smiling impishly. “We have one to celebrate whenever someone makes it home. Like Kevin.” She positively beamed. “And to welcome newcomers—like you.” Seeing my face, she laughed. “Don’t worry. It’s no big deal.”
Big deal or not, I hoped the spotlight stayed on Kevin rather than me. As the newest contestant, I felt conspicuous enough.
As we cut through the trees, the unmistakable smell of roasting meat filled the air. “Someone’s smoking something,” I said, taking a deep breath. Even though I’d just eaten, my mouth watered like I’d just walked by a pregame tailgate at UGA.
Sabine made a face. “It’s the hog. Don’t worry, Charley, you don’t have to eat it.”
“Have to? Iwantto. I haven’t smelled anything this good in weeks.”
