My legs screamed for mercy, and my chest ached. A deeper ache than the need for air, and in that moment, I knew Nil was right. It was too late.
But I still didn’t know what to do.
CHAPTER
26
CHARLEY
DAY 17, EARLY MORNING
I’d ignored Talla’s advice, and three days later, mine had turned out to be a complete bust.
Worry was eating me alive.
I stepped outside, and disappointment hit me with the morning breeze. No one stood near the Wall. Only a handful of people were near the firepit, and Thad wasn’t among them. I couldn’t help feeling like he was avoiding me, or at least making no effort to see me, and I’d no clue why. All I knew was that my island guide was missing.
And I missed him.
And I hated that I missed him, because he obviously wasn’t missing me.
After grabbing a wrap from the firepit, I sat alone on the black boulder, the same one I’d shared with Natalie and Sabine.Was it really only four days ago?Natalie was gone, on Search. And Sabine was just plain gone. Remembering her face flickering like a horrified hologram, I hoped she was home. Maybe she was with her family right now, eating pastries or whatever they eat for breakfast in France.
Here in nowhereland, I was having a mystery meal wrapped in a thick green leaf.
Expecting fish, I was thrilled to find shrimp. The only thing better would’ve been a big ole pile of cheese grits on the side, but shrimp was shrimp, and this shrimp wasgood. Plump and tasty, it was seasoned with coarse sea salt and chopped fruit.
Six bites, and the shrimp were gone. Nothing remained but wilted greens.
“You know, you can eat the leaves,” a smooth voice said.
I looked up. Rives stood there grinning, holding a plank piled high with wraps and slices of yellow fruit.
“Good to know.” I rolled up a green leaf and took a bite. “Tastes like spinach,” I said, making a face.
He laughed and plopped down beside me. “It’s not spinach. I don’t know what it is; I just know it’s edible. And it’s better with shrimp. Hold out your board.”
I did, and he dumped some fruit slices on it and another wrap.
“Thanks,” I said.
“No problem. And if you want fresh cow’s milk, just ask Jason. It’s warm, but tasty.” Rives raised his cup. “So,” he continued, smiling at me, “what’s your story?”
“The short version? I was in the Target parking lot in Atlanta and a gate grabbed me. Then I woke up here, buck-naked.”
Rives nodded. “The long version?”
I shrugged, smiling. “Now that I think about it, there is no long version. That’s it.”
“You’re wrong.” Rives wiped his mouth. “Everybody has a long version.”
“So what’s yours?” I asked.
“Short or long?” Rives’s light eyes twinkled, in that cocky way a guy’s eyes flash when he knows he’s good-looking. And Rives was.Perfect latte skin, model-worthy dreadlocks, and striking green eyes the shade of summer limeade.
“Either.”
“Grew up everywhere and nowhere, all over Europe and Asia. My dad’s American, my mom’s Swiss-French, but they’re both journalists, so we travel a lot. I was in Phuket when the gate hit. Now I’m here.” Rives popped a fruit slice into his mouth.
