We hiked back, hauling the crippled glider, knowing Natalie was waiting. Unfortunately, Bart found us first. He ambushed us as we approached the Shack.
“Thad,” he started, his nasal whine sending my annoyance level off the charts, “we need to talk. I haven’t been on Search in almost a month. Twenty-nine days.”
“Hello, Bart,” I said, peeling off my fly rig. “No, we didn’t find Kevin. Or his clothes. But thanks for asking.”
“Sorry,” he said. His eyes flicked over Jason before circling back to me. “But I’m due, Thad, you know I am. It’s not fair.”
“It’s not fair,” I repeated, working to keep my voice level. “Really?” Sarcasm seeped in, and then for the first time since Kevin bolted, I lost it. “In case you haven’t noticed, nothing about Nil isfair. It’s notfairthat you landed here. It’s not fair that leaving is a crapshoot andthat every damn day brings you closer to death. And it’s definitely notfairthat our past Leader, who spent months working her butt off for everyone else, is sitting by the fire, wondering if her boyfriend is dead, terrified she might never find out.”
Bart sputtered, waffling between agreement and protest, neither of which I wanted to hear.Why am I wasting my time?I wondered.
I held up my hand. “You’re right. It’s not fair. But that’s how it is. I don’t pick the teams. So if you want someone to pick you, I’d suggest you pull your weight and then some.” I looked evenly at Bart. “And hey, if you don’t like the City rules, you can always leave.”
Bart paled. “Fine.” He turned, then spun back. “You know, losing the knife was an accident. It wasn’t my fault.”
“Yes, it was.” Talla stepped out from the Shack, her blond hair tied in a hard knot. “You didn’t secure it. And you lost it. Your fault.”
“Of course you take his side. Everyone knows you’re after his job. Or maybe you’re just after him.” Bart smirked.
Talla nearly snarled. “All I want is to get home. The sooner the better. Isn’t that whatyouwant?”
“Enough,” I snapped. I was too drained from sweeps to handle much more. “Drop it, both of you. I need to talk to Natalie.”
“Too late,” Talla said. She pointed to the fire, where Jason stood beside Natalie, his arm wrapped around her shoulders and her head hung in defeat.
God, I hated this place.
CHAPTER
5
CHARLEY
DAY 5, LATE AFTERNOON
I should have been a Girl Scout. Or a ninja. Or better yet a Girl Scout ninja with a black belt in self-defense.
That was my latest epiphany as another juicy fish darted past my outstretched fingers. I could forage through the local Kroger and cook up a mean feast of shrimp and grits, but I’d never caught a shrimp or ground a grit in my life. I’d never fished, camped, identified edible plants, or learned how to start a fire without matches. And I sure as heck had never taken karate.
Volleyball camp suddenly seemed lame.
Exhausted, I flopped down on the sand. This morning I’d collected bamboo and palm fronds to craft a shelter at the tree line, something to give me much-needed shade from the midday sun. I’d remembered my geometry teacher rambling on about triangles being the strongest shape in nature, and it turned out he was right. Using bamboo as scaffolding and fronds as coverage, construction had taken most of the day, but the result was pretty awesome, not that there was anyone to see it. The effort had turned my arms to jelly. I was bone tired, and I was hungry. And I was still totally freaking out.
The last five days had been the longest of my life.
I didn’t know where I was or how to get home. I’d seen no ships, no planes, and most disturbing of all, no people.At least none alive, I corrected myself reluctantly. The human skull was never far from my thoughts. A bleached-white skull, half buried in dirt, with my sandal wedged in the empty eye socket. I’d yanked my foot out and run away, and I hadn’t gone near it since.
What happened to the dead-skull person? Did he starve to death? Was he killed? If so, by what?None of these thoughts brought me to a happy place, but then again, right now nothing did. It was like I’d fallen into my own personalTwilight Zoneepisode, and I had no clue how to get out. It had everything to do with that shimmer; I knew it. But I hadn’t seen any shimmers since the red rock field. And believe me, I’d been looking.
At least I’d found food. Strange green fruits hung on trees to the north. I’d watched a bird eat one, so I figured it wouldn’t kill me. I’d picked and peeled two. Although they were as sour as lemons, I’d devoured the green fruit anyway, eating everything but the rind.
Rounding out my all-fruit diet were pineapples and coconuts. Using my rock dagger, I could mutilate a pineapple in a quick minute, but the coconuts were tougher. I’d pierce the shell, tip back the fruit, and chug the milk like I was swigging a Sprite, then after drinking it dry, I’d bang the husk against a rock. But so far every single coconut had refused to break, and I’d been through at least eight. Not even my rock dagger could crack one, and shards of that stuff could slash through almost anything, including my heel, which was still tender and swollen. Soaking my foot in the ocean seemed to be helping, but each time I sat in the sea, fish teased me mercilessly, flaunting their edible selves.
I really wanted fish, even if it meant eating sushi. Unable to capture a fish by hand—I mean, who does that?—I made a spear using materials left over from my shelter project. Okay, less a spear, morelike a bamboo rod with a sharp rock tied to the end with a green palm frond strip. I figured maybe I could whack a fish.
But like cracking coconuts, spearfishing with a crappy, homemade spear proved impossible. Maybe it was my spear, maybe it was my poor technique. It didn’t matter; the result was the same: no fish.
Frustrated, I picked up my worthless spear and chucked it into the sea. The spear flew over the water, skipped once, then sank.Super, I thought, instantly regretting my impulsive throw. If I didn’t find some decent food, I’d disappear, too.
