Leaving the water, I wandered south.Maybe I’ll find a nut tree, I thought optimistically. Then I prayed I’d know an edible nut if I saw one.
I passed the thick stand of bamboo, then the grove of palms, but desperate for more than coconut milk, I kept going, venturing farther south than ever. The vegetation thinned as the bay curved toward the sea, ending at a stern cliff. Black and massive, the cliff was bare rock. Near the base, a small bush with glossy green leaves grew alone. Tucked inside the leaves were bumpy yellow fruits.
More fruit, I thought without enthusiasm, but at least this fruit offered variety. The bush looked healthy, the warty fruit less so, and as I went to pluck a yellow fruit, the unmistakable stench of vomit hit me in the face. Gagging, I stumbled away, working not to retch.
Leaving the stinky plant, I climbed. The cliff was riddled with openings, perfect for hands and feet. I fell into an easy rhythm, and after turning the bend, I found myself inside a series of massive rock arches.
The view was stunning.
Blue sky filled the openings, perfectly framed in black. Below me, water hissed and spit against rocks, churning white on black. I turned in a slow circle, and something caught my eye. Something smooth in a wash of crags.
The largest arch, still a volleyball court’s distance away, boasteda large flat spot at eye level. No, not flat, at least not totally. Fissures graced the rock face, too uniform to be natural.
Intrigued, I hiked closer. A carving decorated the rock face: a maze, etched in a perfect circle, with a human figure in the very center.Like a primitive cave drawing, I thought. But the longer I studied the carving, the more I realized the maze was too symmetrical to be primitive; it was more like one of those freaky designs that pop up on cornfields overnight. But that wasn’t right either. Given the level of detail, this glyph was no overnight sensation. The human figure at the epicenter suggested the carver was human, or maybe that’s what I wanted to believe. What Ineededto believe. Despite my gruesome skull discovery, I hadn’t shaken my alien planet worry.
I wasn’t sure how long I stood there, tracing the rings and trying to discern meaning from their existence. Long enough for my legs to cramp. Long enough for my stomach to rebel. Long enough for the air to turn cool.
The chill snapped my reverie. Looking up, I saw that the sun had dropped, and I couldn’t scramble away fast enough. I didn’t want to be caught out here at night.
Leaving the rock arches took longer than I expected. My original pathways were blocked by the tide, forcing me higher to avoid being crushed against the rocks by churning water. By the time I made it back to my hideout, I was shaking and sweating. And I wasstarving.
Unfortunately, coconuts were the only choice I had.
I drained one quickly, but gagged on the sweet milk and fought to keep it down. Wracked with stomach cramps, I longed for a bagel, or toast. And a Sprite. A fountain Sprite, on crushed ice, lemon-limey sweet with just enough bubbles to settle my stomach. Holding my stomach, I shuddered. Then, watching the sun drop close to the water, I shuddered again.
The nights were a million times worse than the days.
Nights were pitch-black, full of claustrophobic, creepy darkness.Nights were when the shakes came, from cold, and from fear. I was absurdly terrified of nighttime critters, not just weird bird men or potential aliens. My greatest fear was snakes. I’d developed an almost paralyzing fear of them, ever since I’d found a cottonmouth sleeping in my Rollerblade when I was six. I knew my snake phobia wasn’t totally rational—that I had more to worry about right now than snakes—but for all I knew, the dead-skull person had died of a snakebite. I’d spent the last four nights huddled against a tree, armed with my rock dagger, waiting. I’d been stood up, at least by anything creepy, but I’d barely slept.
And now the darkness was back.
I jogged over to a large black rock on the sand and curled beside it, soaking up the residual warmth from the sun. For the first time, I stayed on the beach as night fell, watching the stars come out. As the constellations took shape, I blinked. There was the Little Dipper, glowing brilliantly against the clear night sky, with Polaris shining brightest of all.
I was on Earth, but I had no ideawhereon Earth I was. Or when.
I was totally alone.
Like a rubber band stretched past its limit, I broke. I bawled, like Em after the car accident, but not like Em, because there was no one to hold my hands and tell me everything would be okay. Nothing was okay, especially me. I wept until I was as empty as the beach around me and then I lay there, spent. Still cold, I no longer shook. I was oddly numb.
I’d just dozed off when a crunching sound echoed like an alarm.
The noise intensified, then stopped. Silence rushed in, louder than before. Pressed tight to my rock, I listened. A twig cracked, then another, snapping as crisply as the break of dry bones. A whoop, guttural and plaintive, reverberated through the night air.
Something was moving through the trees behind me. Something that didn’t sound human.
Something that just might be as hungry as me.
CHAPTER
6
THAD
DAY 271, NIGHT
“Nat—”
“No.” Her face was set, like her mind. It wasn’t the first time she’d reminded me of my kid sister, Holly.
