She reached for a fork and studied it. “Where did you get this?”
“A storeroom in one of the buildings. Why?”
“There’s something familiar about it. I’ve seen this before,” she explained, pointing to an emblem on the handle.
Rose didn’t wait for Alice to continue before revealing her discovery: a bag full of pawpaws. I hadn’t eaten one of the delicious, succulent fruits since the previous year. Just the feel of the smooth green skin in my hand made my mouth water.
“Are there more?” asked Alice as we all helped ourselves.
“No. There were lots on the ground, but they were rotting. Must’ve been the storm.”
“One piece each, then. We have to ration ourselves until we know how much we have.”
Before anyone could complain, Alice unwrapped a blanket and laid her discoveries before us. Then there was a different kind of silence.
There were pecans, blackberries, huckleberries, figs, and elderberries. She’d even found grapes. We hadn’t eaten so well since Ananias and Eleanor became Apprentices.
While the others cracked the nuts and gorged on berries, I watched Alice. Food wasn’t all she’d found. She pulled a length of rope from her bag, and a canvas sheet.
“Where did you find all this?” I asked.
“Just . . . around. Go ahead and eat. I’ve had my fill.”
I didn’t eat, though. I couldn’t, until I knew the truth. “How did you know about the building with the clothes? You took Dennis straight there.”
“Got lucky, I guess.”
I had to stifle a laugh. “And the fruit and nuts were just lucky too, right? Come on, Alice. We’re in this together.”
Alice pursed her lips and pulled something from her dune box. She laid it gently on the ground, and carefully unfolded it until it filled the space between us.
It was a map, but unlike any I’d seen—impossibly large and precise. It might have been even bigger once, but now a tear ran vertically along the left-hand side where the mainland ought to have been. Everything about Roanoke Island was indicated on it: elevations, forests, even roads and buildings that surely didn’t exist anymore. The island filled the center of the map, with Hatteras Island pushed to the far right-hand side like an afterthought.
No one in our colony could have created anything so perfect, I was sure of that. But then, where had it come from? Surely not Skeleton Town. The state of the buildings suggested a terrible past. How could a flimsy paper map have survived if stone couldn’t?
Something didn’t make sense. As I looked at the expressions on everyone’s faces, it was clear they knew it too.
CHAPTER 12
I found the map in the dune box,” explained Alice.
We scanned it together. The Guardians had taught us how to visualize the land and water since we were young. It was important to get our bearings, they’d say—necessary for tracking animals and planting seeds. But who could have compiled all this information?
“Some of these words have been added,” I said, pointing. “The handwriting is different.”
“It may have been one of the Guardians. This is where I found the rope,” said Alice, placing a finger beside the word store. She moved it to the left a little, where the word grove had been scrawled. “And here’s where I found the fruit.”
“Why keep this map from us?”
Alice shrugged. “I didn’t find much at these places. I picked all the fruit and nuts. I figure they kept it a secret because supplies were short. Same with the clothes, maybe.”
“You don’t seem surprised,” said Rose.
“I’ve always wondered about this place. Something just doesn’t add up.”
My mind was racing. What Alice said made sense, but our lives could have been so different with extra clothes and food. Yes, Skeleton Town was hazardous—unstable buildings and a sea of broken glass—but we’d survived so far. There was even a functioning water tower.
“Eat up, Thomas,” said Alice, interrupting my thoughts. “We’ll save the leftovers for breakfast.”
Rose stood. “I’ll take first lookout. Just switch places with me whenever you wake up.”
“You don’t know where it is.”
“So show me.”
I pictured Rose all alone. What if she missed the pirates’ approach? What if something happened to her? “I’ll go too.”
Alice raised her eyebrows. “How will you see across the sound?”
“Same as you. Binoculars.”
“Aren’t you tired?”
“I’ll be fine.”
Alice looked at me, and then at Rose. “Of course you will.”
* * *
We climbed the rickety stairs to the lookout and chose an area beside the crumbling east-facing wall. Through one of the bigger holes I saw bonfires burning on Hatteras Island. The pirates were planning to stay.
When Rose and I were settled, Alice walked down the stairs, her eyes flitting between us the whole way.
Rose spoke first. “I’m glad you’re here.”
I watched her from the corner of my eye. The moon was behind her, and her face was in silhouette—her gently sloping nose, lips parted by the smallest degree. I could hear her breathing. “Me too.”
I was sure she wanted to say more. So did I—how much I liked talking to her, even though it felt more awkward every day; how I started each morning by watching her walk along the beach before the sun grew too strong; how I thought about her even when she wasn’t around. How I wanted to touch her so much it was killing me.
Instead, the silence sat between us, thick and heavy. Rose stared into the distance. I continued to watch her, her chest rising and falling with every breath.
“How are your hands?” I asked. “Can I see?”
I reached for her bandaged left hand, but she pulled back suddenly, even leaned away from me. My hand hung in midair.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She stared at her hands. “I—”
“It’s okay. They hurt. I shouldn’t have tried to touch them.”
“No. It’s . . .” Her mouth was open as though she were about to explain. Or better yet, change her mind. Finally she shrugged. “I’m sorry,” she said again.
I felt bad for her injuries, but hurt was mixed in too. Every word she spoke told me how much she liked me; every action said the opposite. The distance between us seemed to shrink every day, then grow larger than ever in the blink of an eye. What was I supposed to think?
“I guess I should go to sleep,” I said. “Promise you’ll wake me when you get tired?”
“I will.”
I lay down and stretched out. At first, I heard nothing but the wind as it brushed the late summer marsh grass. But then there was another sound: short, ragged breaths . . . sobbing.
I closed my eyes and thought of all the things I wanted to say to Rose. All the ways I wanted to comfort her. But really, what could I say or do for a girl who kept me at arm’s length?
* * *
I woke abruptly as Rose’s elbow connected with my nose. She grunted once, loudly, but after that her breathing was quiet and even. Her tunic rose and fell with each breath. With her blond hair draped loosely across her arm, she looked beautiful.
My breath caught. How long had she been asleep?
I shuffled over so that I could see across the sound. The bonfires in the distance were still burning. But so was another, much closer than before.
I grabbed the binoculars and pressed them to my eyes. I wasn’t imagining it—the pirates had advanced to Pond Island in the middle of the sound. They stood in a group at the far end of the bridge. They’d halved the distance between us.
Did they already know we were here?
A part of me wanted to wake Rose, remind her what was at stake. Alice would never have fallen asleep on wat
ch. But what good would it do?
“You planning to watch her all night?”
I hadn’t heard Alice approaching—not even a footstep on the stairs. Who knew how long she’d been there? “I wasn’t watching her. I was just—”
“You don’t need to explain.” She knelt beside Rose and shook her awake. “You can go now.”
Rose turned to face us, bleary-eyed and confused. “Oh.”
She sloped away, dragging her blanket behind her.
Alice took her place. She pulled her knees up and wrapped her arms around them. She was wearing different clothes than before: a black vest that left her shoulders bare, and black shorts that made her legs seem longer than ever. I was about to mention the clothes, but hesitated. I wasn’t sure why.
“Pond Island already,” Alice announced, all business. “Just a small group, though.” She pointed. “How many men can you count in the firelight?”
I focused the binoculars on the fire. “Four, maybe.”
“Right. Means they don’t know we’re here, but they’ve put a sentry post there just in case. They’ll be watching Roanoke for sure. We need to be careful.”
“What if they cross the bridge?”
“They will, but not yet. Crossing the gap wouldn’t be safe at night. It’s not even safe during the day.”
Hearing her mention the gap in the bridge reminded me of the map. “Did you see that the word gap was written beside the bridge in the same handwriting as grove and store?”
“I thought you’d missed that.”
“No. I’m just not sure what it means. I can imagine the Guardians planting fruit trees, but there’s no way they could make holes in a bridge, right?”
“I don’t think so, but I’m not sure about anything anymore.” She puffed out her cheeks and exhaled slowly. “Did you notice there weren’t any birds or animals on Hatteras when we crossed earlier?”
“No. I wasn’t really paying attention to that.”
“Hmm. I looked around for the horses, but I couldn’t see them.” She snorted. “Listen to me, worrying about wild horses. Weird, isn’t it? With everything that’s happened, it’s the horses I can’t forget.”
Weird, yes—but not surprising. Alice had always loved watching the wild horses on Hatteras. She’d managed to get one to eat from her hand once. After that, they’d ventured closer to the colony, taking the food we left out for them.
It dawned on me then that we’d all miss the colony in different ways.
“The horses probably ran away when the pirates set fire to the cabins,” I said.
“I suppose so.” She didn’t sound reassured. “Listen, I found something else today.”
“Here on Roanoke?”
“Yes. Two sailboats. Inside a covered boathouse.” She was breathing faster than usual. “Some of the cleats have rusted. I don’t know if they’ll still float, let alone if they’re seaworthy. But they look good.”
“What about sails?”
“They’re there—folded in bags. I didn’t have a chance to look at them, but I want to go back. If we need to escape, a sailboat might be our best chance.”
I wasn’t sure about that. It had been a struggle to convince Dennis not to surrender to the pirates immediately, so escape was surely the last thing on his mind—at least until we knew what had happened to our families.
“Where’s the boathouse?” I asked.
“A mile and a half to the southwest.”
“That’s all? So the Guardians must’ve known about them.”
“Yes.”
“Why would they hide two extra sailboats from us?”
“I don’t know.”
I focused on the bonfire a mile away. It was true—the pirates would cross eventually. Which meant that we were running out of time to explore Roanoke Island. Alice had unearthed pieces of the past, but what if there was still more? The pirates had weapons; maybe there were some here as well. Skeleton Town was full of secrets, and it was time for answers.
Alice watched me stand. “What are you doing?”
“Going to explore. There’s stuff here we can’t explain. The sooner we know what we have to work with, the sooner we can make a plan.”
She handed me my bag. “In that case, bring everything. It’s not like we’re saving it for anyone.”
I ran along the road into town. Occasionally the animal noises of night drifted on the breeze, but otherwise I could have been the only person in the world.
I figured I’d start by heading for the storeroom I’d found earlier. I was sure I could find it in the dark, and fill my bag with what remained on the shelves. But as I was about to enter the building, I heard a sound behind me.
It stopped me dead.
It was between a rustle and a scrape, like a branch dragged across the ground. I spun around, but saw nothing. It could have been a bird or an animal—I didn’t know. Now the world was hushed again.
I held my breath and honed my senses to the whispers of sound around me. Animal or not, something about the sound had felt out of place—just like the noises I’d heard during the storm the night before, though clearer without wind and rain drumming in my ears.
I heard it again, this time from the building next door.
The clinic.
I crept along the street and slid through the clinic’s glass door. I’d only taken one step when something flashed before me: a sleek animal with striped fur. In the moonlight that filtered through the glass I thought I recognized it too; from its size, and movements, and coloring, I was sure it was a cat—the first one I’d seen in years. It paused momentarily, but seemed wary of me and padded away. I stayed close and tried not to lose sight of it.
To my surprise, it became clearer the farther it went. Around us, darkness gave way to a faint amber glow that seemed to come from the back of the clinic. I pressed forward. I shut out everything except the light before me, growing steadily brighter.
The cat slid around a corner and didn’t return. I barely noticed. Now I was transfixed by something far more remarkable.
A lantern not much bigger than my hand sat on an otherwise empty table. Watching it, I felt as though a wildfire had been caught and tamed especially for me. Only there was no flame.
I took a deep breath and reached forward, touched the glass dome on top. I expected to feel heat and pain, but felt neither. As the beams slid around my fingers and danced against the ceiling and walls, a single thought filled my mind: Is this how it feels to have an element?
Slowly, cautiously, I picked the lantern up. A thin black cord connected it to a wall, but fell away when I moved. After that, I stood still, mesmerized by the experience of directing my own personal sun. True, it felt uncomfortable in my hand—there was a dull ache that I hadn’t noticed before—but I was too exhilarated to care. I’d discovered something that might really help us.
I made my way back through the clinic, and ran along the road, desperate to show my prize to Alice. I almost tripped, so I held the lantern in front of me to illuminate the ground. My breathing, already heavy, accelerated until it kept pace with my footsteps.
But I wasn’t alone.
One moment I was surging toward the intersection. The next, something knocked the lantern from my grasp. It clattered loudly as it hit the ground, already extinguished. Blind and off-balance, I tumbled after it, elbows and knees scraped and torn.
I swallowed the pain and fought to keep quiet.
A shadowy figure appeared beside me. From the corner of my eye I saw a knife blade reflecting in the moonlight.
CHAPTER 13
I rolled away. Leaped up. Raised my fists. But the lamp’s afterglow remained in the center of my vision, blinding me.
“What are you doing, Thom?”
“Alice?” I squinted as her figure became clear. “What am I doing? You attac
ked me.”
“I didn’t know it was you.”
“I was carrying a lantern. Couldn’t you see me?”
“No. I just heard footsteps. I saw a glow above the buildings. I knew you didn’t have a lantern, so I thought . . .” She hung her head as she slid the knife back into its sheaf.
“Well, I don’t have one anymore! It was amazing, like ten candles all in one, but no flame. I’ve never seen anything like it.” I wiped blood from my knees. “Did you see where it went?”
“No. Sorry.” She waited for me to forgive her, but I couldn’t. Not yet. “Follow me,” she said.
I hobbled after her. A few yards later the buildings ended at the intersection. Just across the road to our right was the shelter. To our left, the road led to the sound.
She pointed toward the water. “What do you see?”
“Nothing. Just the outline of the bridge. And the pirates’ bonfire.” As soon as I said it, I had to look away. I knew what was coming.
“Light carries. The pirates are watching Roanoke Island. If you’d made it this far they’d have seen the light. They’d know we’re here.”
She was right, of course. I’d been too excited to think of anything but the lantern.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t thinking.”
“It’s all right.”
“No, it’s not. I could’ve given us away. I need to be smarter than that.”
She hesitated. “Well, I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to hurt you. You’re the last person I’d want to hurt.”
Our eyes met for a moment and then she stared across the sound again. “Why don’t you go back to the shelter? Get some sleep.”
“No. I’m fine. Really.” I began limping toward the lookout. “How did you get to me so quickly, anyway?”
“I told you: I heard your footsteps.”
“But you were all the way at the lookout.”
“Sound carries almost as well as light around here. Anyway, I’m a fast runner.”
“You can say that again.” I rubbed more blood from my knees. “My goal for tomorrow is not to get sliced up in Skeleton Town.”