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He walked to the water’s edge. The tide pulsed and swirled around his combat boots, slowly soaking the cuffs of his black cargo pants. Even though it couldn’t have been much past two thirty, the sky was a flat gray, the sun already threaten
ing to dip below the horizon. A cloud shifted, shooting a beam of weak sunlight wavering and glimmering along the packed sand. Ronan squatted, peering closer.
“The light will fade quickly now. ” His voice was low, making him sound deep in his own thoughts. He raked his fingers along the wet sand, and for a moment, I lost myself to the image of it. That hand was strong, a man’s hand, with close-clipped nails and skin that was lightly tanned from his time outside, doing things like surfing and teaching us how to survive. He traced his fingers along the shoreline, and it was a slow, languorous movement, almost dreamy, like he was stroking the long hair of a woman.
I gave a sharp shake to my head. What the hell had that thought been? I reminded myself it was that very hand and its hypnotic touch that’d tricked me onto this island in the first place.
“Simply use your senses,” he said. “Even in the moonlight, you can find shells. You can see, and if you can’t see, you can feel the irregularities in the sand. See there. ” He pointed to a spot I hadn’t noticed before, where the sand dimpled. He used his fingers to dig a well around it, revealing the tip of a shell. “Razor shells are common in this part of the world. If you had salt, you could sprinkle it and the shell would pop right up. But”—he dug deeper, till he could snag it with his fingertips and jiggle it free—“you’re clever girls. You need only to pry it up. ”
He held up the shell. It looked like a long, golden-brown fingernail. “There’s meat in here. Not much. But I know from experience—if you’re hungry, it’ll seem a meal, right enough. ” He whipped it back into the water, lobbing it past the breakers, where it landed with a hollow plunk.
He wandered again, scanning the shoreline. Each wave left behind a delicate ruffle of foam and a patchwork of shells and rocks and seaweed. “There is also the limpet,” he said, and it took him no time to find and pluck one of the bumpy gray shells from the sand. “These are even more plentiful. You can’t take two steps on these beaches without stepping on one. ”
He handed it around. It resembled a tiny conical hat and fit nicely in my palm. Whatever creature had lived inside was long gone, and shards of broken white barnacles covered the surface.
“Technically, the limpet is a snail,” he said. “A bit chewy for my taste. ” He’d added the last comment with a shrug and a half smile, briefly catching my eye as he did so. I had the strange—and probably incorrect—thought that he’d said it for my benefit.
“Now it’s your turn,” he said. “You walk the beach, imagining yourself hungry and alone. Search for items you think could give you sustenance. You might be surprised at what you find. ”
A couple of the girls—mostly Isabella and her friends—began complaining at once. “I can hardly see,” one of them griped.
I didn’t bother to check who’d spoken. I just walked away, anxious for a little space to prove myself even further, finding my own selection of awesome foodstuffs.
“Why does this class have to be now?” Isabella asked, closer to me than I’d realized. She’d probably decided to follow me in the hopes that I knew what was going on.
“Yeah, wouldn’t it be better, like, in daylight?” one of her friends said.
“We can hardly see. ”
Ronan spoke as if to a child. “If you are alone, stranded, on a mission, if you’ve risked coming out of hiding, chances are it’s because night has fallen. You must prepare for the worst of circumstances. Were it in my power, I’d hold class in the raining pitch-darkness to make it even more difficult for you. ”
We split up, wandering our separate ways along the beach. I turned my focus to the plentiful and varied detritus that’d been spat from the sea. There were tons of shells, mostly broken, but I managed to scavenge a couple whole ones from ankle-deep in the breakers.
I thought of survival scenarios. If I were weak, starving, and unarmed, how on earth was I supposed to crack these suckers open? It was a good question, but I’d become very competitive and wasn’t about to risk being overheard. You never knew when something like opening a shell bare-handed would be the skill that saved you over someone else. I made a note to ask Ronan later.
I heard girls’ splashing footsteps near me. “Drew’s finding shells,” Isabella said. All her friends but one had wandered off, so it was just her and a tall, skinny, brown-haired girl whose gangly legs made me think of a spider. Her name always escaped me—it was something that sounded wealthy, Tiffany or Whitney maybe—but I just thought of her as some variation of Spidergirl in my head. “Hey,” Izzy told her, “help me look here. ”
I smirked. Fine. They could have the breakers. I had a better idea.
High tide had left a line of debris farther up the sand, like some giant had come and spread a scalloped frill of lace along the length of the beach. Bits of greenery popped here and there, little poofs like tiny bright pom-poms. It was kelp. That stuff wasn’t just edible; it was probably even healthy.
I race-walked toward it and scooped up the first bit I found. It was slimy and yellow-green, looking like nothing I’d ever want to put in my mouth. But it was nutrient rich.
I clutched my prize close, making a beeline for Ronan. I wanted props for this before any other girl copied me and got credit for the idea. It meant I was distracted when the hands grabbed me.
CHAPTER TEN
I flinched, but it did no good. Isabella and her pal had me, one on either side. Their hands were steel bands around my arms. Girlie Long Legs leaned close, whispering at my cheek, “Wanna play?”
“Back off. ” I took a sharp step back but couldn’t break their hold.
Isabella tightened her grip and wrenched me forward. “Or what?”
Her friend grinned, and it wasn’t a friendly one. She dug her fingers deep into my flesh. “She’s all talk, Izzy. Ignore her—she can’t do anything. Isn’t that right, Drew? You’re just a little girl. ” This close, she towered over me. She leaned down enough to tuck her arm snugly into mine. “And like all good little girls, we’re going to play. ”
I twisted, but she was so close, too close for me to get any leverage. I gave a last tug, even though I knew it wouldn’t do any good. “I had no idea you cared. Shouldn’t you buy me dinner first?”
“Freak. ” Isabella gave a hard shove, steering me back toward the shore.
