AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Anything?” Brian asked her, not sure if he meant anything creepy or anything encouraging. Anything at all, probably.
Ms. Zintner just shook her head. Her blond hair stuck to her neck. She was kneeling on pebbles, glaring at the radio lying on the ground in front of her. “Why does technology never work when you need it to?”
Ollie was sitting with her dad, their backs against the same flat rock. He had his eyes closed. Ollie had huddled up as close to him as she could, with the foil blanket around them both. She’d put her purple beanie on his head. She glanced at her watch, then back to the lake. The shadows flickered, the sun moved, the temperature was dropping.
“Anything new?” Brian asked.
Ollie shook her head, still staring at the water. But then she turned to look at Brian, and he saw her face was pale and scared. He’d never seen her looking so scared, even when there were scarecrows getting ready to grab them.
“Dad’s cold,” she said. “He’s really cold.”
Ms. Zintner swore at the radio, then abandoned it and came over to them. “I’ll start a fire,” she said.
“It’s okay,” said Brian. “I’ll do it, Ms. Zintner. I’m good at fires.” He dropped his bundle of sticks and got to work. He was good at fires. He couldn’t help but notice that the big orange smoke signal had died down, but there was no sign of anyone on the water.
“How you doing, Dad?” said Ollie.
Mr. Adler’s eyes slowly opened. His lips were cracking. “Been better,” he said. “How’s that rescue coming?”
“Not too good,” said Ollie. “No one’s seen us.” She swallowed. “Dad—we might have to spend the night. On this island.”
“That’s okay,” said her dad, his eyes drifting shut once more. “S’okay—it’ll be like camping . . . just like camping.”
“Dad?” said Ollie, her voice going shrill. “Dad!”
Ms. Zintner put her fingers up to Mr. Adler’s neck, checking his pulse. “Just asleep, Ollie,” she said. But she looked frightened. Almost as frightened as Ollie. Ollie glanced down at her watch again, her shoulders hunched small.
Brian was struck again by the thought that Ollie knew more than she was saying about that countdown. But he didn’t want to press her. Not when he needed to hurry back into the trees to get them more firewood. Not when Ollie looked so frightened. He wished he could do something else for her. He wished he had a snake-venom cure or a boat-calling spell. But all he could do was make a fire and wait.
Brian struck a match and ignited the handful of pine needles he’d grabbed for kindling. The pine needles caught fire fast. Brian breathed on the tiny flames, trying to make them catch. When he had a tidy fire going, he said, “I’m going back to help the others with the wood. Don’t let the fire go out, okay?”
“Thanks, Brian,” said Ms. Zintner, smiling at him.
As Brian trudged toward the woods, he glanced back. Ms. Zintner had put her arm around Ollie, and he could see, as she turned her head into the light, the shine of tears on Ollie’s face.
10
IN THE WOODS, the shadows were getting longer and longer. It would be dark soon.
“Coco!” Brian called when he got into the trees. “Phil?”
Silence met his call. He felt a little cold finger of dread creep down his spine. A few minutes ago, they’d been stepping on branches and calling to each other in the gathering shadows.
“Hey!” he bellowed. “Coco! Phil!”
Still nothing. He started to push through the woods, calling their names. The silence seemed to drill into his head. Where were they?
He stopped to listen again. This time he heard Phil shout. Brian hurried toward the sound. The hair on the back of his neck was prickling. They’d left the lake monster in the water, along with the Cassandra. But—who had put the carving on the tree? Who had been on the radio? What was waiting for them, on this still, silent island?
“Phil!” he yelled. “Phil, where are you?”
“Here!” yelled Phil.
Brian angled again in the direction of Phil’s voice, pushing through the branches. There weren’t any paths, just different thicknesses of undergrowth.
Brian almost plowed into Phil; he hadn’t been that far away. The dense trees muffled and turned sounds.
Phil was standing in the middle of a clearing, frowning down at the ground. Brian followed his line of vision. What was that? It looked like trash. A giant heap of it, like a tarp or plastic, a clear grayish-white. Winding around the trees.
