Shipwreck Island (11 page)

“Thanks.” He proceeded to wrap the bun around the dog and yank it off the stick.

Sarah realized that was the longest he'd gone without saying something mean or sarcastic to her.

Nacho asked his brother, “Did you see anything cool?”

Marco took a bite of his hot dog and chewed. “The waterfall. That was awesome.”

“What else?” Sarah lifted and lowered a shoulder. “I mean, there must have been more.” For once, Sarah was annoyed that he didn't want to talk.

“There was a waterfall. And fruit trees,” he said with his full mouth, not taking his eyes off the fire.

Nacho asked, “So what did you see before the waterfall?”

Marco took an especially big bite of hot dog and chewed, not answering. When he had swallowed, he said, “Nothing else.”

John came over to the fire and set down a plate with slices of mango, and some quartered papaya. “I wouldn't say that.”

Marco shot a glance at him.

John grinned at her and Nacho. “We found a house.”

Sarah's eyes widened. “A real house?” As the words left her mouth, she saw a shadow pass over Marco's face as he suddenly looked uncomfortable, or maybe even in pain. He got to his feet and went over to the pile of things from the boat.

Nacho asked, “Can we go live there?”

John shook his head. “It's a ways in.” He motioned toward the lagoon. “We need to stay here, near the beach, so that when the boat comes to rescue us, we can see it.”

“Oh.” Nacho looked as disappointed as Sarah felt. She didn't like being out in the open on the beach like this, much preferring solid walls between her and the outdoors. Not to mention, she really wanted to see that house.

A breeze blew up from the water, causing the flames to flicker. A chill ran up her neck. Sarah looked out at the horizon, where the sun was beginning to lower. “It's not going to storm is it?”

Her dad sank down into the sand beside her and began to roast his own hot dog. “I don't think so.”

“What if it does?” she asked.

John shrugged. “We've got a nice shelter in the trees here. We'll be fine.” He put an arm around her. “You okay?”

She nodded. “I just want to go home.”

“I know.” He squeezed her. “Someone is going to rescue us. Soon.”

“Until then?” she asked.

He grinned. “Until then we sit here on this beautiful beach with this lovely fire and our fresh fruit and relax.” He looked at Nacho. “Right?”

Nacho was well into his third hot dog and could only nod.

Yvonna came and sat down next to John. He took his arm from around Sarah, switched the stick over, and put his other arm around his new wife.

Sarah jumped up and headed down toward the beach.

Marco sat cross-legged in the sand, well above the lapping waves, holding an open book in his lap.

Sarah hesitated, then went over to him. “Wow, you're actually reading?”

Marco didn't reply. He didn't even look up at her. Instead, he paged through the book, snapping the pages as he searched.

Sarah stepped closer. “Is that the bird book off the boat?”

He nodded, but didn't answer.

“Are you looking for something?”

“Yeah.” He sighed, and tossed the book into the sand beside him. “Something I can't find.”

Sarah sat down a few feet away and picked up the book. She started paging through it. “What kind of bird did you see?” She thought it might be fun to show him up, find what he couldn't.

“Don't bother. It's not in there.” Marco sighed and bent his legs, wrapping his arms around them as he stared out at the water.

Although she'd known him for only a few days, she knew it wasn't in his nature to cave like that, give up so easily. In fact, he sounded so dejected that Sarah closed the book. She asked, “What did it look like?”

He mumbled something.

“What?”

Marco said, “That bird—that
thing.
” He shook his head. “I've never seen anything like it before.”

Sarah started to say something, something on the order of “You're not exactly a bird expert, there are probably hundreds of birds you've never seen before…” but she didn't. Instead, she thought about what she'd seen earlier, or thought she'd seen. She shivered. “What did it look like?”

“I don't know.” Marco threw up his hands. “It was this huge bird and I only saw it for a few seconds. It was this red, this amazing bright red, with—” He trailed off.

“With what?” prodded Sarah.

He shook his head. “You won't believe me.”

A visual of that kangaroo creature popped into her head. Sarah hoped she sounded as sincere as she felt. “Try me.”

Marco put both his hands on his face and rubbed his eyes for a moment. When he dropped his hands, he said, all in one breath, “That bird … just wasn't
right
. It had these weird shiny golden eyes and four wings, two big ones in the front and two smaller ones in the back and—”

Four wings?
The bird book in Sarah's hands began to tremble. She whispered, “And what?”

He scrunched his eyes shut, like he didn't want to see himself say whatever was coming next. “It had—” He swallowed. “It didn't have a beak. It had … a mouth. A mouth full of teeth. Like seriously sharp teeth. What kind of bird has teeth?”

Sarah didn't answer. And her hands kept trembling.

If Marco had seen what he thought he had … that meant there was an excellent chance that she had seen what she thought
she
had …

Goose bumps rose on her arms.

Marco said, “You think I'm crazy.”

Sarah slowly shook her head as she turned to meet his gaze. “I don't.”

“Why not?” He rolled his eyes. “I would.”

Sarah looked out to the ocean for a moment and watched the sun start to dip below the horizon. She took a deep breath before telling Marco, “Because I saw something too. Something that wasn't exactly … right.” Before she could tell him about the kangaroo, a wail rose.

The two scrambled to their feet and ran back to the fire as the sound grew in intensity.

Their parents stood by the fire, Yvonna's arms around Nacho, whose eyes were wide.

“Where's it coming from?” asked John.

No one answered.

The sound, a wordless stream of anguish and grief, seemed to come from everywhere at the same time. Sarah dropped the bird book and smashed her hands over her ears. She shut her eyes, hoping it would help, but the sound vibrated in her chest, making it seem like it came from inside her as well as outside her.

Ahab began to howl.

Beneath their feet, the ground trembled. Sarah screamed and reached out for her dad as Marco ran to Yvonna. The five stood in a huddle as the island shook with the sound of the wail.

And then it was gone.

Ahab barked once, then lay down by the fire, his chin on his stretched-out paws.

Once again, they stood on still and stable ground, nothing to hear but the soft lap of waves on the shore and the snapping of the fire.

John started to walk away.

“Dad!” she called after him. “Where are you going?”

He stopped and reached up, took off his glasses, and cleaned them on the bottom of his shirt. Then he replaced them and pointed at the fire. “I think we'd better build that up before nightfall.”

Even though she was not the least bit cold, Sarah shivered.

 

18

Marco lay there, but couldn't fall sleep. His mom and Sarah had used blankets and pillows to make up some halfway comfortable beds around the fire, which John had built up so that it roared. Flames flickered several feet overhead. A large pile of wood lay just outside the circle of stone, so they seemed to be set for the night.

The firelight only stretched a few feet beyond their circle, and Marco tried not to look past where the light licked at the darkness. He had seen—and heard—enough for one day; he didn't care to know what else lay beyond their small zone of comfort.

A few feet away, Ahab was curled up between Nacho and Sarah. Now that Marco realized Ahab was an early-warning system, he liked the dog a lot more. And really, if the dog felt safe enough to sleep, he should be able to. He punched the pillow under his head and lay back down.

His mom and stepfather had their backs to the fire and talked softly. He'd heard them earlier; their plan was to stay awake all night. A little worrisome, really, if they thought they felt the need to stay awake to watch for … whatever might be out
there.

Marco found it impossible to get the picture of that bird thing out of his head. And he wished he'd had time to hear what Sarah had seen. Maybe she hadn't seen anything and just didn't want to be outdone. But his gut told him different. The tone of her voice had been serious, not snarky like she usually was. He believed her when she said she'd seen something. He didn't know how anything could be freakier than that bird.

As he rolled over, he felt a sharp jab in his leg. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the crystal bottle. The fire reflected in it, and Marco shook it slightly. The liquid inside danced, taking on the colors of the flames. He resisted the urge to smell the bottle, as he had before, and stuffed it into the pouch of his sweatshirt before lying back down. Why hadn't he told Sarah about the bottle? Shown it to her?

Marco didn't have an answer.

He shut his eyes, willing sleep to come. Just as he was dozing off, Ahab growled, then began barking.

Marco's eyes popped open and he sat up.

His mom and John were standing up, watching the dog. Ahab barked at the trees, growing louder as he went on.

Sarah and Nacho sat up on their makeshift beds, eyes wide. “Daddy?” called Sarah. “What is it?”

Yvonna went and sat between Nacho and Sarah. She motioned to Marco, and he joined them, standing behind as they watched the dog. Ahab started to move toward the trees, barking so vigorously that spit flew from his snapping jaws. John was closest to him and began to follow, his flashlight beam leading the way. “Boy, what is it?”

Marco saw John freeze as the dog began to lurch toward the trees, growling and barking.

Then his stepfather whipped around, eyes wide, and sprinted back toward them, waving his arms. “Get up! Get up in the trees!” He motioned to the three trees above them.

Ahab suddenly stopped barking and yelped in pain, the sound of his cries fading as he ran off down the beach.

His heart racing, Marco grabbed Nacho and yanked him to his feet. “Go!” They ran to the closest trunk and Marco boosted Nacho to the lowest branch, and Nacho began to climb. Marco reached for his mom, but she pushed Sarah toward him. Nacho blocked the way up that tree, so Marco grabbed Sarah under the arms and boosted her up into the next closest tree, waited until she'd gotten up a ways, then he scrambled up after Nacho.

“Faster!” Marco yelled. He pushed on Nacho's butt, and his brother was able to reach a higher branch where he plopped down and told Marco, “I can't go any farther.”

Marco glanced down. They were a good ten, twelve feet off the ground. Sarah was about as high in the tree next to them, and Marco saw his mom and John in the tree on the other side of them. John shined his flashlight on the ground.

Marco realized he could no longer hear Ahab. The dog must have abandoned them. But what had made him yelp like that? He glanced down at the ground, where the flashlight beam illuminated, and nearly lost his grip on the tree.

Sarah screamed.

Below them were half a dozen brilliant orange crabs, the largest Marco had ever seen. Their legs were about three feet long, deadly looking claws snapping. One sidled its way to the pile of coconuts, selected one, then snapped it in two.

Marco's stomach churned.

“What are those things?” he asked.

John said, “I think they're giant coconut crabs.”

For some reason, Marco felt relieved. As scary as they were, at least they were known creatures that had an actual name, unlike the red bird. Then he gulped. “Can they climb trees?”

John didn't answer the question. Instead, he said, “Find something you can use as a club.”

Marco looked overhead and saw a solid branch about the size of his arm. He braced himself and managed to snap it off. He hefted it in his hand, then smacked the trunk of the tree.

Crack!

Not the best of weapons, but he could annoy one of those things if he had to, at least keep it from climbing up.

“Daddy?”

Sarah's voice wavered and Marco looked over at her. Her face was a pale oval, just visible in the branches. She was alone in the tree, and farthest from the fire. “What do I do?”

John called out, “Sweetie, you'll be fine. Can you find a branch?”

“Why?”

John was quiet for a moment, then finally said, “These things might want to climb one of our trees.”

“What?” Sarah screeched. “Why?”

“It's okay,” said Marco. “Find a stick like this one. See?” He held up the branch. “If they start to climb, you can just poke at them and they'll go back down.” He had no idea if his theory was accurate, but it sounded pretty good.

Apparently, it was convincing enough for Sarah, who was whirling her head about, trying to find a weapon of her own. She reached up and grabbed a branch and pulled, but it resisted.

“Try again,” urged Marco. “You can get it.”

Sarah yanked again, but the thing didn't budge. Her shoulders slumped. “I can't!”

John's voice raised: “Marco!”

Marco swiveled around in his position and watched one of the crabs, what seemed like the biggest, head for the base of Sarah's tree. Marco realized his tree blocked Sarah's view, and that she wouldn't be able to see the crab until it was at the bottom of her trunk. He quickly said, “Let's try another one.” He pointed behind her. “See that branch? Try that one.”