Lost (4 page)

Cash stared down at her hands. “I know y'all don't believe me.”

Sarah reached out a hand and rested it on Cash's knee. “We saw it too. It's why we came to this cave.”

Cash's shoulders relaxed. “You saw it?”

Marco and Nacho both nodded. Yvonna moved closer to John and he put his arm around her.

Cash shrugged. “That's about it. I ran to the beach here and I saw your camp. I started to write a warning in the sand, and I guess that's when I collapsed.” Her voice sounded hoarse again.

No one said a word. Sarah's dad and Yvonna exchanged a worried glance.

Sarah stared at her hand, frozen mid-stroke on Ahab's head. The red-orb-in-the-sky part was true, she'd seen it with her own eyes. Did that mean the rest was also the truth? Had Cash been a prisoner?

Sarah asked, “So the message in the sand. Beware the—”

Cash's eyes rose to meet hers. “I was trying to warn you. About the Curator.”

A chill ran down Sarah's spine. Ahab nudged her hand with his nose. Sarah began petting him again, but noticed her hand was trembling.

“Well,” said John. “I think we should all get ready for bed.”

Everyone went outside for a bathroom break, and to brush their teeth with small cups of water. Then they settled down, no one saying a word. Sarah snuggled in, Ahab between her and Cash. Except for the blue glow from her dad's watch, the cave was black. Soon, she heard a few snores, and then, more deep, even breathing.

Still, Sarah couldn't sleep.

On the other side of Ahab, Cash let out a deep, ragged sigh.

Sarah reached out, making sure that Ahab was still there. Her hand landed in his soft, plush fur. She whispered to Cash, “You were lucky to escape.”

“Was I?” Cash was quiet for a moment. “I mean, technically I didn't. I'm still stuck on this island.” And in a whisper, she added, “And so are y'all.”

Sarah's heart pounded a little faster. She scrunched her eyes shut and thought about California. She thought about her home and her room and her friends. She wondered whether she'd ever make it back, and found herself wishing she was already there.

 

4

Marco switched on his flashlight. The cave was so dark that anything not in the direct beam remained only a dim, colorless shape. He pointed the light at Nacho. His eyes were shut, his short hair stood straight up. Marco waggled the flashlight, but his brother didn't move.

Then he moved the beam to Sarah. Half her long hair had come loose from her ponytail and was puffed out around her face. She sat up and squinted in the light, then yawned and stretched out her arms, nearly colliding with Cash, who was also awake and stretching.

Cash didn't look as haggard as she had the day before, and she held a hand in front of her face to thwart the light. Then Marco swept the beam and caught the empty bedding where his mom and John had slept. Marco grabbed Nacho's shoulder and shook it gently. “Hey, let's go.”

They gathered up all the bedding so they could carry it, then Nacho, Marco, and Sarah grabbed their backpacks. The four of them trooped outside, where the sun was still fairly low, a glowing peach in the pinkish eastern sky.

Cash yawned.

“Did you sleep okay?” Marco asked.

Cash nodded. “Better than I've slept since I got here.” Her voice sounded much less hoarse.

Sarah asked, “Where's my dad?” She glanced around and called out, “Ahab?”

Marco shrugged. “Mom's not here either.”

“Maybe they went to get the fire going,” said Nacho. He dropped his load of bedding, then lifted his arms over his head and stretched, a huge yawn distorting his face.

“Probably.” But Marco found it strange that their parents would leave them. “Let's head to the beach.”

“What's that way?” Cash pointed to the left, toward the small house that Marco and John had found.

Marco's shoulders tensed and he quickly shook his head. “Nothing.” He tried to keep a neutral expression on his face.

But Sarah stared at him. She asked, “That's where the house is, isn't it?”

“There's a house?” asked Cash.

“Yeah! Let's go to the house,” said Nacho. “Maybe that's where Mom went.”

Marco scowled. “I doubt it.” He pointed the other way. “I really think we need to go to the beach.”

Before Marco could stop him, Nacho jogged off in the direction of the cabin, his backpack bouncing up and down on his back. Cash shot a look at Marco and Sarah. She raised her eyebrows, then piled the pillows she carried on top of Nacho's bedding and followed him.

“Wait!” called Marco.

Sarah set a hand on his arm. “They just want to see it.” She lifted and lowered a shoulder. “
I
want to see it.” She dropped her hand. “It'll just be a quick look, okay?”

Marco nodded.

“You can stay here, if you want,” she added.

“We should stay together.” They both set their loads down and started walking. Marco heard a yelp up ahead and couldn't tell whether it was good or bad. He broke into a run. He heard Sarah behind him, and they emerged in the clearing a few moments later, breathing hard.

Cash was nowhere in sight, but Nacho stood on the front porch, his arms out to the sides, jumping up and down. He stopped when he saw them and blurted, “This is awesome! We should stay here from now on.”

Marco asked him, “Where's Cash?”

Nacho gestured at the open door and headed through it, vanishing right as Marco yelled, “No! Don't go in there.” He huffed in frustration and stomped over to the steps. “Nacho! Get out here.”

Nacho reappeared, pouting. “Why? I just want to see inside.”

“Me too,” said Sarah, who had climbed up the steps. “Only for a couple minutes, then we can head to the beach.”

Marco realized he couldn't keep them out, so he said, “At least let me go first.” He stepped inside, Nacho at his back.

“Cobwebs,” said Nacho. He made a face.

Sarah sneezed. “And dust.”

Cash was stooped over the bed, running her hand over the embroidered scalloped edges of the linens. She turned her head toward them, an odd expression on her face.

“Something wrong?” asked Marco.

Cash straightened up. “Those are the same.”

“Same as what?” asked Sarah.

Cash's gaze slipped to the bed once more. “As when the Curator held me prisoner.” She sighed and crossed her arms. “It's the same material.”

Goose bumps rose on Marco's arms. He wasn't sold on the Curator story, but her own conviction spooked him. “So what are you saying?”

“Nothing.” Cash shook her head. “I'm not saying anything, other than”—she pointed at the bed—“those are the same sheets.”

Sarah said, “Do you think the Curator stayed here?”

Marco said, “I think we should go now.”

No one argued. Nacho was the first to zip out the door, followed closely by everyone else. Nacho stopped, opened his backpack, and removed a bottle of hand sanitizer. “Anyone?”

Three hands shot out.

Nacho held the bottle over Sarah's hand first and squeezed. The entire top blew off, and sanitizer quickly oozed out.

“Oh!” Nacho put his hand under it to try and catch some, but most of it was already on the ground. He held the bottle up. “It's almost gone.” His forehead wrinkled.

Marco set a hand on his shoulder. “You have more.”

“No I don't!” Nacho shook his head. “You made me leave my big bottles at home!” Tears welled up. “You said we would be able to buy more when I ran out!”

Marco held up his hands. “How was I supposed to know we'd get marooned?”

Cash stepped forward and put a hand on Nacho's shoulder. “Sarge says that stuff is bad for you anyway. Your body gets so used to not having any germs that when you do finally get some, it doesn't remember how to fight them off.”

“Well, I guess we'll find out,
won't we
?” Nacho glared at Marco, then sniffled as he shoved the nearly empty bottle in his backpack.

Marco ignored him and led the way through the woods, Cash on his heels, Nacho and Sarah right behind. They stopped by the cave to retrieve the bedding, then set out for the beach. Marco heard Sarah ask Cash, “So, you're twelve?”

“Yeah,” said Cash.

Sarah said, “Me too. So is Marco. His brother is only ten.”

“I'm an only child,” said Cash.

“Me too,” said Sarah.

Marco frowned. Even though he didn't really think of her as his sister, that kind of felt like an insult.

Nacho quietly said, “Not anymore. Now you have us.”

Sarah added, “Well, I meant that I used to be, I guess. They only got married like a month ago, so this is a new thing.”

Again, Marco didn't appreciate the way Sarah sounded so flip, like she was dismissing him and Nacho as a temporary novelty. He wasn't that thrilled with her either, but she was, at least on paper, his stepsister.

As they emerged from the trees onto the beach, they saw the fire blazing. Then, over by the monkey pod trees, Marco saw his mom and John with a stack of long bamboo stalks. Marco dropped the bedding and his backpack on the ground by the fire and jogged over. “What's going on?”

John looked up, a smile on his face. “I found a stand of bamboo.” He rapped on one of the thick green poles with the knuckles of one hand. “Way better building material than trying to use the wood from the boat.” He wrapped a braided rope of vines around a pole and attached it to a large square of bamboo that looked almost the size of a raft.

He pointed at a small machete. “This was in the dinghy. Luckily, it wasn't wet long enough to rust. I'm going to go cut some more in a bit.”

Marco asked, “You want me to come with you?”

His mom said, “No. You are not touching that machete.”

Marco stepped closer.

She was braiding several vines into a thick rope.

John said, “As soon as I get these secured together, we can lift them into the tree. We can make a fairly sturdy platform up there for the bedding. Then we'll have a safe place at night by the beach.”

Marco smiled. He was stoked they wouldn't have to stay in the creepy house
or
the dank cave.

John asked, “How's the girl doing?”

“Fine, I think,” said Marco.

“She has quite an imagination,” John said.

Marco asked, “What do you mean?”

Yvonna said, “Her stories from last night. I think I believe how she came to be here, at least part of it, but that second part…” She shook her head.

“But we saw the red orb in the sky too,” he said.

“Yes, but the rest … A curator, keeping her prisoner?” She shook her head. “I think she likes to tell stories and we were certainly a captive audience.”

Marco's stomach lurched. He knew he had to tell them the truth, about everything he'd seen so far. “Mom, I have to tell you something.”

John crossed his arms and leaned against the trunk of the nearest tree.

Marco looked at him. “You remember in the house? When I saw that bird?”

John nodded.

“It wasn't a normal bird. It had four wings and a mouth, with teeth.”

John smiled. “Oh, come on. You trying to outdo the stories we heard last night?”

“And I found this.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the small bottle. He handed it to his mom.

Her eyes narrowed. “What's this?”

He said, “Just open it.”

She twisted the pyramid-shaped stopper and sniffed. She began to smile at the smell, then her eyes widened. Slowly, she passed the bottle to John. He held it to his nose, then jerked it away. “What is this?”

Marco shrugged. “I don't know.” He took the bottle back, put the top on, and shoved it deep into his pocket. “Sarah saw something weird too. A kangaroo.”

“A what?” John looked at Yvonna. “That's not possible.”

“Mom, something strange is going on here,” said Marco. “That weird wail, and that red thing in the sky. Something is wrong with this place. Did you notice there aren't any birds?”

Yvonna and John looked up at the sky. She nodded. “I had noticed that.”

Marco said, “I believe Cash. And I think you both should too.”

John picked up the machete. “I think the only thing we should do right now is concentrate on getting this tree house built.”

Marco realized he wasn't going to convince them all at once. And making a safe place for them to sleep at night was a good idea, he wouldn't argue that. He asked, “What can I do?”

His mom said, “Get everyone some breakfast first. Then you can all help.” She nodded at a mesh bag. “Take that over there. There's food in it.”

“Okay.” Marco carried the bag over to the others and set it by Nacho.

Cash sat cross-legged, staring into the flames. Nacho began to rustle through the bag of food. He seemed to have moved past his hand-sanitizer crisis of moments before. “Who's hungry?”

Marco asked, “What are the choices?”

Nacho stuck out his tongue. “I wasn't talking to you.”

Marco rolled his eyes. Obviously, Nacho was not
quite
over his hand-sanitizer crisis after all.

Sarah said, “I kind of am.” She looked at Cash, who nodded and said, “Yeah, me too.”

Nacho pulled out a bunch of tiny yellow bananas. “We have these. And … ta-da!” He held up a box of Pop-Tarts.

Sarah's face lit up. “What kind?”

Nacho squinted at the box. “Raspberry.”

“Nice,” said Cash. “I'll take one please.”

Nacho opened the box and handed her a silver packet. “Sarah?”

“I like the brown sugar ones better, but yeah. Hit me.” She held out her hands and Nacho tossed a packet at her.

Marco sat down with the others.