“They’ll die here if we don’t free them.”
Brennan stepped out of the shadows and shouldered his backpack.
“Melodrama alert.” Seeing my face, he hesitated. “Let’s sleep on it, okay?”
I wanted to tear into him, but getting into an argument now wouldn’t do any good. Taking a deep breath, I stood and twisted my hair into a bun, securing it with what looked like innocent hair sticks—knives, after all, weren’t allowed in school.
“Okay.” I jerked my lips into a smile and picked up my backpack. “There are sandwiches in the truck, right?”
Changing
took a boatload of energy, so we were always ravenous once we returned to land. Peanut butter was more filling than crayfish—and didn’t take nearly as much effort to catch.
“Two for me, none for you,” Brennan joked.
“Not if I get there first,” I shot back. Falling into comforting, well-worn banter, we headed up the dark path to the truck.
We never did see the camcorder propped in the trees, watching us go.
For more information on Andrea Colt and her books, please visit
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Table of Contents
Table of Contents
Exerpt from ULTRAVIOLET CATASTROPHE