No Survivors (3 page)

April grabbed Kristen's arm. “She's in the tree! She's watching us!”

They heard a cough.

The tree branch creaked, and the leaves parted.

April stared up at a middle-aged man in blue shorts and a blue T-shirt. He held a video camera in one hand.

“Sorry if I scared you,” he called down. “We're supposed to stay out of sight.”

April's mouth hung open. She took a deep breath, trying to force her heart to stop racing.

“I—I thought you were someone else,” she stammered.

She realized she was still squeezing Kristen's arm. She let go and took a few steps back.

The video guy laughed. “You were expecting someone else to be up a tree?”

“You surprised us. That's all,” Kristen said.

“Just pretend I'm not here,” the man said. “Go
ahead and finish your race.”

The two girls took off, following a narrow path through the trees. April's legs felt shaky as she jogged.

“Marks wants everyone to think this is all a TV show,” she said.

Kristen sighed. “And they all believe him. No one else thinks they're in danger.”

“But we are,” April said. “We've got to find Marlin. And then we've got to find a way to get off this island. Before anyone else disappears.”

As they moved through the island forest, the air became hotter, steamier. Insects chirped. Birds called to one another from the swaying treetops.

April stopped to mop her forehead. She could feel the back of her T-shirt clinging to her sweaty skin.

She took a sip of water, then tilted the bottle over her dark hair and let the water run down her face.

Kristen leaned over and pressed her hands against her knees. “It's too hot for a race,” she said. “We should be swimming.”

April sighed. “How much do you want to bet that Pam is already at the finish line?”

“Your friend really likes to win, huh?”

“She's not my friend,” April said. “I'm just stuck with her. Pam is really—”

A flash of red in a tree made April stop. Squinting into sunlight, she saw a large bright-red bird.

“Is that a parrot or a macaw?” she asked Kristen.

The bird uttered a squawk, as if answering April's question.

Then another shrill squawk.

Then it clearly spoke.
“No survivors!”

April gasped.

Kristen let out a startled laugh. She stepped closer to the tree and peered at the bird.

“Awwwwk. No survivors,”
the bird said again.

Kristen turned back to April. “This can't be happening.”

April raised her eyes to the tree limb. She cried out as the large bird suddenly swayed—and toppled from the tree.

It landed headfirst with a hard
thud
in a pile of dead leaves.

April and Kristen both froze.

April waited for the bird to move, to stand up.

But it lay on its side. Its round black eye stared blankly at April.

Kristen dropped beside it in the pile of brown leaves. She reached out to touch it—but pulled her hand back. “It—it's dead,” she whispered.

Then her expression changed. Her eyes narrowed. She reached out with both hands and lifted the bird from the ground.

“I…don't believe this!” Kristen cried. “What is it?” April demanded.

Kristen didn't reply. Instead, she tossed the bird to April.

The macaw bounced off April's chest into her hands. She uttered a cry of surprise. “It's
a fake!”

Kristen nodded. “Some kind of robot puppet.”

April turned the bird upside down. It had a tiny speaker under its tail feathers. “Marks again,” she said angrily. “The whole island is booby-trapped with his tricks!”

April examined the robot bird in her hands. “That snake last night—do you think it was a fake too? Just one of Marks's special effects?”

Kristen nodded. “Probably.”

“But how did Marks know anyone would come past this tree?” April asked.

“Anyone who comes through the forest has to use this path,” Kristen replied.

“But other kids came this way before us,” April said. “Why didn't the bird talk to them? How come it fell on us?”

Kristen shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess. Or maybe Marks thinks we're easy to scare.”

April tossed the macaw to the ground. She bit her bottom lip. “Don't you see what Marks is doing, Kristen?” she asked. “With all of these fake scares for the TV cameras? He's rigged it so there's no way to tell what is real and what isn't.”

“Maybe,” Kristen said. “But that means he knows
the truth about the witch. Whatever that is.”

April thought it through. “Well, Marks lied about Marlin. He said Marlin never answered the invite to the reunion. He made a joke when I told him what Marlin's mother said. I think he's definitely covering up something.”

“But what
is
the truth?” Kristen asked.

“Good question,” April said. “I wish I had the answer.”

They heard shouts up ahead.

“We must be near the dock on the other side of the island,” Kristen said.

April wiped sweat from her forehead. “We forgot all about the race. We'd better catch up to the others.”

They turned and started jogging once again along the twisting dirt path. “We're going to finish last,” Kristen said. She turned to April. “Do you care?”

“I just want to finish
alive!”
April replied.

The trees ended at a sandy clearing. As she jogged, April saw a fat brown lizard watching them from a flat rock. A cloud of tiny white insects floated low over a clump of bright yellow wildflowers.

The square wooden dock stood at the other end of the clearing. A bunch of kids clustered on the shore beside it.

Kendra and two other girls were bent over, collecting shells. Anthony and Phil were tossing stones into the sparkling blue water.

April waved when she saw Pam on the dock. But
Pam didn't see her. She was standing with a guy from the camera crew, tugging back her long blond hair, chattering away into the camera.

Mira came jogging over to greet April and Kristen. “We wondered where you were!” she called.

“We got a little hung up,” Kristen replied.

“Pam won the race by three minutes,” Mira said, holding up a stopwatch.

“Big surprise,” April said, rolling her eyes.

They followed Mira to the dock. She handed them both cold bottles of water.

“I guess we're all here,” Blake, the other assistant, said to Mira. Blake was tall with wavy black hair and green eyes under heavy black eyebrows, and a warm smile.

He turned to April and Kristen. “We were going to send out a search party for you.”

Pam came running over. “Where were you guys?”

“It was too hot to run,” April said. Then she added, “Way to go, Pam. You won the race.”

Pam smiled. “It's only the first event.”

“Let's head back,” Blake shouted.

Pam spun around. “Hey—where's Clark?” she asked. “Has anyone seen Clark?”

“I thought he was with you,” April said.

“He was,” Pam replied.

“Clark? Hey—Clark?” Blake shouted into the trees. “Clark!”

Mira frowned at Pam. “Which way did you and
Clark come? Through the forest?”

Pam shook her head. “No. We climbed over those strange blue rocks. We thought it might be a shortcut.”

Pam's next words sent a jolt of fear through April.

“We were at the top, near these deep, dark caves,” Pam said. “I thought Clark was close behind me. But I turned around, and…and he was gone.”

“Tonight we light the first torch for one of our missing,” Marks said somberly.

He raised a burning stick to the torch. April heard a loud
pop
as the flame flared. Then it fluttered up against the black night sky.

“One will be called away from us every day,” Marks continued in his booming, deep voice. “Clark is the first to leave.”

He turned to the line of kids standing just out of the torchlight. “Who will be next?” he asked dramatically.

“He is really hamming it up for the cameras,” Kristen whispered to April.

But is it all just for TV? April wondered. Where is Clark? Is he safe somewhere? Or is he in real danger?

“Every night a new torch will be lighted,” Marks went on as the cameras moved in on him. “Every night we will remember one of our own. The last of us remaining will be our winner.”

The cool night wind fluttered the torch flame. “Let us have a moment of silence now for Clark,” Marks said, bowing his head.

One crew member swept his camcorder over the faces of the kids. April listened to the rush of waves splashing onto the shore. Somewhere beyond the village, an animal howled, a shrill, sad cry.

When the meeting broke up, April pulled Kristen down to the beach. From the darkness of the shore, they gazed up at the flickering orange light from the torch.

“I want to check out the cave—right now,” April said. “It's driving me crazy not knowing what is going on. What is real and what is fake.”

Kristen bent to pick up a big horseshoe crab shell. “Are you crazy? We can't go now, April. It's pitch black out tonight. No moon or anything. We won't be able to see a thing.”

April tugged off her sneakers. Carrying them in one hand, she began walking barefoot down the beach.

“Where are you going? Listen to me,” Kristen pleaded.

“I never wanted to come back to this horrible island,” April said. “But we returned for a reason. We need to find out the truth.”

“But we've been here only two days,” Kristen argued. She ran after April and grabbed her shoulder from behind. “Let's explore tomorrow—in the daylight.”

“I want to walk closer to the rocks,” April said. “I want to see if there is any sign…”

She turned and started walking again, taking long strides. Her bare feet sank into the cold, wet sand. The waves rushed into shore, and suddenly April was knee-deep in the water.

Kristen hurried to catch up. “Why are you being so stubborn?” she demanded. “I want to find Marlin as much as you do. I want to—”

Kristen let out a gasp.

“Hey!” April shouted as something cold and wet wrapped itself around her leg.

She bent down to pull it off. “It's seaweed or something,” she said.

Both girls had stepped into a deep pile of tendrils and dark leaves.

“It's kelp, I think,” Kristen said.

April tugged at the wet vine. “It's stuck to my leg,” she muttered.

She cried out again as she felt the sticky tendrils wrap around her other leg. “Whoa!”

April grabbed a long, leafy tendril and pulled with both hands. “It's so sticky. Oh, no! It's…it's climbing!”

She turned and saw Kristen also struggling to free herself. The wet sea kelp had wrapped itself around Kristen's waist.

The tendrils made sick, wet slurping sounds as they slapped themselves around the girls. Higher,
higher. The tendrils appeared to reach up as they climbed.

“It's tightening around me!” April cried. The cold, sticky kelp was reaching around her waist. Sliming its way up and across her chest.

April tried to pull it off. Tried to pull herself free. But the kelp had fastened itself around her ankles and legs. She couldn't move.

“Get it off me!” Kristen cried, panicked.

“I—I can't get it off me,” April answered.

The kelp was wrapped around her body like bandages on a mummy. It was circling her throat—and tightening.

“It's trying to
choke
me!” April struggled to pull it off.

But the slimy wet tendrils clung to her.

“I—I can't breathe,” Kristen gasped. “It's strangling me!”

The tendrils curled around April's neck and drew tighter. She was choking. Her chest ached. She couldn't get any air into her lungs. With her last breath she called out, “Help us! Somebody! Help us, please!”

Deborah Andersen wrapped her mother's black cloak around her. The hood fluttered in the wind off the ocean. She pulled it tight to hide her face.

Her heart was pounding so loudly, she was sure someone would hear it. Deborah hid in the shadows of the deck and watched the men unloading the big sailing ship. Huge wooden crates were being rolled down the gangplank onto the dock.

Holding her breath, Deborah waited for the right moment. Then she darted off the boat. She carried a cloth bag that held her only possession—the book she took from her mother.

She crouched beside one of the crates on the dock and waited. She listened for the sailors' footsteps. Heard the first mate and a deckhand arguing about how to unload the cargo.

Deborah waited until the men returned to the ship to unload the next group of crates. Then, still keeping low, she scurried away from the docks and
onto the road that led into town.

The last time she'd been here, she'd ridden to the docks in a prison cart, chains around her ankles, her hands bound behind her. The memory still gave her nightmares.

She heard a noise behind her and whirled. Had anyone seen her? No, the road behind her was empty.

She walked quickly through the winding streets of the port town. She drew the black cloak more tightly around her. Perhaps she should find a place to hide till nightfall. Then she would begin the journey back to her village of Ravenswoode.

She knew that even in her mother's cloak and hood, she might be recognized.

Someone might see her and realize that the wrong person returned home from the island.

The island. That had been Deborah's punishment. The village had condemned her as a witch. They spared her life. But ordered her taken to an uninhabited island, where her evil magic could hurt no one.

Deborah knew she was innocent. As the men came to take her to the ship, she had learned the truth. Her mother had been the one casting evil spells on the village.

Katherine allowed the villagers to accuse Deborah—so that no one would suspect her. She willingly sacrificed her own daughter to save herself.

Passing the last of the village shops, Deborah couldn't keep a smile from crossing her face. For she had triumphed over her mother.

On the boat Deborah found her mother's spell book. The book she now carried. The book that taught her how to fight her mother.

When they reached the tropical island, Deborah had cast a spell on the sailors. She switched cloaks with her mother. Katherine wore the blue cloak. Katherine the witch, the true evil one, had been tossed into the waters.

Katherine had been abandoned on the island.

The ship had returned to England with Deborah on board.

No one knew. No one.

And no one from Ravenswoode will ever know I'm back, Deborah thought. I shall sneak home by night. Then I will gather as many belongings as I can.

And carry them to another village. I will find a new home where no one knows who I am. And I will start a new life.

Good-bye, Mother. Your evil can harm no one now.

I am in England, and you are alone on a distant island forever. Forever.

I will not even think of you.

 

Deborah walked for two days. When a wagon came bouncing by or a farmer on his cart, she hid
behind bushes or trees.

She reached her village in late afternoon. I'm too weary to go another step, she thought. My legs ache and my stomach growls with hunger.

The cottage she'd shared with her mother was on the other side of the village. Under the sinking sun, men were still working the fields. Deborah recognized two women in white bonnets, carrying baskets of food home from the green market.

I cannot let them see me, Deborah thought. I'll have to hide until after dark.

She turned and realized she was standing in the shadow of Lemuel Hanford's grain barn. Making sure no one was around, Deborah slipped along the barn wall to the door.

She crept inside and waited for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. The sharp aroma of barley seed and rye greeted her.

A creature scampered over her feet as Deborah made her way to the back of the barn. A barn rat?

Deborah was too weary to care.

She settled on a low mound of grain. Loosened the cloak for the first time since leaving the ship. And bunched it behind her head as a pillow.

A few seconds later, she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

“Oh!” Deborah was awakened by a cry.

She opened her eyes to see a bearded man in dark work clothes. Lemuel Hanford!

“The witch!” he screamed, eyes bulging in horror. “The witch has returned!”

Before Deborah could move, Lemuel raised a three-pronged pitchfork high in the air, aimed it at her chest—and plunged it straight down.