The Sabotage Page 10

  “Thank you, Ani—for everything,” Vanessa said.

  “Do not stop” was all he said, and Vanessa turned to face Buzz.

  “Ready for this?” she asked. Her eyes were wild. She looked as terrified as he felt.

  “Not at all,” Buzz said.

  “Together?” she asked.

  “Together,” he said.

  And with that, they ran straight for the edge at the same time.

  Vanessa felt a brief slick of chill air as she passed through the mist. There was a breathless, silent moment of swinging arms when her body tried to curl under her—just before she hit water.

  The plunge was freezing cold. She marked her descent, already thinking about how far she’d have to swim back up. Then, as soon as she could, she reversed direction in the water and started kicking.

  As she broke the surface, warm air filled her lungs with the first breath. She shook her head, clearing the water from her eyes.

  “Buzz?” she shouted. “Buzz!”

  “I’m here,” he said, not far behind her. When she looked, he was treading in place, and taking in the vast cavern around them.

  The bright orange sunlight of a new morning was pouring in, filling the entire chamber with a warm glow. It came through a high, wide opening like a four-story natural arch in the rock walls.

  Vanessa looked straight up. It seemed impossible they’d dropped all that distance. The layer of mist that blocked her view of the sky, and the ledge they’d left behind, was like a ceiling of clouds.

  For several seconds, it was nothing short of staggeringly beautiful—a stone cathedral under the island. But reality quickly set in. Vanessa knew they had to keep moving. The high walls all around didn’t offer any refuge, and Jane was nowhere in sight. It seemed obvious she’d already swum out through the enormous arched opening.

  Buzz seemed to have realized it as well. Without any conversation, they began stroking their way through the water and toward the warm light outside. The adrenaline of the jump and the nearing end of Raku Nau were enough to keep Vanessa moving. Buzz had no trouble keeping up, either. It was nearly over.

  As soon as they’d swum past the mouth of the cavern, Vanessa put her hand on Buzz’s shoulder. They came upright again, treading water and looking for the nearest place to stop.

  “Over there!” Buzz said, pointing to a stretch of sandy shore off to the left.

  This was it. This was the eastern shore they’d been working so hard to reach all this time.

  The first details to distinguish themselves were the people. They stood in and among the trees at the upper edge of the beach. It made them harder to see—not just from where Vanessa watched, but also from any potential passing planes or ships.

  There were dozens of Nukula, young and old, all gathered there, waiting for the Raku Nau finishers. There were several drummers, too, pounding away. A roaring fire was burning in a clearing in the woods, where it looked as though preparations were being made for a huge celebration.

  Right now, their next move was clear, but as Vanessa looked toward the horizon, she couldn’t help thinking about setting out from this spot. That was what they’d have to do next—somehow—if they ever wanted to find Mom and Dad again.

  Finally, there on the beach, somebody came forward. It was Jane. A few of the Nukula tried to stop her, but she pushed through. She came galloping down the sand toward the water’s edge, waving them on.

  Vanessa smiled through tears as she swam toward her. It was a relief to see that Jane was okay, and to know that they were one step closer to the end of Raku Nau. But she also knew she’d feel a lot better after Carter made it down and they were all together again.

  Carter knew it was a showdown now.

  There were so few left on the course, it was impossible not to be aware of Chizo’s every move. And once Buzz and Vanessa had disappeared over the edge of Cloud Ridge, followed quickly by two more Nukula runners, only two seccu remained.

  That was one for Mima, and one for him.

  The finish was right there, within reach. Carter was only a few moves away, closer than anyone left on the course. All he’d have to do was cross a narrow bridge of vine mesh, stand up, and claim his seccu. But he couldn’t yet. Not without Mima.

  He turned his focus back to her, repeating the pattern in his mind—left, left, right, then right, right, left.

  “Mima!” he shouted, and pointed her to the right, across another bridge of two bamboo poles. It looked unsteady, but Mima was strong and agile. She rose on her toes to cross it in three fast strides. Her progress was quick now.

  But the same was true for several others. Chizo was coming on strong from the opposite direction. He’d just shinnied up a rope that brought him back to the top level, and put him within striking distance.

  From yet another direction, one of the last remaining Nukula runners was closing in on the finish, too.

  Carter’s mind seethed, weighing the possibilities. There was nothing he could do to slow Chizo, or the other Nukula girl coming on so fast. And Mima was already going as quickly as she could. What they really needed was more time. But that was too much to ask for.

  “That way!” he shouted desperately, pointing Mima to another right turn off the platform where she’d just landed. It was one of the rope swings this time. She navigated it with one clean jump.

  “And now there!” he said. With a left turn, she scurried on her stomach, across a hanging bundle of bamboo poles.

  When Carter looked again, the other Nukula girl had made several more moves of her own. Already, she was launching over the final section of netting that would bring her up onto the ridge.

  There was nothing he could do to stop her. The girl sped straight ahead. Without looking back, she landed on solid ground, continued her run, and disappeared over the edge of Cloud Ridge with the second-to-last seccu in her hand.

  “NO!” Carter yelled. Everything inside of him seized up. It felt as if his heart had just frozen. Now, a single seccu hung on the line behind Ani—and that meant something that was impossible to accept. Only one of them was going to reach the eastern shore now.

  Mima, Chizo, or me, he thought.

  This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He and Mima were supposed to finish together and join the others. That was the plan. Now it could be only one of them.

  And he was the closest of the three.

  Carter looked at Mima again. She was less than twenty feet away, navigating on her own. But Chizo was even closer, crossing one last bridge to close the gap between them. The net where Carter waited was narrow. Chizo would have to run right over him to finish first—and he looked prepared to do exactly that.

  “Issa mekata!” Chizo shouted, like a war cry, as he came.

  Carter hesitated for one more moment—and it was one too many. Chizo was there now. He leaped from the bridge to the net. His feet tangled between Carter’s legs as he tried to pass.

  And Carter did the only thing it was in his power to do. He grasped the edge of the net with both hands. Then he rolled as hard as he could, flipping the entire thing like a hammock before Chizo could get past.

  It wasn’t a conscious plan. His gut had always been faster than his mind. Before Carter had thought it through, it was already happening.

  Chizo fell first. He lurched sideways, off the net and into the air. Carter held tight to the vine mesh as he rolled off, too, his legs dangling underneath him. He knew his grip wouldn’t last, but he hung on long enough to see Chizo land, two levels down. It was also enough time to see Mima make the last move she needed in order to reach the ridge. Now she was just a few feet away from the final seccu.

  “Car-tare!” she yelled. She stopped short and turned back toward him.

  “GO!” he yelled at her. The vine cut into his fingers. His arms strained, trying to hold on, as the realization of what he’
d just done rushed into his mind. Vanessa, Jane, and Buzz were waiting for him. But now it was too late.

  Meanwhile, another runner was closing in fast. If he got to the end of the course ahead of Mima, then all this would be for nothing. Still, Mina reached for Carter, losing precious seconds as she did.

  “Mima, go!” he yelled again.

  There was only one move left, Carter knew. Only one way to make sure Mima made it through. He let go of the net.

  She reached for him one more time, but he was already falling—through the air, away from Mima, and out of the competition.

  For good.

  Jane stood in the shade with Buzz and Vanessa. She stared at the water, trying to see who was swimming toward the beach. They’d been pulled back into the woods by several elders and made to wait there like everyone else.

  A figure had just emerged from the cave in the distance, heading for shore as they watched. Jane squeezed Vanessa’s hand, barely able to wait another second.

  “Can you see who it is?” she asked.

  Vanessa shook her head no. “I can’t even tell if it’s a boy or a girl,” she said.

  Then a joyous yell came up from a Nukula man and woman in the crowd. It was a clear sign that they’d just recognized their own child in the water. Someone besides Carter and Mima had made it through.

  A minute later, a young Nukula girl reached the beach and ran toward her parents with a big smile on her face and a seccu around her neck.

  “How many is that?” Jane asked. The panic was rising now. She’d been trying to keep track, but with the confusion of all the arrivals, it was impossible to know for sure if her count was correct.

  Vanessa and Buzz stood there, still not answering. But the silence spoke for itself.

  Then Buzz looked at her. “There were only two left after we jumped,” he said.

  “That means . . .” Jane said, but she couldn’t finish the thought. Not out loud.

  “Yeah,” Buzz said, his voice thick with emotion. It was all moving so fast, but it was also clear by now. There was only one seccu remaining.

  Jane wasn’t sure what to think, or even what to feel. She couldn’t possibly hope for Mima to fail at Raku Nau. But just as much, she couldn’t imagine coming all this way only to lose their chance of getting off the island. Or getting home. Or seeing Mom and Dad, ever again.

  Now it was just a matter of waiting to see who showed up next. Would it be Mima? Carter? Maybe even Chizo?

  It didn’t take long to get an answer. As Jane stood there, pressed in close between her brother and sister, one last swimmer appeared at the mouth of the cavern, heading toward them with a strong steady stroke.

  Jane squinted, desperate to see. She held her breath. And then—

  “It’s not him,” Vanessa said.

  There was no emotion in her voice. She sounded numb. It was the same way Jane felt as the words registered in her mind.

  She could see the swimmer now, too. It was Mima coming toward them. Not Carter. The sixteenth runner had just reached the eastern shore, and the competition was over.

  Whatever they had hoped might happen here was clearly not going to happen anymore. There was no trying to leave Shadow Island without Carter. And, equally troubling, there was no knowing what would happen to him now—or to any of them.

  “Vanessa?” Jane said, looking at her older sister’s ashen face. Buzz dropped to his knees.

  A blast of conch shells and a burst of drumming rose and grew louder around them, along with the whoops and cheers of the Nukula, as the celebration marking the end of Raku Nau began.

  The story continues in

  READ HOW THE ADVENTURE BEGAN IN

  It was supposed to be a vacation—and a chance to get to know one another better. But when a massive storm sets in without warning, four kids are shipwrecked alone on a rocky jungle island in the middle of the South Pacific. No adults. No instructions. Nobody to rely on but themselves. Can they make it home alive?

  A week ago, the biggest challenge Vanessa, Buzz, Carter, and Jane had was learning to live as a new blended family. Now the four siblings must find a way to work together if they’re going to make it off the island. But first they’ve got to learn to survive one another.

  It was day four at sea, and as far as eleven-year-old Carter Benson was concerned, life didn’t get any better than this.

  From where he hung, suspended fifty feet over the deck of the Lucky Star, all he could see was a planet’s worth of blue water. The boat’s huge white mainsail ballooned in front of him, filled with a stiff southerly wind that sent them scudding through the South Pacific faster than they’d sailed all week.

  This was the best part of the best thing Carter had ever done, no question. It was like sailing and flying at the same time. The harness around his middle held him in place while his arms and legs hung free. The air itself seemed to carry him along, at speed with the boat.

  “How you doin’ up there, Carter?” Uncle Dexter shouted from the cockpit.

  Carter flashed a thumbs-up and pumped his fist. “Faster!” he shouted back. Even with the wind whipping in his ears, Dex’s huge belly laugh came back, loud and clear.

  Meanwhile, Carter had a job to do. He wound the safety line from his harness in a figure eight around the cleat on the mast to secure himself. Then he reached over and unscrewed the navigation lamp he’d come up here to replace.

  As soon as he’d pocketed the old lamp in his rain slicker, he pulled out the new one and fitted it into the fixture, making sure not to let go before he’d tightened it down. Carter had changed plenty of lightbulbs before, but never like this. If anything, it was all too easy and over too fast.

  When he was done, he unwound his safety line and gave a hand signal to Dex’s first mate, Joe Kahali, down below. Joe put both hands on the winch at the base of the mast and started cranking Carter back down to the deck.

  “Good job, Carter,” Joe said, slapping him on the back as he got there. Carter swelled with pride and adrenaline. Normally, replacing the bulb would have been Joe’s job, but Dex trusted him to take care of it.

  Now Joe jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Your uncle wants to talk to you,” he said.

  Carter stepped out of the harness and stowed it in its locker, just like Dex and Joe had trained him to do. Once that was done, he clipped the D-ring on his life jacket to the safety cable that ran the length of the deck and headed toward the back.

  It wasn’t easy to keep his footing as the Lucky Star pitched and rolled over the waves, but even that was part of the fun. If he did fall, the safety cable—also called a jackline—would keep him from going overboard. Everyone was required to stay clipped in when they were on deck, whether they were up there to work . . . or to puke, like Buzz was doing right now.

  “Gross! Watch out, Buzz!” Carter said, pushing past him.

  “Uhhhhhnnnnh,” was all Buzz said in return. He was leaning against the rail and looked both green and gray at the same time.

  Carter kind of felt sorry for him. They were both eleven years old, but they didn’t really have anything else in common. It was like they were having two different vacations out here.

  “Gotta keep moving,” he said, and continued on toward the back, where Dex was waiting.

  “Hey, buddy, it’s getting a little choppier than I’d like,” Dex said as Carter stepped down into the cockpit. “I need you guys to get below.”

  “I don’t want to go below,” Carter said. “Dex, I can help. Let me steer!”

  “No way,” Dex said. “Not in this wind. You’ve been great, Carter, but I promised your mom before we set sail—no kids on deck if these swells got over six feet. You see that?” He pointed to the front of the boat, where a cloud of sea spray had just broken over the bow. “That’s what a six-foot swell looks like. We’ve got a storm on the way—m
aybe a big one. It’s time for you to take a break.”

  “Come on, please?” Carter said. “I thought we came out here to sail!”

  Dex took him by the shoulders and looked him square in the eye.

  “Remember what we talked about before we set out? My boat. My rules. Got it?”

  Carter got it, all right. Arguing with Dex was like wrestling a bear. You could try, but you were never going to win.

  “Now, grab your brother and get down there,” Dex told him.

  “Okay, fine,” Carter said. “But he’s not my brother, by the way. Just because my mom married his dad doesn’t mean—”

  “Ask me tomorrow if I care,” Dexter said, and gave him a friendly but insistent shove. “Now go!”

  * * *

  Benjamin “Buzz” Diaz lifted his head from the rail and looked out into the distance. All he could see from here was an endless stretch of gray clouds over an endless stretch of choppy waves.

  Keeping an eye on the horizon was supposed to help with the seasickness, but so far, all it had done was remind him that he was in the middle of the biggest stretch of nowhere he’d ever seen. His stomach felt like it had been turned upside down and inside out. His legs were like rubber bands, and his head swam with a thick, fuzzy feeling, while the boat rocked and rocked and rocked.

  It didn’t look like this weather was going to be changing anytime soon, either. At least, not for the better.

  Buzz tried to think about something else—anything else—to take his mind off how miserable he felt. He thought about his room back home. He thought about how much he couldn’t wait to get there, where he could just close his door and hang out all day if he wanted, playing City of Doom and eating pepperoni pizz—

  Wait, Buzz thought. No. Not that.

  He tried to unthink anything to do with food, but it was too late. Already, he was leaning over the rail again and hurling the last of his breakfast into the ocean.