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  They rounded a corner.

  John was a few steps in front and stopped.

  Marco nearly ran into him. “What?”

  John stood there, stiff and still.

  Marco wondered whether being frozen had affected him more than he thought. Maybe they shouldn’t have been running.

  But then his stepfather muttered, “What in the world…?”

  Marco leaned out and looked around him. “Oh no.” About thirty yards down the beach sat a shark, fin straight up in the air.

  “If it washed up, shouldn’t it be on its side?”

  Marco didn’t give an answer, because he didn’t like the only one that came to mind.

  The shark moved forward on the sand.

  John took off his glasses and wiped them with the bottom of his shirt. “I must be seeing things.” He put them back on.

  Marco’s mouth dried up. “It’s not a shark,” he whispered. “It’s a sharkodile.”

  “A what?” John stepped forward.

  “Don’t!” Marco grabbed him and whispered, “It almost ate me and Sarah before!”

  John shot him a look and then pushed Marco behind him. He spoke quietly. “We have to keep going. Maybe if we just—”

  “We can’t. If it sees us—” Marco froze as the sharkodile got up on its greenish reptilian legs. The beast turned, faced them, and paused.

  “Is that for real?” asked John.

  Marco held his breath.

  Sharks had bad eyesight, right? There was no way it could see them that far down the—

  The sharkodile charged, lightning on its four legs.

  “Run!” Abandoning the silver container, Marco whipped back the way they had come, pumping both arms as he sprinted. As soon as he rounded the corner, he cut into the tree line.

  John was right behind him. He yelled, “Where are you going?”

  “If we hide, it might go on by.” He slipped between two palm trees and ventured deeper into the brush, dropping behind a thick trunk. John hid behind a nearby one.

  Marco gasped for air.

  John set a finger to his lips.

  Marco clapped a hand over his mouth.

  The silver-and-green sharkodile passed them, going at a fast clip. As soon as the long, scaly tail slipped from view, John jumped up and motioned to Marco.

  But Marco didn’t move. He shook his head and leaned forward to peer through the foliage. He couldn’t see the creature, but something told him that—

  Silver and green flashed in front of him.

  “Get up a tree!” he yelled at John.

  The sharkodile thrust its snout through a bush. But its fin caught on the thorny branches, giving them a few precious seconds as the beast fought to free itself.

  All around were only palm trees, impossible to climb. John found the lone monkey pod tree and made it up to a branch about six feet off the ground.

  The sharkodile freed itself, pushing through the remainder of the bush.

  “Marco! Run!” John leaned down, waving his arm. “I’ll pull you up!”

  But Marco was too far away. “I won’t make it!”

  A young palm tree was a few yards away, the nearest branch a good eight feet up. Too high. Still, Marco ran for it, reaching into his pocket and yanking out his knife. He flipped it open, sprinted, and leaped, jabbing the knife as far up the trunk as he could reach.

  The knife hit true, deep enough to hold Marco as he tucked his legs and hung from one arm.

  “It’s coming!” yelled John.

  Using his grip on the knife, Marco pulled himself up as much as he could, hoping he was far enough off the ground. His face was smashed against the rough trunk, the muscles in his arm and shoulder already beginning to burn from the strain of holding his entire body weight.

  “It can’t reach you!” called John. “You just have to hold on.”

  How was he going to do that?

  With a grunt, he straddled the tree, tightening his legs as much as he could. He was able to switch hands and give his straining muscles a break.

  But then he glanced down, right into the gaping red maw with jagged white teeth. He gasped. His arm tightened and his feet scrabbled against the trunk as he tried to get higher.

  “Don’t look down!”

  Marco’s feet slipped, but he kept going, trying to run up the palm tree even though it was impossible.

  “Hold on!” John yelled. “It’s leaving!”

  Marco whirled in time to see the long green tail swish through the brush and disappear. He lost his hold and fell, landing on his backside with a grunt.

  “Get up! Come on!” John waved his arm.

  With wobbly legs, Marco got to his feet and ran over to John’s tree. He thrust his weary arms up, and John pulled him to the lowest branch.

  Exhausted and breathless, Marco slumped against the trunk.

  “You okay?”

  Marco said, “Well, now I am.”

  “What do you think we should do?” asked John.

  Marco glanced at him. “What do you think we should do?”

  John shrugged. “You’ve been around the island more than I have. And obviously seen things I haven’t. I’d say you know a lot more than I do right now.”

  Marco thought a moment as he stared in the direction the creature had run. “I think maybe we wait a little while and then take another route back to the beach.”

  John didn’t say anything at first. “Can we spare the time?”

  Marco’s words were firm. “We don’t have a choice.”

  He waited for his stepfather to argue.

  Instead, John touched Marco’s cheek. “You’ve got a scrape.”

  “I’m fine.” Marco rubbed his aching shoulder. “Could have been a whole lot worse.” So much worse he didn’t even want to think about it. He leaned back against the trunk, crossed his arms, and settled in to wait.

  3

  Sarah was hot and tired of walking, even though she was going extra slow to stall Fox.

  Fox gave her a shove that sent her stumbling nearly to her knees.

  She righted herself and put her hands on her hips. “I’m going as fast as I can!”

  Fox took off his hat. “Well, I don’t have all day.” He wiped his sweaty face on his shirt, leaving a dark patch on the blue sleeve.

  Sarah was lying of course; she could have moved faster, a whole lot faster. But she still hadn’t come up with a plan. Dawdling was all she could think to do while she considered her options.

  Should she stay on the beach or take the path into the woods?

  Why hadn’t she and Marco agreed on a plan before he left?

  There had been no time, she told herself.

  But that forced her to try and figure out what her stepbrother was thinking. Would he bring her dad the fast way, along the beach? Or would they be stealthy and take the inner route through the trees?

  “Let’s go, girly.”

  Sarah started walking.

  Up ahead lay the path into the trees that she and Marco had taken the first time they’d discovered the face rock.

  She had to make her choice. Now.

  What was Marco thinking, where did he—?

  Goose bumps rose on her arms. She had a funny feeling that Marco and her dad were close.

  But which way?

  Beach or trees?

  Stay the course or choose the path?

  Fox shoved her a little.

  The path appeared.

  Sarah made the call and pointed. “In there.”

  Fox gazed at the ocean for a moment, then back at the path. “Just remember. No funny business.”

  She scowled. “I want this over just as much as you do.”

  He held out a hand. “After you, girly.”

  Sarah stepped onto the dirt path and quickly entered the thicker part of the trees. The light grew dimmer as they progressed.

  “This doesn’t look familiar at all,” said Fox.

  None of it would look the same as when he’d
been there. Sarah wondered whether he’d even believe the truth, that actual aliens—namely Leo and his grandfather—were responsible for the changes to the island: the larger volcano, all the trees, the strange creatures—

  Sarah sucked in a quick breath. The creatures.

  They were nearly at the exact spot where she and Marco had first seen the creature that appeared to be half rhinoceros, half unicorn. Maybe the rhinocorn was there, near them. As soon as she heard the chuffing, she could dive into the brush and get away, go find her dad. Because Fox would at least be startled, possibly even too freaked out to move.

  Right?

  She crossed her fingers and slowed her pace a little.

  But by the time they reached the V in the path, they hadn’t encountered anything. Sarah’s shoulders slumped.

  What did she do now?

  The rock with the face lay on the path to the right. If she took Fox straight there, he’d know that this was the island, his island. And then he’d want the treasure.

  Sarah decided to go left. Please let this be the best choice. She pointed. “That way.”

  The trees thickened. The path grew narrower. They were forced to move slower.

  A shrill whistle cut the air.

  “What was that?” asked Fox.

  “Sounds like birds.”

  They were nearing the valley where she and Marco had seen all of those mysterious creatures. And Sarah still wasn’t sure what to do once they arrived. Lost in thought, she grabbed a vine to move past, then let go. It slapped back into Fox’s face.

  “Watch it!”

  A plan popped into Sarah’s head. She slowed even more. When she was certain that Fox was right behind her, she took hold of a big clump of vines and pulled them out. She yanked tighter and tighter, until they wouldn’t budge anymore.

  She let go.

  They snapped right into Fox’s face.

  “Hey!”

  Sarah ran as fast as she could, brushing branches and leaves out of her face. If her plan had any chance of succeeding, she had to be quick. At least Fox had left his gun with Miss Blackstone. She didn’t have to worry about him shooting her. Not yet.

  She moved as fast as she could, dodging tree trunks. Her left foot caught on an exposed root and she tripped, catching herself before she fell. She shoved her way through a thick clump of vines that scratched her face.

  The bird sounds grew louder. A raucous squawk startled her.

  Almost there.

  Sarah gasped for air. The path grew lighter, the opening loomed ahead. She pushed away the memory of the last time she’d been at that spot. She had to concentrate, had to time it just right or—

  The ground fell away.

  With a shriek, she slid to a stop in the dirt and fell back onto her hands, panting. Her feet were inches away from the edge of the cliff. Below, the green valley spread out, bordered on three sides by rocky walls. Although she’d seen the vista before, if she’d had any breath left, the view would have taken it away.

  Rustling came from behind her.

  Fox.

  Sarah scrambled to her feet and stood as close to the edge of the cliff as she dared. Her knees wobbled as she caught sight of the tree branch she’d become acquainted with only a day before.

  A scowling, panting Fox bolted out of the brush. He reached for Sarah.

  She froze. Wait for it.…

  Fox’s fingers brushed her shirt.

  She leaned away at the last possible second.

  His momentum carried him toward the edge.

  Sarah gasped and stepped back.

  Time seemed to stop.

  “Whoa!” Fox’s arms windmilled frantically. He was on the edge of the cliff.

  He was going to fall.…

  And then he would be—

  Could she do it? Was she the kind of person who could just stand there and watch while he—?

  No.

  Sarah leaped, grabbed his shirt, and pulled.

  It was just enough.

  Fox caught his balance and staggered back, away from the edge. His sunglasses fell to the ground, and for a moment, he hunched over, gasping for air as he stared over the edge. Slowly his eyes shifted to Sarah.

  He straightened up.

  Before she could say a word, he grabbed her arm and dragged her to the cliff’s edge.

  “No!” she screeched.

  His grip was so hard it hurt as he swung her around and backed her up to the edge.

  Solid ground disappeared under the toe of her left foot. Bits of dirt trickled down the rock. “Please, don’t. I didn’t mean—”

  “You were fine with me going over.” Fox pushed again.

  “I saved you!” Sarah’s left foot felt only air as her right foot slid halfway off the edge. She tried to gain purchase on the edge, but couldn’t do anything except push against the face of the cliff with her foot.

  Fox shoved farther.

  Sarah found herself nearly horizontal, staring up at the blue cloudless sky.

  The man’s hold on her one stretched-out arm was the only thing keeping her from falling.

  “Are you going to take me to the face rock?”

  Sarah felt like her arm was about to be wrenched out of the socket. She scrunched her eyes shut tight. “Yes!” she screamed.

  “No more messing around?”

  Tears squeezed out of her eyes as her head fell from side to side, unable to speak as her heart felt like it could thump its way out of her chest.

  Fox shook her like a rag doll. “Well?”

  “I’ll take you there, I promise! Pleasejustletmebackup.” She gulped. “Please.”

  Fox yanked her forward and let go.

  Sarah sprawled in the dirt. She curled up, gasping. Her heart had not slowed down one bit.

  Fox said nothing for a moment. Then he nudged her with a foot. “Let’s go.”

  Sarah slowly rose. She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand and brushed the dirt off her skinned knees. Even more wary of Fox than before, she pointed at the path. “Back that way. It’s at the V, the other path.”

  Fox gestured impatiently. “Ain’t got all day.” He stooped down and grabbed his sunglasses.

  And Sarah knew, then, that she was out of ideas. Her only hope was that Marco and her dad would come up with a way to help her before Fox discovered the truth. She only hoped that she would last that long.

  4

  Marco shifted on the branch, stiff from sitting in the same position. “How much longer should we wait?”

  John shrugged. “Maybe that thing isn’t coming back.”

  “We could be here all day.” And they couldn’t afford to waste that much time. Marco felt his pocket for the small case Leo had given him. At least he hadn’t lost that. He had to get the medicine back to his mom.

  And what if the criminals had already come ashore? What if they had hurt any of the others?

  There was no more time to wait.

  Marco gripped the branch and swung down, hanging by his arms. He let go and landed on the ground.

  John shook his head. “I think you should get back up here.”

  “We can’t just sit here and wait anymore.” Marco took a few steps toward the beach, which, hopefully, was empty.

  John dropped to the ground behind him. “See anything?”

  Marco set a finger to his lips as he tiptoed closer to the edge of the trees. The beach was clear, the waves peaceful and calm.

  His gut clenched.

  The sharkodile could be out there, underwater, waiting for them. And once they reached the sand, there would be nowhere to hide, no defense against it. Marco pointed back toward the trees. “There might be a trail through here.”

  “Do you know one?”

  Marco shook his head.

  “We can’t spare the time to find one.”

  Marco sighed. The only rational path was the beach. He whispered, “We run on three.”

  “Okay.”

  Marco held up one finger. Then two. He
steeled himself, held up three fingers, and sprinted. He hit the sand and heard John’s steady runs-every-day-but-Sunday exhalations behind him. After a few steps, he glanced sideways at the water. Still peaceful.

  He ran as fast as he could, as far as he could, unable even to take the time to look for the food he’d dropped. Finally, he panted so loud he could barely hear his stepfather behind him. He slowed to a walk, unable to keep up that pace.

  “Do you think”—John gasped—“there are any more of those?”

  Marco glanced at the water and wished he’d asked Leo just how many—and what kind of—creatures they should be on the lookout for. He sped up.

  After a while of running and walking, both of them were exhausted and thirsty. But Marco smiled and pointed. “I recognize that dune by the bend. Our beach is right around it.” He glanced out at the lagoon. The end of the sailboat was just visible.

  “The boat looks empty,” said John.

  “You think they’re all on the beach?”

  “I do.”

  Marco sighed and patted his pocket. Every second they hesitated was more time his mother did without the medicine. “What now?”

  John rubbed his forehead. “We have to estimate where they are.”

  Marco pictured their camp. “Maybe up by the fire?”

  “We need to figure this out before we just come walking around the corner.”

  “I know.” Marco surveyed the tree line. “I’ll go and look. You stay here.”

  “Should we both go?”

  Marco shook his head. “It’s better to split up. That way if one of us runs into trouble—”

  “The other can go for help?”

  Marco frowned.

  That was the thing. There was no help. They had only themselves. He gazed out at the sailboat again. Or maybe not …

  John raised his eyebrows and faced the sailboat. “You think I should swim out there? Call for help?”

  Then Marco remembered the sharkodile and shook his head. “Too dangerous.”

  John gazed back down the beach the way they’d come. He sighed. “My family is worth the risk.” He kicked off his shoes. “I’ll have no way of letting you know I made it.”

  “You could have some kind of signal.” Marco thought for a moment. “Red. Send something red up the sail. I’ll watch for it.”