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  “But you won’t know if I’ve been able to call for help.”

  Marco sighed. “It will take hours for anyone to get here anyway. I’ve got to get Mom the medicine as soon as I can.”

  “You’re right,” said John. “I’ll try to call for help and then come back to the beach.”

  Marco shook his head. “You should stay. That way, if things go wrong or if they try to leave without us—”

  “I can’t leave you all here.”

  Marco said, “Then I’ll swim out there.”

  John’s forehead furrowed. “No way. Too dangerous.” He set a hand on Marco’s head. “Let me go. Hopefully I can call for help. And if not, then at least I’ll be the backup plan.”

  “Okay.” Marco’s stomach churned.

  John walked down to the water and stood there a moment, staring at the waves.

  Marco wanted to reassure him. But his voice shook a little as he said, “That thing is probably still back there, where we left it.”

  John managed a smile. “Better call Guinness. I’m about to set a world record for the front crawl in sharkodile-infested waters.” He held out a fist.

  Marco bumped it with his own. Then, before he could think twice about it, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his stepfather. “Be careful.”

  “You too.” John’s arms went around Marco and squeezed. “See you on the other side, big guy.” He rubbed Marco’s hair a couple of times. He stepped back, ran into the waves, and dove.

  Marco watched John’s fast, steady crawl for a moment and then ran up the beach toward the tree line. He stepped between two thick trunks, then glanced back at the water. His stepfather was a diminishing dot in the waves.

  Marco inhaled deeply. The next step belonged to him.

  He tried to move quietly through the foliage, unsure how close he was to anyone in their camp. There was no telling where he would emerge. After only a few yards, the trees thickened, making for tough going through hanging vines and branches. Gradually they grew sparser. He crouched near a palm tree. He still couldn’t see anyone, so he simply listened.

  A woman’s voice.

  “I’m so tired of this island.”

  Mom?

  He grinned. She was fine, so fine she actually had the strength to complain—

  “Three days, he said. Three days and we’d have the treasure. Well, it’s been way more than three days!”

  No. This wasn’t his mom. This woman’s voice was nasal.

  “Do you think I want to be here? Do you think I like standing up to my ankles in this disgusting sand?”

  Marco dropped to his belly and crawled forward until the only thing between him and the woman was a short, stumpy clump of green grasses. He had a good view through the thick blades. The woman was dressed all in white, her eyes hidden behind her sunglasses, her red lips pursed in annoyance. Marco’s gaze dropped to the trigger of the gun looped around one manicured finger, the scrawny white dog in the crook of her other arm.

  “We can end this all right now and go home.”

  A man’s voice. But who?

  Marco shifted a bit to his left, to the edge of the clump. He saw a tree trunk, two smaller hands and two bigger, all encircled with rope.

  “It’s my sailboat; just let me go and we’ll get out of here.”

  Cash’s grandpa? Had to be.

  The man’s fingers furiously worked at the knots, even as his voice remained calm. “Leave Fox here.”

  The woman pouted even more. “Not without my treasure.”

  “There’s no treasure.” Sarge sounded irritated. “We’ve looked at every island between here and home port.”

  “Fox says this is the island.” The woman tried to stomp a gold-heeled foot, which simply sank into the sand. “Ugh.” She lifted her foot and shook out the grains. “That girl knows the place.”

  Marco sank lower in his crouch. Did she mean Sarah?

  “I’m thirsty.”

  That was Cash. So Sarah had to have gone with Fox. But where?

  Sarge said, “Please, can you get us some water?”

  The woman held out her hand with the gun. “Do I look like I have water?”

  “There’s some up by the fire,” said Cash.

  Someone moaned.

  Marco shifted back to the other side, as far as he dared, in order to see out. A blanket lay a few feet from Sarge. And there was a familiar sandaled foot—

  Mom.

  She was right there! So close.

  “Fine. I’ll go get you some water.” The woman pointed the gun at them. “But you’d better not do anything while I’m gone.” She whirled and minced her way up the beach, heels sinking into the sand with every step.

  Marco burst out and ran straight to his mom.

  “Marco!” whispered Cash.

  He set a finger to his lips.

  “Untie us!”

  “In a sec.” He glanced behind to make sure the woman was still heading away from them, then reached into his pocket and pulled out the case. A small vial of pink liquid lay inside. Exactly how much did he trust Leo?

  Did it matter? He had no choice.

  Marco dropped the case. He opened the vial and cupped the back of his mom’s neck. “Mom?”

  She moaned. Her eyes fluttered.

  “Please, you’ve got to drink this.” He held it to her dry lips.

  She opened them slightly.

  He managed to pour the contents into her mouth. He made sure she swallowed and then laid her head back down. She made no further movements, and her eyes remained closed.

  How long would it take?

  “Son, can you get us loose?” Sarge spoke quietly but firmly.

  Marco reached into his pocket for the knife.

  The knife.

  He’d left it stuck in the tree back on the beach.

  He smashed a hand over his face. “Stupid.”

  The dog’s yapping startled Marco.

  “She’s coming back!” said Cash.

  The woman turned their way.

  Marco slid behind the tree. “Where’d Sarah go?”

  “With Fox,” said Cash. “To the face rock.”

  Miss Blackstone set the dog down. The ugly thing began running full out for the tree. And Marco.

  The dog stopped a foot shy of him and the bushes, yapping like crazy.

  The woman called out, “Bentley! Stop that! Come to Mama now.”

  Marco slid back behind the grasses. “I’ll be back as soon as I can!” He crawled and then got to his feet as soon as he reached the trees.

  Marco began to run.

  He had to get to Sarah, he had to get to the face rock, and he had to—

  Something hit him right in the midsection.

  “Oomph.” He doubled over and fell to his knees. He lay there and gasped for air as he wondered exactly which bad guy he had missed.

  5

  Sarah tried to stop crying as she led Fox, backtracking where they’d just come. She was so mad at herself.

  She should have let him fall off the edge.

  After all, he was mean and wanted to hurt her family. That was reason enough to let him fall to his doom, right?

  But maybe it wasn’t that simple. She probably would have felt terrible about it afterward.

  She sniffled and wiped her eyes. No matter. The moment was over, and she couldn’t get it back.

  “How much farther?” Fox sounded very winded.

  Sarah pointed. “Up there, at the V in the path.”

  Except for the receding squawks and whistles and tweets, their walk was silent.

  She had no plan. She had to take Fox to the face rock. There was no getting out of it.

  Sarah led Fox to the path she’d tried to avoid, speeding up slightly on the incline. There the trees grew farther apart, and they soon stepped out into the open space.

  Fox stared.

  Straight in front of them was the rocky cliff with the two indentations that looked like eyes.

 
; “Voilà.” Sarah held out her hand with a flourish. “The face rock.” She stepped a few feet back from him, darting glances around the area. Could she make a run for it?

  Fox seemed to ignore her as he strode forward to the base of the face. “This is it!” He whirled around, a grin on his face. “You did it, girly. I had my doubts, but—” He hocked up a loogie and spit.

  Sarah cringed and took another step back.

  The ground rumbled under her feet.

  She froze.

  Fox’s eyes narrowed. “Did you feel that?”

  The ground continued to vibrate. A loud chuffing sent a chill up her spine.

  “What was that?” Fox stared into the trees they’d just emerged from.

  “I don’t know.” Sarah’s hands trembled. She knew exactly what that sound was and what was headed toward them. She backed closer to Fox, not wanting to clue him in to anything. She snuck a glance at the crack in the wall, the one she and Marco had slid through.

  The chuffing grew louder.

  Her heart raced.

  “What the—!” said Fox.

  Sarah stood her ground and watched the trees.

  A glimpse of gray flashed among the branches.

  The rhinocorn!

  Sarah twirled, sprinting.

  Fox yelled.

  Sarah reached the crack and didn’t look behind her. She slipped in, scraping her arms on the rough rock. She knew there was no way Fox could fit.

  There she paused, listening over her ragged breaths.

  Other than that first yell from Fox, she’d heard nothing.

  Had the rhinocorn gotten him? Had Fox found a place to hide?

  Sarah listened a moment more, then sidestepped to her right. The rock closed in. The tightening space squeezed her as she headed toward the light at the other end. Part of her wanted to panic. This had been so much better when Marco was there with her.

  You can do this.

  Sarah squeezed her body as tight as she could. Finally, she pushed out the rest of the way and emerged in the sunshine. She leaned over and rested her hands on her knees.

  Made it.

  “I would have appreciated a warning, girly.”

  Sarah shrieked and straightened up.

  Fox stood there, arms crossed, sunglasses askew on his nose. He reached up and tried to straighten them, but they stayed that way. “Blast.” He took them off and bent them a little one way, then replaced them on his face. They were still crooked, but Sarah didn’t say so.

  Her hands trembled.

  Why couldn’t she get rid of him? The rhinocorn should have been enough.

  “Come on, you’ve got work to do.”

  Sarah frowned. “What work?”

  Fox grabbed her arm and pulled.

  She stumbled forward and took an extra-long step to regain her balance.

  Fox marched her the long way around the rock so fast that she was forced to jog. He stopped under the face and pointed at the base. “I don’t know why there’s a tree over it now, but when I left this place two years ago, my treasure was sitting right there, covered up by sand.”

  Sarah said, “Doesn’t look like it’s there now.”

  “Well, we’re gonna find out, aren’t we? Start digging.”

  Sarah’s mouth fell open a bit. “With what?”

  “Your hands, sweetie.” He lunged for her.

  She jumped back. “Fine! I’ll do it.”

  Fox patted a spot on the ground with his foot. “Right here.”

  Slowly she knelt. The ground was hard and hurt her already-stinging knees.

  “Dig!”

  Sarah blinked back tears as she scooped the dirt and pushed it away. She didn’t want to dig up his stupid treasure, mainly because she knew it wasn’t there. His treasure was in the cave with Leo.

  Sarah knew she could quit at any time; she could make it easy on herself, give in, and take him there. She didn’t know what would happen, but at least then she’d be done with him and his shoving and his yelling.

  She kept scooping and pushing.

  Where was her dad? Marco?

  No. It didn’t matter. They were depending on her. She had drawn the short straw for sure, getting stuck with Fox, but she needed to be exactly where she was to keep him away from the treasure.

  “All you’re doing is sweeping that stuff around!”

  Sarah scowled. “I’m doing the best I can.”

  “Start digging. Get in there.”

  Fox’s toe nudged her leg.

  “Stop it!” Sarah jumped to her feet and flung out her hands, sending dirt everywhere. “Stop being mean! Your stupid treasure isn’t even here—” Sarah stopped. Oh no!

  Fox took a step back and removed his sunglasses. His eyes narrowed.

  Sarah dropped to her knees and began digging in earnest.

  Fox grabbed her arm and yanked her up. “You know where my treasure is?”

  Sarah stared at the ground and shook her head.

  “Hey! Look at me?”

  Sarah scrunched her eyes shut.

  “Show me where it is.” Fox set her down on the ground.

  Sarah opened her eyes. “I don’t know where it is,” she whispered.

  “You’re lying. I don’t like it when people lie to me.”

  Sarah had been digging all right. Only it was herself, right into a hole. “Fine. Someone else has it.”

  “Really.” Fox held out a hand. “Well, let’s see now. There’s you.” He popped up one finger. “And your stepmother.” Another finger. “And the sailboat guy’s granddaughter.” A third finger. “Seems like I’ve accounted for everyone.” He crossed his arms. “How ’bout you tell me just who I’m missing here.”

  Sarah said nothing.

  “NOW!”

  Sarah jumped. “The Curator!”

  Fox frowned. “The what?”

  Sarah spit out the words so fast they all blended as one: “Helivesinthecaveandhecameheretogetanimalsandyourtreasurebelongedtohispeoplefirstandgotstolenfromatribeinafrica—”

  “Africa.” Fox rubbed his chin. “I brought that treasure all the way from Africa.”

  “You stole it.”

  “I bought it!”

  Sarah shook her head. “Then you bought it from the thief! It doesn’t belong to you.”

  “Listen here—” He took a step toward her.

  She backed up.

  “Take me there. Now.”

  Sarah wanted to tell him no. She didn’t want him anywhere near that treasure, which happened to be the progenitor, the astonishing, one-of-a-kind device that duplicated things and belonged to Leo and his alien race.

  There was no telling what Fox would do if he found it.

  Fox crossed his arms. “Maybe you’d be more inclined if we went back to your stepmother and—”

  “No!” She didn’t know what he was going to say, but she didn’t want him anywhere near Yvonna. Maybe Leo could help. If she got Fox to the cave, maybe Leo could immobilize him or freeze him or something.

  She pointed. “We have to go that way, back toward the beach.”

  “If this is another lie, I swear, I’ll—”

  Sarah shook her head vigorously. “No, I’m telling the truth. I’ll take you the fastest way I know.”

  “Fine. Lead the way.”

  Sarah set off toward the beach. As she walked, she halfway hoped that the sharkodile would show up. And that it would have a particular taste for creeps with ugly hats and crooked sunglasses and bad attitudes.

  6

  Marco’s solar plexus had taken the brunt of the blow. He curled up, forehead to the ground, waiting for some oxygen to make its way into his lungs. Slowly his diaphragm relaxed and a gasp of air trickled in, and then another. He slowly sat up, tensing as he faced his attacker.

  His mouth fell open.

  “Sorry.” Nacho stood there, brandishing his backpack in both hands, biting his lip. “Thought you were a bad guy.”

  Marco sprung up and grabbed him.

&n
bsp; “I said I was sorry!” Nacho tried to pull away, only to find himself wrapped in a hug.

  “I’m so glad to see you.”

  Nacho relaxed in Marco’s arms. “You are?”

  “Believe it or not.” Marco let go. “Tell me what happened back at camp.”

  “Well, the bad guy came to shore.”

  “Fox?”

  “Yeah. He tied Cash up and chased Ahab off and then he went out and brought back Sarge and that lady.” Nacho scrunched up his nose. “I don’t like her.”

  Marco smiled. “Me neither. What about Sarah?”

  “She went with Fox. I tried to untie her and Cash, but the knots were too tight and—” His eyes filled with tears.

  Marco set a hand on his head. “Hey, it’s okay.”

  “I really wanted to help.”

  “I know.” Marco scratched his chin. “We’ve got to help now.”

  “Did you get John free?”

  “Yeah I did. Well, Leo did. John swam out to the boat to call for help.”

  Nacho grinned. “So we’re getting saved?”

  “Not sure. Maybe.” Marco’s gaze darted around the trees. “Look, we need to get farther away from camp.”

  “But we have to help them.” Nacho frowned. “We can’t leave Mom.”

  “I gave her some of Leo’s medicine.”

  Nacho’s eyes grew big. “Did it make her better?”

  “I couldn’t stay to find out.”

  “Oh.” Nacho slumped. “Do you think it did?”

  Although he had no idea, Marco said, “I’m sure it did.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “Well, if Sarah took him to the face rock, I guess that’s where we need to go.” Marco frowned and tried to get his bearings. They could cut back out to the beach and take the path he and Sarah had taken to the face rock. Or he could fumble his way through the trees, a gamble, as he would simply be guessing.

  “What was that?” asked Nacho.

  Marco hadn’t heard anything. “What was what—?”

  A rustling in the underbrush sent a chill down his neck. “Come on,” he whispered, and pulled Nacho closer to a tree. It wasn’t enough to hide them; he could only hope they’d be passed by.

  Through the greenery a few yards away, black fur flashed.

  Marco’s hands shook as he pushed his brother a few steps behind him.

  The rustling grew closer.

  “Marco?”

  “Shhh!” He could think only of the black cat, the one that attacked Leo’s grandfather. If it came for them, he had no knife, no defense—