No Ollie.
“Ollie!” yelled Coco. “Ollie!”
Why—what could possibly make her go off by herself, with a giant snake loose and her dad here, sick? What—
Or had something grabbed her? Brian wondered, cold to his bones. No—they’d have noticed. Wouldn’t they?
“Ollie!” they all shouted.
Silence. Only a faint wind, high up, whispered through the pines, and rocks groaned with the slight movement of the lake, back and forth. It was very cold now, and the stars were coming out.
“No,” Ollie’s dad muttered. His voice was fading. His breathing sounded horrible. “No, I won’t. Never. Never never—”
Then someone kicked a rock behind them; Brian spun, along with the others. His heart beat high and fast in his throat.
Rocks rolled down the steep slope of the beach. They all stiffened, looking for the silver gleam of the beast in the shadows—and then Ollie’s voice, reassuring, was calling back, “It’s me. I’m fine.”
Not just reassuring; she sounded steadier than she’d sounded since the Cassandra sank. She was running back toward them, her feet quick on the rolling rocks.
“Ollie,” whispered her dad, and he didn’t sound steady at all; his voice was full of a strange, vague horror.
“Ollie,” said Coco, in a voice that didn’t even sound like herself, it was so frightened and angry. “Where were you?”
Ollie didn’t say anything, just knelt at once down beside her dad. “Hey,” she said to him. And to Coco, without turning her head, she said, “I had to pee. Calm down.”
Ms. Zintner said, “Ollie, you know better than to wander off without telling anyone.”
“Yep,” said Ollie. “I do.” She didn’t sound sorry at all. “How’s it going, Dad?” She glanced from his face to her watch.
Coco said suddenly, “Ollie, that countdown. How long do we still have?”
“Oh?” said Ollie. “Oh, that. That’s okay. It’s stopped now.”
She busied herself over her dad and didn’t say anything else about it. Brian thought, There’s something she’s not telling us.
“What did you do?” Ollie’s dad was whispering. “Ollie. I saw him. What did you do?”
“I had to pee, Dad,” said Ollie. “You didn’t see anything. You’re very sick.”
Was she lying? Brian wasn’t sure. Ollie was a good liar. And he couldn’t see her face. Just her silhouette against the starlit water as she handed her dad the water bottle. But why would she lie to them? She wouldn’t. Also, where would she have gone? There wasn’t anywhere to go.
“No,” said Ollie’s dad, turning his head away. “Ollie, no. I saw him. I saw him, and he said—”
“Dad,” said Ollie, gently and firmly. She sounded like the grown-up, calm and a little sad, and for some reason, that scared Brian. “You’re just hallucinating. Drink some water. Water is super important. That’s what you always tell me, right? Gotta hydrate . . .”
He was staring up at her face and seemed almost lucid. “I was—I was dreaming?” he said. “I—but he—seemed real.”
“There’s no one here but us,” said Ollie.
“Okay,” said her dad. Ollie helped him drink out of the water bottle.
He drank and drank and gasped. “That’s vile. What’s up with the water?” His voice sounded stronger than it had all evening. Brian felt a surge of hope. Maybe Mr. Adler would be okay!
“Iodine,” said Ollie. Her eyes never left her dad’s face. “There was emergency iodine in the survival pack on the lifeboat. Gotta be safe, and drink clean water. Dad—you sound better. Are you better?”
Mr. Adler wiped his mouth. He looked up. “Where are we?” he said. He did sound better. “I—I’ve been having such weird dreams. Where’s the Cassandra?”
“Roger, you sound so much better!” said Coco’s mom. “We’ve been worried.”