Dark Waters

“All right,” said Brian, and took a deep breath. “Well, we need a fire. That’s the first thing. Someone out on the lake might see the smoke. And even if—” He swallowed. “If no one comes quick, then we’re going to want a fire tonight. To stay warm, to dry off. We don’t have enough clothes or blankets. Coco, are there emergency matches in the kit?”

Coco knelt to look. After a moment’s digging, she held them up. Brian put them in his pocket.

“What about iodine tablets?” said Brian, and when Coco looked a little puzzled, he added, “For purifying water.”

Coco, frowning, poked through the kit again. This time she held up a bottle.

“There’s another bottle in there too,” put in Phil. “A big one. Collapsible. To hold water.” His voice was small, but at least he was listening now. The shadows stretched out from the forest toward them, like tentacles.

“Here,” said Coco. “Found it.”

“Okay,” said Brian. “We need firewood. As much as we can get. Someone will see it pretty quick, I’m sure. Camping without a permit is illegal. Someone will come investigate a fire.” He wasn’t sure that was true. But it sounded encouraging.

Ms. Zintner managed a smile. “You’re good at this, Brian,” she said. “Can you boys go and get firewood? I’ll keep trying to get the radio working. I might have to pull it apart to see what’s wrong.”

“Mom’s good with machines,” Coco said, and smiled, a little wobbly, at her mom. “She fixes the car and everything.”

Brian didn’t think it was a technical problem that was keeping the radio from working, and he could tell that Coco didn’t think so either. But there wasn’t really any point in saying that. He couldn’t see Ollie’s face at all. Just the top of her dark head as she bent over her dad.

“Ollie,” said Coco softly, kneeling down by her friend. “Does your watch say anything?”

Ollie shrugged. She didn’t look up. “It started a countdown,” she said. “For—for five hours from now.”

“That’s good,” said Brian. “We’ve got some time, then. Any idea what it’s for?”

Ollie shook her head.

Brian glanced up. There were gray clouds gathering over the mountains in the distance.

I can do this, Brian told himself. Last time, in the haunted lodge, I couldn’t do anything. But I know about survival stuff. I can do this. I can keep everyone safe.

“Well, we need firewood, no matter what,” said Brian. “You with me, Phil?”

Phil nodded once, still looking lost.

“I’ll go too,” said Coco. She didn’t like forests, Brian knew. They scared her. But Coco was really brave. Because a lot of things scared her, and she did what she thought was best anyway. “I can—” Her voice cracked. “I can help with the firewood. I think I’ll do more good that way.”

“Okay, hon,” said her mother doubtfully. “But don’t get lost, all right?”

“?’Kay,” said Coco.

“I’m staying here to take care of my dad,” said Ollie. “I’ll fill up the water bottle and put in the iodine tablets.” She was digging into the emergency kit again as she spoke. “Hey—what’s this?” she said.

“A smoke signal!” Brian said. “It’ll make a lot of bright orange smoke. Someone is bound to see it!” Gingerly, he unscrewed the top of the smoke signal and put it on the ground. Instantly an enormous plume of brilliant orange smoke leapt up, hissing.

As soon as he saw it, Brian felt better. If there’s anyone around, they’ll see it, he thought. It’s huge.

But only if there’s anyone around, whispered another part of his brain. He ignored that part. “All right,” said Brian. “Awesome. Now, how about that firewood? Let’s go. Um, Ollie, Ms. Zintner? If a boat comes, just blow the whistle. And if not, we’ll have a cozy fire to sit by until it does get here.”

Brian headed for the woods, followed by Phil and Coco.

But Brian froze when he heard a hiss. A crackling noise, like static.

“Hey,” said Coco’s mom. “Hey—that’s the radio!” She jumped over. “They must be broadcasting—have seen the smoke. Hello? Hello. Mayday, Mayday, request immediate assistance . . .”

No answer. Just the crackling. They all fell silent, listening. Brian frowned. There was the crackle of static, sure. But under that noise, it sounded like . . . breathing?

“Hello?” said Ms. Zintner again. “We were passengers on the Cassandra, out of Burlington, requesting immediate . . .”