He handed the cage to Colton. “I think the cats are okay. We can drop the others off at the rescue place. It should be easy to find the owners with all the cat posters in town.”
“Did those ticks make them sleepy?” Blake looked puzzled.
Sam shrugged. “I guess.”
“Did you keep one to show a vet?” asked Owen.
“No,” said Sam. “I flicked them in the water before they could burrow into something else—like my arm.” The cats started howling in a chorus of horrible harmony.
“They sound fully awake now,” said Colton.
Once more Colton offered them a ride, and once more the expression on Blake’s face made Sam decline. Colton and Blake were taking the cats to the rescue shelter, and then they were going to file a police report about the cats being stolen, so they’d be pretty late getting back. Sam might as well cycle Owen home.
“The cops might be interested in your story about some kind of underground cavern and lab at Sinistrus Mansion,” Blake told Sam.
“See you in astronomy class,” Owen chirped as he climbed on Sam’s bike, Pix wriggling in his pack. They took off for home. After Sam dropped Owen off, he kept the pack and rode as Pix writhed inside it, banging against Sam’s back.
“We’ll be home soon,” Sam promised. “Hold on a little longer, poor little guy.” As he rode, Sam thought about the night. He liked a good adventure, especially one with real thrills and chills.
However, he decided he wasn’t interested in revisiting Croaker’s Island anytime soon—as in, probably never.
× × ×
THE NEXT MORNING, after Sam had received ten thousand hugs from Molly and Pix had enjoyed a hero’s welcome (even though Sam was the one who rescued him), Sam dodged Babcia’s questions by saying he’d got up super early to search on his bike for Pix and had found him up the coast—all of which was true. There was no need to mention early was 2:00 a.m. and where on the coast he’d been out riding. Dory favoured him with a piercing gaze, but she didn’t ask any questions—fortunately.
On Monday at Seacrest Middle School, Sam waited for Khallie Saran at her locker. As she approached, she waved brightly to Sam.
“Looking forward to astronomy class? I sure am.” She smiled.
“You can go? Aren’t you grounded?”
Khallie looked puzzled. “Me, no, why do you ask?” She swung her locker door open.
“You didn’t show up at the carnival,” Sam said.
“Yeah, I fell asleep on the couch and didn’t wake up until about one o’clock in the morning.” She looked disappointed. “Apparently Blake and Owen and other kids called me, but I didn’t even hear my phone.”
The school bell rang and Khallie scooped up a textbook from her shelf. “See you later?”
“Wait.” Sam reached into his pocket and handed Khallie her silver heart and ruby charm bracelet. “Did you lose this somewhere?”
Khallie reached for her bracelet, placed it on her wrist, and gazed at it thoughtfully. “I guess. I mean I looked for it on my dresser this morning, but I thought I’d just misplaced it.” She looked at Sam. “Where’d you find it?”
“On Croaker’s Island.”
Khallie’s eyes widened. She shook her head and kept looking at her bracelet. When she looked back at Sam, it was straight past him over his shoulder, avoiding his gaze. “Th . . . thank you.”
“So you’ve never been to Croaker’s Island?”
Khallie shook her head. “Like I said, no, and you shouldn’t have gone there either. Everybody knows there’s something wrong with that place.”
“Oh, I believe that,” said Sam. Then Khallie rushed off to class, leaving Sam standing in the hall. The second bell rang, and Sam knew he’d get a late slip—and he hadn’t even handed his medical records to the nurse yet. Babcia had made him promise to do it first thing.
“I don’t know why the nurse is so adamant about this,” Babcia had complained. “I had to have your father send it, and that’s not easy when he’s deployed away from his base. But she phoned daily and was adamant even though you’re up to date in all your immunizations.”
Except, at the moment, Sam couldn’t move.
Fact: Khallie had slept through the whole fall fair when a bunch more cats went missing.
Fact: Khallie lost her bracelet.
Fact: Some crazy cat stealer found it and dropped it on Croaker’s Island.
His problem of putting one and one and one together was that he didn’t think, in this case, it equalled three. Instead, he could only think of one question.
What was Khallie Saran hiding?
The tardy bell rang, and he rushed for the nurse’s office with his immunization records. The nurse’s office was empty, but the secretary told Sam to put his records on her desk. He didn’t mean to snoop, but in a small pile on the corner of her desk were yellow medical folders. The top one had Angel Chan’s name on it. Dane Parsons, Gina’s friend, was the name on the second file. He flipped through a few more files and didn’t recognize any names, but he guessed they were high schoolers like Dane and Angel.
Sam didn’t open any files or look inside. That would just be wrong. But he also didn’t have to. Each file had a fluorescent green sticky note on top. Each note stated: had measles; had mumps; had whooping cough . . .
The last file on the bottom had a sticky note stating: had chicken pox.
The name on that file was Khallie Saran.
× 18 ×
LEFT IN THE DUST
AFTER THE LAST bell, Sam rushed out of his classroom and grabbed his bike in the rack by the parking lot.
“Pssst, Sam, over here.”
Sam braked and glanced over his shoulder. “Behind you.”
Sam turned around and spotted Blake and his brother in the van that Colton had parked behind a blazing red maple tree. The window was rolled down, and Blake was signalling for him. Sam’s bike crunched across the gravel and onto the parking lot.
“How’s your cat?” Blake asked.
Sam shrugged his shoulders. “Pix seems fine. What about the other cats?”
“The vet at the shelter gave them a quick check and they were fine too. They were all returned to their owners.”
Colton, who was in the driver’s seat, leaned over and said, “The vet wished you’d saved one of those ticks, though. Ticks that make cats practically comatose isn’t something she’d ever heard of before.”
“I just didn’t want one to bite me.”
“Yeah, I get it,” said Blake with a slight shudder. “Certain things, leeches and ticks and anything that burrows and sucks blood aren’t something you want to hold in your hand.”
“Got that right,” agreed Sam. “What . . . what’s wrong?” he said, noticing the uncomfortable expression that both brothers had, making them look a lot more alike.
“Well, Colton went to the police station to report the cats and the weird lab and . . . ”
“They need to talk to Owen or me?” offered Sam. Blake looked antsy. Other kids were coming down the sidewalk. He probably wanted to get going.
Colton scratched his head. “The police basically accused you guys of pulling some stupid prank. I had to do some fast talking so they didn’t think you stole the cats yourselves or trespassed on private property.” Colton gripped the steering wheel and favoured Sam with a long serious stare. “Which I don’t think you did, of course, but . . . ”
“But what?” Sam sputtered. “Something weird is up with Sinistrus Mansion. I thought they’d send out a police boat.”
Blake shook his head. “The police say the mansion is built on bedrock. There’s no way there could be a basement, that there never was a basement, that you guys were wasting their time and it’s a serious misdemeanour, something called . . . ”
“Causing mischief,” Colton finished. “Are you sure that . . . ”
Sam heard Ravi and Andy in the background. They were walking fast and calling Blake’s name. He saw Blake wince and without even saying a
nything to his brother, Colton started the engine.
“I’m sure of what I saw,” Sam said quickly.
“We’ll talk more in astronomy.” Blake waved goodbye as Colton pulled away from the curb.
“Blake, wait, dude, how’s it going?” Ravi shouted.
“Hey, man, are you coming back to school now?” Andy broke into a run. “We miss you.”
Colton braked but kept the van’s engine running.
“I’ve gotta go,” Blake called to his friends. “But soon, dudes, soon. We’ll get together.”
They all waved and grinned.
“And you guys should get Sam to join the rowing team. He’s good.”
They glanced at Sam, not exactly looking convinced, but they all nodded in agreement.
“Sure.”
“If you say so, Blake.”
“We could use another man.”
“Are you going to be rowing too? We need you to qualify for the provincial summer games.”
“Hey, Blake, Sam!” Owen ran over. “How are the cats? Did you find the owners? What did the police say?”
“Whaa . . . ” sputtered Andy staring at Owen. “Get real. Do you even know who you’re talking to?”
Sam watched as Blake simply shook his head and shrugged at his friends, almost in slow motion. “Later, guys,” he called, and the van pulled away. Owen was left in the dust, staring down at his not too trendy running shoes.
“Freak.” Andy shoved Owen. Then Ravi shoulder-punched him as they walked past him. Owen looked up at Sam, turned on his heels, and walked away.
Sam should have said something, done . . . something.
× × ×
THAT NIGHT, SAM was fixing himself a mozzarella and leftover meatball sandwich in the kitchen.
“Sammy, Sam, come here!” screeched Molly.
“What?” He raced to Molly and Dory’s room. He thought it interesting how one half of the room had a tidy bed, books stacked neatly on shelves, and boxes of crayons, pencil crayons, and gel pens placed carefully on top of the dresser. In the other half of the room, the bed was buried under a heap of clothes, open books, their pages bent back, scattered schoolwork, and—Sam blushed—girls’ underwear. How did Dory find anything?
“What’s up?” he asked Molly, longing to return to the kitchen and bite into the juicy sandwich that he’d just pulled out of the toaster oven. He could smell the spicy meatballs.
Molly rubbed her eyes and yawned. She padded across the floor in her bare feet, tugging a quilt over her pajamas. “Those wicked cat-napper people were calling for Pix again.” Molly glared. “But I slammed the window shut and closed the curtains,” she said with a nod of her chin. She folded her arms and stamped her foot. “Somebody should arrest them.”
Sam raced to the window and yanked open the curtain. He gazed out into the dark night. Charcoal clouds covered the sky, blotting out the stars and any moonlight. A shrill wind whipped up the bluff and rattled the branches in the arbutus tree in their yard, yanking off a bunch of its leaves.
“Are you sure you didn’t hear the wind?” Sam asked.
“I’m sure. They have a whistle and they blow it, and Pix wants to go out and play with them.”
“I didn’t hear any whistle.” Sam gazed through the window again, but he couldn’t see anyone outside.
“Course not, silly,” Molly sounded exasperated. “Only Pix hears the whistle.”
“How do you know?” Sam tugged the curtains shut.
“Because he goes crazy,” Molly explained. “He jumped on the window sill, knocked down my doll, and started bashing the window with his head, trying to get outside.”
Her Raggedy Ann was sprawled on the floor. But Pix was lying on her bed, purring softly. “Good work, detective Molly,” Sam said. “I think you foiled those diabolical cat-nappers.”
“What’s foiled?” Molly scrunched her face.
“I mean, you stopped them and saved Pix.” Sam roughed her hair and steered her back to bed. “C’mon, time for sleep.”
“Where’s Dory?” Molly half-whined. “I’m scared.”
“No, you’re not,” Sam said softly. “You just fended off a gang of cat-nappers. You rock.” Molly smiled, although she didn’t look convinced.
“Dory will be back practically by the time you close your eyes,” he promised.
“Okay, Sammy Sam, but tuck us in.” Molly dived onto her bed. Sam lifted the comforter and pulled it tight. Then he folded part of her quilt over Pix, tucking him in as well. When he turned out the bedroom light, both of them were snoring.
The kitchen door slammed, and Dory rushed inside.
“Where were you?” Sam asked.
“None of your business,” she said.
“It’s my business.” Babcia leaned out of her study. “Come and discuss why you are late for curfew, young lady. And why that has also made you rude to your brother.”
“I went to the movies with my friend Angel and she went for popcorn near the end of the movie and didn’t return. I kept waiting for her to come back.” Dory sounded super annoyed. “Then I drove back to her place to find out what happened, but she wasn’t home. She dumped me. But you can’t ground me for being a concerned person, right?”
Sam took his plate with the tantalizing meatball sandwich, walked past Babcia’s study, and said goodnight.
Like Molly’s side of the room, Sam’s bedroom showed spit and polish. He could bounce a quarter off his tightly tucked blanket. That’s how their dad liked things done, with military precision. Dory, on the other hand, had been mostly raised by her mother, and Sam had only visited one of her homes once. He vaguely remembered a lot of beads, incense, and hanging crystals.
Sam took one more longing look at his juicy sandwich and placed it on his bedside table. Then he opened his window and his checkered curtain fluttered in the strong briny sea breeze. He took a deep breath, climbed out, and got on his bike.
If people were trying to steal cats, Sam knew where they were headed.
× 19 ×
AN EERIE SYNCHRONICITY
SAM CYCLED TO the wharf across from Croaker’s Island. The night was dark and windy. Thick clouds shrouded the island, although Sam thought the clouds over Sinistrus Mansion appeared more green than grey. The tide was out and the pungent smell of kelp filled the air. He chained his bike to a pylon under the wharf, just as he caught sight of shadows moving down from a bluff toward the shore. Sam stepped behind the pylon to hide.
Eight people shuffled past him in a stiff woodenly gait as they crossed the sand stealthily and without uttering a single word. Sam caught his breath and gaped at the macabre parade before him. They were all teenagers.
One by one, the young people lined up in single file along the shore, facing Croaker’s Island. At the rear of the line, two of them placed a large carrying case on the beach—the case was like the one Colton had given them for transporting the cats. The rest of the teens stood motionless along the shore.
“Meow, meow. . . ” Sam heard scratching inside the case. He crept toward it, staying hidden behind the wharf pylons. His heart pounded inside his rib cage, but he almost laughed in relief and stepped out when he recognized Angel Chan. This had to be some practical joke. At the last moment he caught sight of the frozen, dead gaze on her face—her empty eyes made the hair on the back of his neck prickle. He decided to stay put for the time being.
A mechanical chugging, like pistons falling into place, rose offshore: thug, click, thug, click, and water began boiling in a direct line from Croaker’s Island toward the teens. Sea water splashed as a vertical wave formed. But the wave was forming opposite the tidal pull. How could that be?
Sam watched in amazement as a strange metal stepping bridge surfaced from the waves. That’s what had scraped the boat hull when he, Blake, and Owen had rowed to the island. Their boat had crossed the ridges of it. Sam scratched his head. He’d never seen such weird technology.
A witchy phosphorescent blue-green beam flashed below t
he surface of the water, illuminating the flat, smooth metal bridge, which looked like the backs of giant metal tortoises linked in a narrow chain. The shells rose above the water in soft splashes, making a pathway of stepping stones to Croaker’s Island. One by one, the teens began moving on top of the water in an eerie synchronicity, shuffling so stiffly that Sam wondered if these were Molly’s zombies.
Sam’s jaw dropped. Also illuminated in the witchy light was one young person that he knew was most certainly not a zombie.
Khallie Saran!
Sam’s head whirled. Kind, sweet, caring Khallie was a cat-stealer? He . . . he couldn’t believe it. But the evidence was right in front of his face. Why? He snapped out of his shock and got to work fast.
Sam crept past the slippery rocks and slime under the wharf until he was directly behind the pylon where Angel had placed the carrying case. As the two teens waited for their turn to cross, Sam reached and pulled the case toward him until he could unlock it. Three cats shot out. A grey tabby bit him and a calico scratched him as they made their escape. “You’re welcome,” Sam muttered under his breath.
Angel and the tall boy beside her seemed oblivious to what was happening right next to them. It was as if they were completely out of it, dazed and focused only on wading up to their knees in the still surf and walking across the water.
Sam slipped two slimy boulders inside the pet case so it was roughly the same weight as before and pushed it back. He’d barely got the cage latched when Angel and the boy reached down in unison and hoisted the case, with Angel in front and the boy behind. They waded into the water and stepped onto the first metal plate.
The Mystery of Croaker's Island Page 8