Survival by Gordon Korman Page A

“Personally, I don’t think about him at all,” he replied sourly. “But now that you mention it, I hope the biggest shark in the ocean swam up and bit his ugly head off.”
    Radford had proved to be much more than just a seagoing bully. With the boat crippled and slowly sinking, he had slipped off during the night in the schooner’s twelve-foot dinghy, taking most of their food with him. In effect, he had left them to die. It had been that predicament — and their efforts to restart the engine — that had led to the explosion and fire that had scuttled the ship.
    “But do you think he could have made it back to Guam?” asked Charla.
    “Ratface is an experienced sailor,” Luke mused, emptying another shell, “but he was in the open Pacific in a tiny boat. One good wave could have flipped him.”
    “He’s fine,” scoffed JJ. “It’s all part of the game.”
    “In your fantasy world,” Charla added unkindly.
    “Well, he never could have survived for real on that pile of Popsicle sticks.” The actor’s son shrugged. “His own B.O. would have killed him.”
    “Big joke,” snorted Luke. “That guy’s as bad as the men from the plane. Worse, because he was getting paid ‘tolook after us.” His wrist shook, and he brought his lips to the coconut shell to suck up the spilled water. “Just hearing his name again makes me nuts.”
    The five had decided to bed down in the inflatable lifeboat. The sand of the beach was soft and comfortable, but four nights of ant bites had convinced them it was time for a new home. As the others retired to divvy up sleeping space, Lyssa remained outside to trim down their fire — a sensible precaution to avoid being noticed by the men on the other side of the island.
    It was an eerie feeling: killers out there, somewhere in the blackness. Almost too much to accept. After everything else that had happened — murderers on the very same tiny cay where both groups of castaways had washed ashore.
    She saw a flicker of light coming from the woods. Her first reaction was panic. It was them!
    She squinted into the gloom. Nothing. Were her eyes playing tricks on her?
    Suddenly, a hand reached out from behind and clamped down hard over her mouth. Her scream was smothered by the powerful grip. She struggled, but her attacker had too firm a hold.
    And then — a whisper in her ear:
    “Cut it out, Lyss! It’s me!”
    Will? If he hadn’t been clutching her so tightly, she would have dropped like a stone from relief.
    You’realive! What happened to you? Don’t you remember the shipwreck ? The thoughts darted around in her head. There was so much to say. But when she opened her mouth she couldn’t speak. Mute, she wheeled and embraced her brother. He resisted for an instant and then wrapped his arms around her. They held each other with an intensity that momentarily canceled out the danger, the horror, the fear. A small part of Lyssa, standing strangely distant from herself, noted that this was the first time she could ever remember hugging Will.
    She found her voice at last. “I can’t believe it’s you.”
    “Shhh!” He stiffened, pulled back. “They’ll hear us. We’ve got to get out of here right now!”
    “Will, they’re our friends.”
    “Don’t listen to them, Lyss,” Will warned. “Everything they say is a lie. They told me you were dead.”
    “They thought I was,” Lyssa reasoned. “I thought the same thing about them after the boat sank. About you too.”
    Clutching his torch, Will backed up a step, wide-eyed with shock. “They’ve got you brainwashed!”
    “No — “
    She stopped herself from arguing, because, for the first time, she had gotten a really good look at her brother. He had lost weight — they all had, but it was much more noticeable on the sturdy Will. His hair was matted, his eyes wild, and he had more bug bites than skin. A crude bow was slung over one bony shoulder. He smelled terrible. He was like a savage, she thought in agony. She had no