Island of Fog (Book 1) (5 page)

It seemed to take ages for the full length of the serpent to undulate past, its girth narrowing to the blunt tip of a snake-like tail as it went. It slid away under the surface and a current tugged at the raft, causing it to bounce up and down.

Hal gripped the shovel in one hand and scrabbled for a secure hold on the raft with the other. Every muscle in his body was taut. He was shivering hard, and his breath came in rasps. He felt powerless. What could they do? That thing could capsize them with a flick of its tail, or chomp them in one mouthful.

“We’ve gotta paddle,” he said. “Ready? Three, two, one, go.”

He began paddling, but Robbie was frozen in place, gripping the shovel over his head.

“Robbie, stop gawking and paddle!”

“Can’t.”

“Yes you can! I can’t do this on my own—”

Robbie mumbled something.

Hal frowned. “What? What did you say?”

“It’s coming back.”

Out of the fog came the monstrous snake, its enormous bulk slicing easily through the water toward them. Its head lifted slowly—three feet wide with glistening white scales the size of fists, long drooping fins that stuck out from behind its lower jaw, and yellow eyes as big as plates. The serpent stared right at them, unblinking, emotionless. Its mouth opened just a fraction, enough for a shining black forked tongue to slip out, quiver, and slip back in again.

Robbie began yelling. He dropped the shovel onto the deck and scrambled back, bumping into his friend. Hal woke from his temporary paralysis.

“Robbie, there’s nowhere to go—be careful or you’ll—”

Too late. As the raft bobbed to one side, Robbie’s shovel slipped off the deck and into the water with a tiny plop, gone forever.

But now the serpent was right over them, glaring down with baleful eyes. Water ran in rivulets down its scaled face and spattered the raft. The serpent’s tongue flicked out again and quivered, lingering this time, as if tasting the air. A nasty rotting smell engulfed the frightened boys, and they recoiled as a deep hissing sound filled their ears.

“We’re dead, we’re dead, we’re dead,” Robbie was mumbling, his voice muffled. He had both hands over his face and was rocking back and forth.

As Hal stared up at the monster, something strange came over him. Some of his fear drained away, and determination crept into his heart. With a shaky voice, he spoke to the serpent. “Leave us alone. I mean it. Or you’ll be sorry.”

His fingers tightened around the shovel.

The serpent moved closer, somehow able to tread water and keep its head poised above them. The fins behind its lower jaw hung dripping and limp, and now Hal saw other fins farther along its body, just below the surface, fanning back and forth. Hal imagined the serpent’s endless length undulating from side to side below the surface, deep within the murky depths. He shuddered and wished he could erase that creepy image.

The serpent’s mouth opened partway, and the rotten stench caused Hal to recoil in disgust. He swung upwards with all his strength, and the shovel caught the monster a resounding smack on the chin.

Hal thought he saw surprise flash across the serpent’s huge unblinking eyes as it backed away. It tilted its head once more and stared at him.

“See what you get when you mess with us!” Hal shouted, his face heating up. Panic gave way to the anger that bubbled up from deep inside. He felt breathless. His throat burned and he felt a crawling sensation all over his body. “Come back for some more, you worm!”

To his astonishment, the serpent slipped below the surface.

Hal searched the water. He saw flashes of white, then felt a bump under the raft. “It’s going to sink us,” he said, his anger suddenly evaporating and horror setting in. Would it pull them under and wait until they drowned before chewing them up? Or would it just
swallow them alive?

The raft lifted, and both boys made a grab for the deck. Hal’s shovel—the last remaining paddle—dropped out of his hands and slid off the deck into the water with a plop. “This is it,” he muttered between gritted teeth.

“I don’t want to die!” Robbie wailed.

The raft tilted a little to one side but continued to rise out of the water until all four plastic drums were clear. Now Hal saw the monster’s broad, flat head below the deck, with its slick scaly skin. The raft wobbled as the serpent began cruising through the water.

Hal’s mouth fell open.
What—?

Cruising through the water? Why wasn’t it capsizing them? Why would it lift them up and carry them through the fog? It didn’t make any sense.

Unless it was taking them to its lair, or whatever sea serpents called their homes. Maybe it wasn’t hungry yet. Maybe it wanted to save them for later, by storing them in its larder. Maybe they’d find the skeletons of other people stored there, people who’d been swallowed whole and their bones spat out.

Robbie was moaning, his eyes jammed shut.

“Hey,” Hal said, poking him, “we’re not dead yet. It’s taking us to its lair. There’s still hope.”

“There’s no hope,” Robbie said, shaking his head. “We’re dead. We should never have tried this.”

The serpent continued to slide through the water, seeming to know where it was headed even though the thick fog revealed nothing.

Then the fog thinned and Hal caught sight of land. He squinted, and his mouth fell open. “Robbie. Robbie, look. The docks.”

Robbie’s eyes snapped open. “What?”

The serpent slowed as it approached the jetty, then sank out of sight, lowering the raft back into the water. Momentum carried the raft onwards, and Hal and Robbie sat in silence as they bobbed the rest of the way to the jetty. Seconds later they bumped against one of the posts, and Hal instinctively reached for it, his mouth hanging open.

Glancing around, he caught a flash of white, and then the water swelled as massive scaly coils broke the surface and the monster circled around.

The boys scrambled onto the jetty, bumping heads in their hurry to get off the raft. The moment they were clear, the serpent raised its head out of the water once more and descended on them. Hal and Robbie yelled and crouched low, knowing it was already too late . . .

But nothing happened except a loud splash. Hal felt cold seawater spatter over him, and he jerked upright and snapped his eyes open. Where had the monster gone? There—gliding away through the fog, receding into the distance . . . with the small, pathetic raft perched at an angle on its head. In half a minute it faded into the gloom, and everything was quiet.

Hal and Robbie stared in stunned silence.

Abigail came pounding along the jetty, her face white. “The sea serpent! That was the sea serpent!”

Robbie climbed to his feet. “No, really? What, that giant monster in the sea that nearly ate us alive just now? Never!”

“Are you okay, Hal?” Abigail said, ignoring Robbie and looking down at where Hal sat on the jetty. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Hal puffed out his cheeks and got up. “So now we know the sea serpent exists. I just can’t believe it didn’t eat us.”

“What
happened
out there?” Abigail asked. “I couldn’t see anything through the fog, but I heard shouts—and was that Robbie screaming like a girl?”

Robbie’s face turned red. “I wasn’t screaming, just yelling. Hal gave the serpent a whack on the chin, but then it snatched the shovel right out of his hands and crunched it up. So I got annoyed and threw mine at it. Caught it in the eye.”

Hal glanced with surprise at his friend, and started to grin.

“Really?” Abigail said skeptically. “And it was so frightened that it decided to bring you back safe and sound?”

“That’s what I can’t figure out,” Hal said. “Why’d it bring us back? You reckon it’s some sort of guard, to keep us on the island?”

Abigail turned and gazed at him with an expression he couldn’t fathom. “You could be right. And if that’s true—why? Is it there for our protection, to keep us from sailing out into the fog and getting lost? Or do you think it’s there to keep all of us prisoners?”

“Prisoners!” Robbie looked scornful. “What, our parents too?”

“It explains why they’ve never tried to leave,” Abigail went on, staring out into the fog over the sea. “Yes, maybe we’re all prisoners. It fits with another theory I have.”

Robbie turned away, shaking his head. “You’re crazy,” he mumbled. “It’s just some giant snake in the water that wasn’t hungry. We got lucky.”

“And that’s why it brought you back to the jetty and took the raft away?” Abigail said. She clicked her tongue. “Come on, Robbie, I know there’s a brain in there somewhere. Try using it for a change.”

Hal shivered. His jeans were wet and cold, and standing around talking wasn’t helping. “Let’s go,” he said. “Tell me this theory of yours, Abi.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Robbie said. “She doesn’t know anything.”

However, Abigail looked pleased. “You really want to hear? Okay.” She walked alongside Hal, leaving Robbie to tail behind. “We imagine Out There as some huge place full of thousands of people living in tall buildings, right? Like in the pictures we’ve seen. But the adults don’t talk about it, and when they do, they mention stuff like crazy people living in ruins, as if there’s nothing left anymore, just some dead place we couldn’t ever live in. Well, maybe all that’s a big lie to stop us wanting to go visit. And maybe the sea serpent is there in case we ever get it into our heads to try leaving the island.”

“I still don’t get it,” Hal said. “If that’s true, it doesn’t explain
why
we’re here. Why are the adults hiding on this island, cut off from the rest of the world? And why has no one from Out There ever come to visit?”

“Don’t know, Hal,” Abigail said with a shrug. “But it could be that the adults are not hiding
themselves
, but
us kids
. Maybe they don’t want anyone to find us.”

Robbie snorted from behind them. “That’s nuts. What’s so special about us?”

Hal stopped dead, and Robbie bumped into him. Standing in silence, Hal gazed at Abigail through narrowed eyes, a deep frown on his face.

“What’s up, Hal?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said, his mind racing with visions of Robbie changing, growing stronger. Did that count as special?

Robbie was frowning too, as if he’d just realized what he’d said and made the same connection.

“I think we should stick together,” Abigail said, breaking the silence, “and figure this out once and for all. Together we could—”

Robbie gave Hal a sharp nudge. “Here we go. All this talk of sticking together is just her way of getting to hang out with you, Hal.” He brushed past her and climbed the stone steps to the road. “Let’s go.”

Abigail hung back with Hal. “Your pants are wet,” she said with a hint of what sounded like smugness. “I think you were both more scared than you’re admitting.”

“We weren’t—” Hal broke off and felt his face heat up. “Hey, we didn’t
wet
ourselves, if that’s what you mean. This is just seawater.”

Abigail laughed. “It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

Hal fought an urge to argue. But of course she was just teasing him, getting him riled up as she usually did.

They climbed the stone steps. Robbie was already sitting on his bike, drumming his fingers on the handlebars. “Where’s your bike?” he asked Abigail.

“Didn’t bring it,” she said. “I have other means of getting around.”

Robbie rolled his eyes. “Like walking, you mean. You always have to make things out to be more than they are. Like a few weeks ago you said you were ‘undergoing an important change’ . . . all mysterious-like. Everyone was wondering about it. And the next day you came into school with a haircut.”

“Do you like it?” Abigail said, pulling at the ponytail behind her head. “Mom said I should leave it long, but I told her to lop some off. It was interfering with my mode of transport.”

“What?” Robbie exclaimed, throwing up his hands in exasperation. “I have
no idea
what you’re talking about, and neither do you.” He shook his head and prepared to pedal off. “Come on, Hal.”

“Coming,” Hal said. He climbed onto his bike and turned to Abigail, suddenly feeling awkward about riding off and leaving her behind. “Well, I guess we’ll see you on Monday.”

“Hey, good job with the raft,” she said, smiling. “You know, you’re quite brave for a short guy. Even if you did wet your pants.”

Hal shrugged. “Well, when you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go.”

Abigail beamed. “You have a sense of humor! Good for you.”

With perfectly white even teeth, a smattering of freckles, and deep brown eyes, Hal thought she could be quite pretty sometimes. It was a shame she spoiled it by being so irritating.

As he spun his pedals and started to move off, Abigail’s smile faded and she grabbed his arm. “Hal, wait.”

Robbie groaned and hung his head. “Oh, come
on
.”

But Hal paused, staring in surprise at the white fingers pressing into his arm just above the elbow. “I’ve gotta go,” he mumbled.

Abigail only tightened her grip. “Hal, I still need to show you something. Something important.”

Hal waited, eyebrows raised. Abigail remained staring at him intently, and he frowned. “So? Tell me.”

She shot a look at Robbie. “Not here. Later. I’ll stop by your house after dark. When everyone’s asleep.”

“More drama,” Robbie murmured.

Abigail relaxed her grip on Hal’s arm and stepped back. “Well, see you later then.”

Robbie tore away, and Hal set off after him, his eyes fixed on the road. It was a steep incline and they pedaled in silence until they reached the top. Panting, they slowed to a cruise and rode side by side through the fog.

Then Hal’s arm started itching again. It felt like someone had stuck pins into his skin, and he wobbled all over the road in his hurry to scratch at it.

“Look out!” Robbie yelled as their front wheels nearly touched.

Hal jammed on his brakes and yanked up the sleeve of his thick sweater. Then he froze, his eyes widening. Stretching from his elbow to his wrist was a rash of bumpy, mottled green skin the color of cucumber. He touched it and found it to be thick and tough.

Robbie had turned a large circle and was heading back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Hal wrenched his sleeve back down, but then wondered why he was trying to hide the rash from his best friend. He swallowed. “Well, you know that itch on my arm?”

“You must have fleas,” Robbie said with a grin.

“It’s not fleas. Look.” Hal rolled his sleeve up once more.

Robbie’s grin faded and his face went white. He stared and stared, and then pointed at it. “That’s not normal, man. What
is
that?”

“I don’t know. It’s been itching for maybe a week now, on and off. I didn’t think much of it until we went to Black Woods the other day. Since then it’s been much worse.” Hal gazed at the rash, his heart thumping. “I keep checking, you know? To see if there’s a rash or bite or something. But I’ve never seen anything until now.”

Robbie was still staring. He backed off a little. “That’s just weird. You need to go see Abi’s mom.”

Hal thought about the funny little doctor with her homemade foul-smelling potions. Dr. Porter worried a lot, and every so often got everyone together to give shots of something or other. But although the adults suffered from colds or other ailments from time to time, not one of the kids on the island had ever been sick. “Wonderful immune systems,” Dr. Porter had always said with awe. “You kids are very lucky.”

Or special
, Hal thought.

He prodded the rash. It didn’t hurt, but his skin felt taut as if he had gotten something sticky across his arm that had dried and hardened. Could it be gangrene? He’d read about gangrene in a book. Someone had been wounded and infection had set in, and the wound had turned a funny color and stunk. Hal sniffed his arm carefully, but could detect no odor. Still, the rash was an odd color, so maybe it was the
start
of an infection.

Only he hadn’t been wounded, so that didn’t make any sense.

“Has your mom got any itch stuff?” Robbie asked. “I’m always getting stung or bitten, so ages ago Mom got some itch stuff from Dr. Porter. It’s like sludge, and it soothes the itching. You want to try some?”

“Sounds good to me,” Hal agreed.

He stopped by Robbie’s house on the way back and waited while his friend nipped inside to fetch the sludge. Robbie returned with a small jar containing a strange purple-colored substance.

“You can keep this,” he said. “I scooped some out of the big jar we have. Hope it helps.”

“Thanks. You doing anything tomorrow?”

Robbie rolled his eyes. “Got to clean up my room before I do anything else. I might just hang around the house and study.”

Hal grinned. Robbie’s idea of studying was poring over bug books. “See you Monday then,” he said, and rode off.

When Hal arrived home and parked his bike outside, he caught the smell of something delicious cooking and hurried down the hallway, his stomach growling. The hall candles flickered as he passed through into the kitchen.

“Ah,” his mom said. She was stirring a pot that hung over the fireplace. “The wanderer returns.”

Hal caught his breath. “What? What do you mean? I haven’t wandered anywhere. We just went down to the docks, that’s all.”

His mom raised an eyebrow and stared at him. “All right, don’t be so defensive. I just meant that you and Robbie have been out a lot recently.”

“Oh. Yeah. Been busy.” Hal relaxed and stood by the crackling fire next to his mom. He liked the fireplace. Not only was food cooked over it, but it helped to heat the house and provided a nice, cozy flickering orange glow.

His mom dipped the ladle into the pot, withdrew steaming stew, and held it up for him. “Here, see what you think.”

Hal cooled it by blowing and carefully sipped on the rich creamy brown gravy. “Mmm,” he said, gripping his mom’s wrist and tilting it so a small morsel of meat and onion tipped into his mouth.

“Good?” she said with a chuckle. “It’s seagull with herbs and onions. We’ll have it with fresh baked bread and potatoes in a little while, when your father gets home from the farm.” She laughed. “Hal, you’re licking your lips.”

“I’m hungry. Haven’t eaten since lunch.”

The fire felt wonderful after the cold fog. Hal turned to dry the damp patch on his trousers as his mom busied herself putting bowls out on the table. On the counter opposite stood a fresh loaf of bread, probably baked that very afternoon at Mrs. O’Tanner’s house. Darcy’s mom had a specially-made brick oven behind the house, where she baked every couple of days for the island community.

Hal hoped his dad would get home soon so they could eat. All the men worked on the farm across the far side of the island, plowing fields, planting seeds, picking fruit and digging up vegetables, while caring for cows, goats and sheep.

“Hey, Mom?”

She rattled around in a drawer for the silverware. “Mmm?”

“If all the cows die, where will we get milk from?”

His mom stopped and turned, frowning. “The goats, I suppose,” she said with a grimace. “Why? Are you expecting the cows to die?”

“No, but . . .”

“Don’t worry, honey, we’ll manage no matter what.”

“But what about the goats?” Hal persisted. “What if they all die too, and the pigs and sheep and chickens? What then?”

She gave Hal a long, thoughtful look before answering. “I guess we’d live on seagulls, fish and vegetables,” she said with a faint smile.

“What did you live on before you and Dad moved to the island?”

“Well, whatever we wanted, I guess. We bought it all from grocery stores.”

“What’s a grocery store?”

Hal’s mom sighed. “A place where you buy food.”

“What do you mean, ‘buy food’?”

“Hal, stop asking questions. Make yourself useful and go and get a couple of candles out of the shed.”

“But—”

Seeing his mom’s raised eyebrow, Hal sighed and went out to the shed at the bottom of the garden. It was already getting dark, and after the warmth of the kitchen the fog felt colder than ever.

He poked around in the musty shed until he found the box of candles. There weren’t many left, but Emily’s mom probably had loads more. While Mrs. O’Tanner made bread for everyone, Mrs. Stanton made candles. Hal had watched her make them many times before; the farmers would bring along misshapen lumps of solidified oil they’d extracted from huge piles of heated soybeans, and she’d reheat the lumps and turn them into useable candles with wicks. Sometimes she added nice scents.

Hal’s dad said the leftover dried-out soybeans were used as cow food. It seemed everything could be used for something on the island.