“Nate, we have to go to the sheriff,” says Owen.
Owen, Mercy and I are still making our way along the dark shores of the Starling, trying to get back to Camp Clearwater.
“There’s no time,” I say.
Owen grabs me by the elbow. “Nate, this is serious. We need to go to the police. We need adults in on this.”
“He’s right,” agrees Mercy.
“Adults?” I shove Owen off me. “Which adults do you want help from? The police? The guys who were supposed to find Mike and just gave up? Or Mr. Evans, the guy whose entire job is to take care of Clearwater and its campers? What exactly is it you think the adults are going to do to help us, Owen?”
“Nate,” Mercy begins, but I don’t want to hear it. I’m so mad. So furious it’s all I can do to keep from breaking down into tears.
“Mike is out there!” I scream. “He’s out there, and no one is looking for him. We can’t wait for the adults to sit around talking and lying and coming up with a million different ways to tell us there’s nothing they can do.”
Mercy and Owen look away, unable to meet my eyes. Because they know I’m right. They know the only way Mike will be found is if we find him ourselves.
“I’m done waiting, Mercy,” I say. “I’m not letting these guys get away with what they’ve done. We need to find Mike—now.”
“How?” demands Owen. “By going through the Black Hole? Nate, that’s insane.”
“You said you would come with me!”
“I know what I said!” he shouts. “But now we’re getting chased by goons! Mr. Evans is part of some crazy crime scheme! I mean, Nate, it’s barely the start of summer. The winter storms will have brought all kinds of trees down and other strainers that no one’s cleared yet. It’s too dangerous!”
“Then don’t come with us!” I shout.
Owen looks at Mercy. She doesn’t say anything, just chews on a nail. She meets Owen’s eyes but won’t look at me. She agrees with him. The Black Hole scares them. And I don’t blame them. The Black Hole is a monster. It nearly killed me once.
I sigh, facing the river. “You’re right. It is too dangerous. When we get back to camp, you guys can go find Raina. Tell her to take you to the sheriff.”
“What about you?” asks Mercy.
My eyes burn. “I’m going to find Mike.” Because no one else will. But the idea of doing it alone, without my friends, makes me more frightened than ever.
“Nate—”
“Just give me enough time to get my gear together before you go to Raina, okay?”
Mercy shakes her head, “Nate, we aren’t going to let you go alone.”
“Mercy, this is something I just have to do. Mike would do it for me.”
She doesn’t argue that. She knows he would. He’d do it for any of us.
“Well,” says Mercy, with a clap of her hands, “we’d better hurry up then.” She marches past me. “We’ve got a lot of gear to get ready if we’re going to do this, and it’s getting late.”
“What?”
“Yeah,” says Owen, “what?”
“It’s like you said,” she says, without looking back. “Mike would do it for any of us. So I don’t see we have much of a choice.”
I glance over at Owen, whose chin is in his chest.
“Owen,” I say, “you don’t have to—”
“Just shut up,” he says, following after Mercy, “before I change my mind about this.”
By the time we make it to Camp Clearwater, it’s late. Most of the lights are out except for the office’s porch light and the floodlight by the flagpole. And headlights. Three sets of headlights, parked on the lawn.
“Guys,” whispers Mercy, crouched behind a rack of kayaks. Owen and I crouch with her, and she points at the cars. “That’s the men from the garage.”
Ed and Dale lean against a truck.
“They must be waiting for us,” says Owen. “They knew we’d come back here.”
My anger deepens. I wonder who gave them that idea.
“How are we supposed to get to the cabin to get our gear?”
The lights from their cars spill onto the beach. If we step out from behind the boat racks, they’ll spot us instantly. We’re stuck here.
“We can’t just wait here,” says Owen. “They could stand there all night.”
The door to the main office bursts open, and Mr. Evans steps onto the porch. “I said get out of here!” He holds the door open, shouting at whoever’s inside. “If I have to ask again, I’m calling the sheriff.”
Bob Higgins saunters out of the office. He says something to Mr. Evans I can’t quite hear from this far away. But whatever it is, it makes Mr. Evans deflate. Higgins struts over to his car and shouts orders at Ed and Dale. “When those kids turn up, you call me.”
Ed and Dale nod as the car door slams and Bob Higgins drives away. Mr. Evans sits on the porch, his head in his knees.
“Why isn’t he calling the sheriff like he said he would?” Mercy whispers.
My jaw tightens. “Because he took their money. He’s a part of this whole thing. If he calls the sheriff, he’ll get arrested just like the rest of them.”
“What are we supposed to do now?” asks Mercy.
My eyes fall on the equipment shack behind us. I remember what happened the night Sarah Bauer challenged Mike to a midnight run of the Nebula.
“I think we need a flare.”