Chapter 11

The chipmunks clung to Theodore’s chocolate-covered doughnut like a life raft. The wind had finally died down, and the kite had dropped them somewhere in the middle of the vast, empty ocean.

“I don’t think I can make it much longer,” whimpered Theodore. “I’m so hungry.”

No one said anything.

“Just one bite,” he pleaded.

“No,” said Simon.

“A nibble?”

“No nibbles,” said Simon.

“Maybe I can just lick the glaze?” suggested Theodore.

Simon snapped. “The glaze is what’s keeping us alive! Its high fat content is creating a waterproof barrier that should allow us to float for days.”

“Days?” said Theodore, alarmed. “I’ll starve to death.”

“Actually,” said Jeanette. “There are many other things that will kill you before starvation. Dehydration, sunstroke—”

A gasp from Brittany interrupted her. “An island!”

At first, Jeanette didn’t realize what Brittany had said, and she continued her lecture on ocean survival. “Mmm, no … an island wouldn’t kill us. In fact, it would probably be helpful. So if you see one, you should definitely say something.”

Brittany rolled her eyes and pointed at a palm tree–studded island. “Um, Jeanette?”

“Oh!”

All the chipmunks, clinging to the doughnut, started paddling toward the white crescent of a tropical beach.

Eventually the waves washed them ashore.

“We’re alive! We’re alive!” squealed Eleanor, grateful to feel the sand beneath her paws.

“Good,” said Brittany with a little shake that sprayed water on everyone else. “Because now I’m going to kill Alvin!”

Brittany threw herself on Alvin like a wild animal—hitting, kicking, biting, and scratching. Simon tried to pull her off.

“C’mon, no one’s killing anyone,” he said to her. “No matter how much they deserve it.” He glared at Alvin, who was still struggling to catch his breath.

“Thank you,” said Alvin, straightening his shirt. He stepped into the middle of the group, ready to take charge as usual. “Look, guys, we’ve got nothing to worry about. Dave knows we’re gone by now; he probably has the whole Coast Guard looking for us. Meantime, why don’t you all just relax and have a bite of that doughnut…”

Theodore was licking his fingers sheepishly. He had just popped the last of the chocolate-covered doughnut into his mouth. He had eaten the whole thing. It was a little salty from the ocean water, but still delicious.

“Oh,” Theodore said, embarrassed. “Did you guys want some?”

They didn’t have any other food. And who knew if there was food on the island? Or how long it would take for them to be rescued?

Of if they would ever be rescued at all?

Because despite Alvin’s confidence, all the chipmunks knew that there was a good chance no one had seen them fly away—and no one knew where they were.