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  No! I can't leave him here alone--I'm all he's got!

  And in that moment, Dan knew what to do.

  Dan dropped to his hands and knees in the water. It was getting hard to tell where the edges of the pit were; he just had to trust that the sand would stay firm beneath him.

  He took a huge breath and puffed his cheeks out, leaning over so Lester could see him clearly.

  Lester jerked his head in a nod. He understood what Dan was doing.

  Dan plunged his face into the water. He found Lester's mouth with his own and exhaled all the air

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  in his lungs. Then he surfaced and wiped away the water streaming into his eyes.

  It worked! Between waves, he could see Lester smiling!

  "YES!" Dan pumped his fist once. A few more breaths should give Lester enough time to get out. He inhaled, went under, and gave Lester a second breath.

  This time Lester gave him a thumbs-up. Dan was ecstatic. He still couldn't see the lower half of Lester's body, but surely it wouldn't be much longer. ...

  Dan took in another lungful of air. He leaned over, ready to go beneath the surface again.

  A huge wave crashed into him, sweeping him head over heels toward the beach.

  Dan tried to get up and was knocked down by another wave. Finally, he staggered to his feet and whirled around frantically. Where was Lester?

  The spit of sand that led to the quicksand was now completely underwater. Dan had no idea if he had been swept straight in or to one side. He didn't know if the wave had carried him five feet or twenty-five.

  Where was Lester?

  Four minutes. The thought surfaced in Dan's mind, popping up from wherever it was buried. Four minutes without oxygen before brain damage set in. He had to find Lester in the next four minutes.

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  "DAN!"

  It was Amy, running toward him from the beach, holding a short plank.

  "Amy!" He splashed over to her and grabbed the plank.

  "Where-"

  "I don't know!" he said. "I was right there with him--and then a wave--and he's stuck in the quicksand--we've got to find him!"

  Despite that garbled explanation, Amy didn't question him. "Let's go," she said. "You look to the right, I'll look to the left, and we'll both keep checking the middle."

  The rain had stopped and the sky was clearing; there was even a sunset now, purple and orange and oblivious to their distress. They ran out into the waves. As he searched the water desperately, Dan realized that he had no idea what to do with the plank. If Lester was unconscious--if he couldn't get himself out of the pit, and they couldn't pull him out--

  Dan shut that thought out of his mind.

  How much time had passed? A minute? Two minutes? The water was up to his thighs now. Had it been that deep at the pit? Were they already out too far?

  If only Lester would stick his arm up out of the water so they could see where he was. ...

  Dan gasped as fear hit his stomach so hard he felt like he'd been punched.

  Lester would have thought of that.

  If he could raise his arm, he would have done it by now.

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  CHAPTER 18

  * * *

  Dan had heard of people being "in shock" before. He thought it meant like being really stunned so you couldn't talk or even get your breath.

  This was different. He was breathing in tiny shallow gasps, trembling all over. His skin was cold and clammy; he felt cold inside, too. He had heard the ambulance attendant say it to Amy and Nellie. "He's in shock. We'll take care of him."

  How long had it been? Since Amy had left him in the water to run and call for help; since she'd come back; since he had heard the wail of sirens, and the beach had filled up with people--police and ambulance and rescue, people milling around everywhere, and none of them mattered to Dan. Only one person mattered.

  Lester.

  They'd had to drag Dan out of the water. He was okay, he kept telling everyone, he was fine, it was Lester who was in trouble, he had to find Lester.

  They had brought Lester up onto the beach, and Dan was still okay then; he had knelt next to Lester while

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  the EMTs worked on him for what seemed like hours. A police officer wanted to interview him; he refused to budge from Lester's side, but he told the officer what had happened, beginning with Hugo and Anton chasing Lester out into the ocean, and how Lester had helped them escape from the quicksand. The police officer had been very gentle with him, not asking any hard questions, so Dan didn't have to explain why the two thugs had been chasing Lester in the first place.

  Finally, they had taken Lester away on a stretcher. And even then Dan might have been okay, but as one of the EMTs closed the ambulance's bay doors, she looked at the police officer standing nearby and shook her head, and Dan could see it in her eyes, could see beyond any doubt, that there was no hope for Lester.

  That was when he had gone into shock. Amy had been by his side, she had caught him as he fell to his knees, and then another EMT made him lie on a stretcher and put blankets on top of him, but still he couldn't get warm, and now that was all he could think about, how cold he was, shivering, shaking, his teeth chattering, cold to the very middle of his bones.

  So cold that he'd never ever ever be able to feel warm again.

  The hospital was keeping Dan overnight "for observation." A nurse came into the room from time to time,

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  but she didn't need to do much observing. Amy was doing it for her.

  She hadn't left Dan's side for hours. When the EMTs had put him in the ambulance, they had tried to explain that minors weren't allowed to ride along, but Amy had spoken to them so firmly that Nellie looked at her in surprise.

  "I'm his only relative here, and she's our guardian," Amy had said, pointing at Nellie. "She's giving me permission to ride with him." And without waiting for a response, she had climbed into the ambulance.

  Dan hadn't said a word since going into shock. He had looked at her just once, with so much bewilderment and grief in his expression that her eyes had instantly filled with tears. Finally, he had fallen asleep, and Nellie had made her sit in an armchair in the corner of the room with stern instructions to get some rest. Then Nellie had left to go talk to Miss Alice.

  Poor Miss Alice ... Amy could hardly bear to think of her. She was so old ... would she survive the shock of hearing the news?

  Amy woke an hour or so later. Before her eyes were even fully open, she was stumbling to Dan's bedside again. Nellie was right beside her.

  As if sensing their presence, Dan stirred. Amy waited until he sat up a little, then poured him a drink.

  Nellie reported that Miss Alice's niece was driving down from Montego Bay to be with her, and that Miss

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  Alice appeared to be bearing the news with considerable strength.

  "She's pretty tough," Nellie said, admiration in her voice.

  With a start, Amy remembered something. "Where's the box?" she asked. It was ages since she had last thought about it. "We split up on the beach," she explained to Dan. "Nellie had the box."

  "Don't worry, it's safe," Nellie said, waving her hand as if brushing off the question.

  Amy frowned. "Where?"

  "I said it's safe," Nellie replied.

  "But why won't you say where?"

  "Can't you trust me for once--"

  "Stop it! Just stop it!" Dan's voice was anguished. Stunned, both girls stared at him. Amy saw that he was clutching the bedsheet in both hands, so tightly that his knuckles were white. "I don't care about the stupid box anymore," he said, his voice cracking with strain. "Lester's dead. He died because of that box. If it were here, I'd smash it into a million pieces."

  Tears began streaming down his cheeks. "I'd give up the box, and every clue, and the million dollars, too," he whispered, "if it would bring Lester back."

  Amy had never seen him so miserable. She got up from her chair and sat o
n the bed next to him. Gently, she pried one of his hands loose from the sheet and took it in hers.

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  For what felt like a long time, the room was quiet except for the sound of Dan's sniffles. Amy waited until his tears stopped. With her free hand, she gave him a tissue from a box on the nightstand. She restrained her impulse to wipe his nose for him; she was pretty sure he wouldn't like that.

  Dan wiped his eyes first. Then he blew his nose. It sounded exactly like a goose honking.

  A tiny giggle escaped from Nellie; she immediately looked contrite and pretended to clear her throat.

  Dan blew his nose again. This time, it sounded like a goose honking while being tortured.

  Nellie burst out laughing, and Amy would have been appalled except that she found herself laughing, too. For a brief moment, Dan looked indignant, and then he was laughing hardest of all.

  It was one of those things that none of them could have explained, the way they were laughing. They would calm down, then one of them would look at the other two and the giggles would start up and grow until they were laughing flat out once more. They laughed so hard that Dan's eyes began streaming again, and he had to blow his nose again, which produced the tortured-goose honk again, and of course made them laugh even harder. Amy put her hands over her mouth, trying in vain to stem the tide, while Nellie grabbed a pillow and buried her face in it.

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  At last their laughter faded into giggles, then silence. Amy's stomach muscles actually felt sore from all the laughing.

  Just then the night nurse came in. She refilled Dan's water pitcher and plumped his pillows. "Time to go," she said.

  "Thanks," Amy said. The nurse had let them stay way past visiting hours. Amy and Nellie had already decided that Dan would be safe in the hospital for one night. What with everything that had happened, they were sure that the Kabras would be lying low for at least a little while. The girls would go back to the hotel and come get Dan in the morning.

  They said their good-nights. At the door, Amy turned and went back to the bed.

  Dan already looked half asleep. She leaned over and gave him a quick kiss on his forehead.

  It had been a long time since she'd given him a kiss. He didn't really respond, just wriggled deeper under the sheets and closed his eyes, which meant, she knew, that he didn't mind.

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  CHAPTER 19

  * * *

  "It's not like with Irina."

  From the backseat of the car, Dan's voice was barely above a whisper.

  The doctor who had signed off on Dan's chart that morning said there was nothing physically wrong with him, but that he might feel a little woozy from the sedative given to him in the night. "Good food, sunshine, relaxation, that's my prescription," the doctor declared.

  No, Amy had thought. That won't do it. What Dan needs is to rewind everything, back to a time when Lester was still alive.

  Looking at her brother's pale, exhausted face, Amy knew exactly what he meant about Irina.

  Irina had chosen to be part of the Clue hunt. She had known about both the rewards and the risks and had made the deliberate decision to participate despite the potential dangers. She had died in full knowledge that her death was a consequence of the battle over the Clues.

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  Lester hadn't known any of that.

  "It's so unfair," Dan said. "All he wanted to do was be helpful." Tears slid out from behind his closed eyelids. "And we never gave him a chance."

  Tears were rolling down Amy's cheeks, too, but now she cleared her throat. "What do you mean?" she asked.

  Dan opened his eyes. "We should have told him. That it might be dangerous to help us. We should have given him a chance to decide."

  He used his T-shirt to wipe his eyes. "We're Madrigals, all right. I mean, we knew that before, but we were thinking we could be different, right? This proves we can't. Lester died, and it was our fault."

  "But--but we didn't set out to--to kill him. Or anyone! Not even close!"

  Dan shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Whether we meant to or not, that doesn't change anything for Lester."

  Amy's insides twisted. The pain in Dan's eyes mirrored the pain in her own heart--to the nth degree. It was too much to bear.

  Amy almost choked on the lump in her throat. She had to try twice before she could speak. "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?" she whispered.

  He nodded. "Yeah," he said.

  She didn't have to stop to consider it. "Okay."

  "Okay," he echoed.

  There was no need for more words.

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  "Airport."

  Nellie slammed on the brakes. Fortunately, they weren't even out of the parking lot yet.

  "Airport? What for?" she demanded.

  Amy was staring out the window. "We're going home," she said hoarsely. "Back to Aunt Beatrice."

  "WHAT?!"

  "It's the only way," Dan said. "We're Madrigals. Madrigals hurt people. Even kill them, or at least get them killed. We have to get out of the hunt before it happens again."

  The silence that followed lasted for several moments.

  "You sure about this?" Nellie said at last.

  "Yes." They spoke in one voice, quietly but without hesitation.

  Nellie drove onto the road.

  Dan stared out the car window. My last views of Jamaica ... I'm never coming back here again.

  Then a guilty thought occurred to him.

  We should go see Miss Alice. He was about to mention it when he saw the sign for the airport exit whiz by.

  "Hey, that was the turnoff for the airport," he said. "You missed it. But it's okay--I was thinking we should go see Miss Alice before we leave."

  Amy looked at him sadly. "You're right," she said.

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  "So, Spanish Town instead of the airport," Dan said, wondering what he could possibly say to Miss Alice.

  No reply from Nellie.

  And she wasn't wearing her earbuds.

  "Nellie?" Amy said. "We want to go see Miss Alice, did you get that?"

  Nellie pulled her sunglasses off the top of her head and put them on. "I heard you," she said. "Just sit back and relax. You could both use some rest."

  "But this isn't the right way," Dan said. "Spanish Town is that way--" He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, indicating the opposite direction.

  After another moment or two, it became clear that Nellie had no intention of turning around, and Dan felt his confusion turning into a vague sense of dread.

  "Where's Lester's box?" he said suddenly.

  "I told you, it's safe," Nellie replied.

  He could see Nellie's reflection in the rearview mirror. She gave him a thin little smile.

  "Don't worry about it," she said. "Remember, the doctor said you should take it easy."

  "I'll take it easy as soon as you tell me where the box is," Dan said.

  Nellie's lips tightened. Then she said, "I'm not answering any more questions. You'll understand everything once we get there."

  "Get WHERE?" Dan's voice rose. "Where are you taking us?"

  No answer.

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  Amy must have felt the same panic he did, because now she grabbed the door handle.

  "Stop the car," she said. "I'm getting out--I'm not going any farther until you tell us what's going on."

  "Sorry," Nellie said. "This is an express car. No stops until--the terminus."

  The terminus. The way she said it sounded ominous to Dan.

  Amy jerked the door handle. The child latch was engaged; they were locked in.

  "For your own protection," Nellie said.

  For a wild moment, Dan thought of grabbing the steering wheel or putting his hands over Nellie's eyes--anything to make her stop. But there were other cars on the road; someone else might get hurt.

  Dan's heart was pounding so hard that he could feel his pulse in his throat. He tried to speak, but no words came out. He could only stare in disbelief at
the back of Nellie's head.

  All this time she was helping us just so we would let our guard down.

  And we did, and now she's sucker punched us.

  After a few minutes on the road, Nellie pulled over and made a call on her cell phone.

  "On my way," she said. Then, "No. Didn't work out. But they're with me. Which means Plan B."

  The words were both cryptic and frightening, but to

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  Amy, the scariest thing of all was the flatness of Nellie's voice. She could have been a robot; there was not a shred of emotion in her words. And her face looked as cold as stone.

  Kidnapped. We're being kidnapped.

  Amy didn't even try to ask what Plan B meant; she knew she'd get no answer. With trembling fingers, she undid her seat belt and climbed into the backseat. She needed to be near Dan.

  Amy wanted to feel furious at this final, incontrovertible evidence of Nellie's betrayal. Instead, she was almost overwhelmed by a wave of exhaustion.

  I'm so tired. Too tired and sad to be angry. She wished she could curl up into a ball in a dark, soundless room and sleep and sleep and sleep. For, like, ten years.

  Turning her face toward the window, Amy closed her eyes helplessly. A few tears wet her lashes.

  After they had driven about an hour and a half--in utter silence--Nellie turned the car off the highway onto a smaller road that wound through the mountains. Although the mountains seemed to be almost pure wilderness, they did pass an occasional house. A few houses close together made up a town. The road grew narrower and steeper at every turn and finally brought them to an iron bridge paved with steel plates that crossed a gully.

  MOORE TOWN the sign on the bridge read.

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  Nellie drove across the bridge and stopped the car on the other side. She popped the door locks.