Page 73 of Mayflower

I do the last thing I can. I make a sound like a seagull in alarm.

“Kha!”

I go quiet. The dark jungle goes quiet.

“Kha!” I go again, breathing hard. Come on, come, on, come on. “Kha!”

A whistle comes from a distance ahead of me. “Kha-Kha!”

My heart slams hard. “Kha!”

And the response comes again. “Kha-kha!”

“Kha!” I shout with as much force as I can manage.

And suddenly, there is a whole forest of seagulls ahead of me, and other sounds too. We all had our secret codes when we used to get around town. When the guards were too close. When one of us was taken. When there was danger. That was how we found Bennelin when she was taken by the local drunks. They threw her in a dirty room and wanted to take her clothes. That time, we heard her secret code from outside. We made a racket. Garrick threw broken bottles at the house. Two drunks came out and started chasing us. Garrick and Roof snuck in through the window and helped get Bennelin out.

“Kha-Kha!” The sound comes closer now.

Then I see him, the face I know, the Superman reflector on his chest.

“Sonny!” the shadow shouts but doesn’t come closer. It’s Garrick.

He steps into the moonlight. His expression is stern. His eyes are angry. He holds a backpack. Where did he get a backpack? A bottle with a rag sticking out of it is in his hand. That’s one of those things that blow up.

And then others come out. There’s dirt on their faces. More bottles in their hands. Even Bennelin is here, and she is only seven.

“Wha’ ye want?” Garrick asks sharply.

There’s a whole lot of them. They step out of the bushes. Some look scared, some curious. Their faces are dirty with some smudges, like those soldiers in movies.

But they are on the wrong side.

“Come with me, all of you!” I say in a raspy voice.

Garrick scowls at me. “You stop’ sending food,” he shouts in response. “You one of ‘em now!”

“Yeah!” Roof says with an angry nod. “One of ‘em!”

“Traitor!” someone shouts.

“Traitor!” another echoes.

“Traitor!”

“Traitor!”

“Traitor!”

I shake my head. I panic. “No,” I say. “No-no. No.”

Garrick raises his arm with the bottle at me, his eyes angry. “Traitor,” he snarls.

“No, Garrick! They can help!” I shout, feeling so sad. So-so sad.

They can’t do this.

They don’t know the bad guys.

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