“Marco?” When he didn’t answer her, Sarah said, “You’re scaring me! Say something.”
Marco simply placed his palm on the glass, riveted by whatever lay inside.
“Marco?” Sarah joined him and gazed inside the module.
The black fur was the first thing she saw, but then her eyes were drawn right to the silver anchor-shaped tag.
AHABB.
She slapped her hand over her mouth before she could scream. “Oh no. No. No. No.” She dropped her hand and turned to Marco, his eyes wide. She turned back to the module. There was the slightest tinge of frost on the end of Ahab’s nose, where a trickle of steam came out. His brown eyes stared straight ahead, looking at nothing. “Oh no.” Sarah’s eyes filled with tears. She set her hand on the glass. “I’ll get you out of there. I promise.”
Marco said, “Your dad has to be here. We have to find him.”
Sarah sniffled and wiped her nose. “Here?” And then she realized what he meant. Her heart pounded as a rush of heat ran up her neck and face; a tremor started in her hands that had nothing to do with the cold. “Frozen?”
Marco started to say, “No, I didn’t mean…” But he stopped, and bit his lower lip. “I don’t know.”
“No!” She backed away from him. “He can’t be.” She backed into a nearby module, which was about the height of her shoulders, and whirled around. It was empty. She went to the next one, which was slightly shorter. Also empty. The next module was about six and a half feet tall. The frost was just beginning to gather on the glass and she stopped and looked inside.
Her eyes traveled up the tan legs and the khaki shorts and the polo shirt, stopping when they reached the glasses, fogged so that she couldn’t see her father’s eyes. She screamed and pounded on the glass. “Nooooooooo!”
“Sarah!” Marco tried to grab her arm, but she flailed out and shoved him away. She went back to the module, catching the keypad in her gaze. She started pushing on the symbols, then began smacking them with the flat of her hand. “I’ll get you out! I’ll get you out!” Tears rolled down her cheeks as sobs caught in her throat. “I’ll get you out!”
“Sarah!”
She ignored him, and kept pounding on the keypad until her hands felt bruised. She fell to her knees and lay her forehead against the glass, staring at her father. “I’ll get you out.”
Marco uttered something in Spanish.
Sarah moved just enough so she could look sideways at him. He stood motionless in front of the neighboring module, his fists squeezing and then releasing. He repeated whatever he had said, then hit the glass with the side of his fist.
Sarah got to her feet and went to stand next to him.
Nacho was in that module, standing in his khaki shorts and purple Eco-Scout shirt and black flip-flops. A small cloud of vapor came out of his nostrils, and his dark eyes fixed on something beyond them as his hair stuck up a little on top.
Sarah put a hand on Marco’s arm. He set a hand on it. “We’ll get them out.” His voice was low and deep, almost a growl. “We’ll find whoever did this.”
WHOOOOOSSSSHHHH!
At the sound overhead, Sarah snapped her head back, just in time to see a net falling on top of her.
18
Marco also saw the net, and shoved Sarah away from it. Instead of falling right on top of her, it just caught one of her legs, but stuck tight as she tried to kick it off. “Don’t touch it!” yelled Marco. “It’ll stick to anything.”
“There’s a knife in the bag,” said Sarah.
Marco dug through and found it, then started trying to cut through the net. But as soon as the knife touched the net, it stuck to it. “Oh no.” He looked at Sarah. “I don’t know what—”
Suddenly, her eyes bulged and she pointed behind him. “The Curator!”
Marco whirled around.
A bald man in a blue jumpsuit, slightly shorter than Marco, held up a white tube and pointed it at him. With a WHOOOSSSHHH, a white net shot out.
Marco managed to dodge it, then ran toward the man. Just as another net was propelled out of the tube, Marco flew up with a kick and knocked the thing out of the man’s hands, the net floating harmlessly to the ground. He then kicked again, straight into the man’s chest, knocking him flat on the ground.
“Be careful!” Sarah yelled.
Marco leapt onto the man, straddling him as he put his hands around his throat. “Let them go! You’ve got to let them go!”
Marco’s hand’s tightened, and the man’s green eyes widened as he reached up with his wrinkled, age-spotted hands and grasped Marco’s forearms. There wasn’t a lot of strength there, and Marco had no problem holding him down. “Tell me how to get the net off! Tell me how to open those things!”
The bald man squeezed his eyes shut and rocked his head from side to side.
Then, suddenly, red stubble appeared all over the man’s head. Marco watched in amazement as auburn hair sprouted from the man’s head, flowing soft and shiny, not stopping until it reached Marco’s arms. “What the—” His gaze went back to the man’s face.
But the bald man was gone.
Instead, a beautiful woman with green eyes, a graceful nose, and full red lips lay where he had been, struggling to get away from Marco. He was caught off guard and loosened his grip, but managed to tighten it again before she got away. “I don’t know what you’re doing but it’s not going to work! Tell me how to let them go!”
The woman pressed her lips together as she tried to pull his hands off her throat. Then, she squeezed her eyes shut and rocked her head from side to side. The tips of the auburn hair slowly darkened to a deep chestnut, the color seeping up toward the roots, and then the long brown hair began to recede, sinking back into her scalp until it was about the same length as Marco’s.
Marco gasped and struggled to keep his grip on the brown-haired man that lay there, clutching Marco’s arms.
“Stop it!” yelled Marco. “Stop it!” He tightened his grip.
The man’s face turned red.
Marco shook his head. “I swear, if you don’t tell me how to—”
The man’s green eyes bulged as Marco squeezed harder, and after a few more seconds, his lips were a twinge of blue. “Tell me!” Marco squeezed more, until the man’s grip on Marco’s arms loosened, and his hands slowly slid to the ground, lifeless. His eyes shut as his head lolled to one side.
“Marco!” Sarah screamed.
Instantly, Marcus released his grasp and crawled off, kneeling beside him. He placed one ear on the man’s chest.
“Is he still alive?” asked Sarah.
Marco heard a heartbeat. “Yeah.” He sat back up and held a hand in front of the man’s nose. He felt a slight breath and sighed with relief. “I didn’t mean to. I got carried away. I just wanted him to tell me—”
As the man lay there, motionless, the ends of his chestnut hair lightened, the blondness moving up the hair, as the straight strands shortened a bit and began to curl. The man’s tan face paled, while freckles popped up on his cheeks and nose, which had changed, and become smaller, younger versions.
A boy lay there.
A thin, blond, freckle-faced boy in a blue jumpsuit.
Marco gasped. His heart pounded as the truth flooded through him.
A boy.
The Curator was a boy.
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About the Author
S.A. Bodeen is the author of The Garden and The Compound, which earned her an ALA Quick Pick for Young Adults, a Bank Street Best Children’s Book of the Year, and a Publishers Weekly “Flying Start.” She is also the author of several picture books, including Elizabeti’s Doll, winner of the Ezra Jack Keats Award. Bodeen grew up on a dairy farm in Wisconsin. Her first friends were cows, which she named after characters in books. From there she went on to be a Peace Corps volunteer in East Africa, and has lived in seven states, as well as a remote Pacific island. She adores books and is a big fan of c
heese. She lives in Oregon. You can sign up for email updates here.
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Contents
Title Page
Copyright Notice
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
About the Author
Copyright
A FEIWEL AND FRIENDS BOOK
An Imprint of Macmillan
LOST. Copyright © 2015 by S. A. Bodeen. All rights reserved. For information, address Feiwel and Friends, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
eBooks may be purchased for business or promotional use. For information on bulk purchases, please contact Macmillan Corporate and Premium Sales Department by writing to
[email protected].
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Available
ISBN: 978-1-250-02779-5 (hardcover) / 978-1-250-07286-3 (ebook)
Feiwel and Friends logo designed by Filomena Tuosto
First Edition: 2015
mackids.com
eISBN: 9781250072863
S. A. Bodeen, Lost
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