"Thanks, Hi. Noted."
"Whatever, it worked," said Ben. "Good job, Tor. Nice cover about your dad. Quick thinking." He glanced toward the rear of the compound. "But maybe we should scrap smoking out the dogs?"
"Wolfdogs," I corrected. "Well, two of them are, anyway." I peered at my reflection in the glass of Building One. Seeing Kit would've been nice, but going inside now would be tempting fate.
Sorry Kit. No can visit.
"No way," I said. "Let's find the pack."
"And some monkeys. I want to see monkeys." Hi's good spirits had returned. "Won't-you-take-me-to, Monkey Town!" He broke out a dance move. The shopping cart.
"Sure, Hi," I replied, eyes still on the lab. "I will take you to Monkey Town. Just never sing that again."
"Awful," Ben agreed. "Terrible, terrible joke. Shameful."
An earnest nod from Hi. "Not my best work."
"Saddle up, yo!" Shelton circled a finger in the air, ready to hike.
Like Snow White's dwarves, we marched one by one out the back gate.
Heigh-ho, heigh-ho, it's off to search we go . . .
CHAPTER 7
The man gazed down from Karsten's office window. His close-set eyes flanked a bulbous nose spidered with veins.
Watching the four teens disappear through the Turtle Beach gate, the man cracked his knuckles. Nervous and angry at the same time.
Punk kids on Loggerhead? Why? What are they doing here?
The man moved to the desk and folded his burly frame into the leather-bound chair. Leaned back. Lit a cigar.
Time to remind Karsten who's in charge.
Moments later the doctor bustled in, oblivious to the presence of another. He stopped short, startled by the smell of burning tobacco.
Seeing the man at his desk, Karsten stiffened.
"Why is a pack of kids roaming the property?" the man demanded coldly.
"I can't keep them off the grounds." Karsten swallowed. "Children of LIRI employees have the Board's permission to visit the beaches."
"Aren't you the director? Can't you control your own facility?"
Karsten bristled, but said nothing.
"I want all outsiders banned from the island," the man said. "Immediately. Keep them out of the woods."
"Why are you here? It's madness for us to be seen together."
"I took precautions. No one knows." The man's voice went even colder. "And watch your tone. I'm here because you've failed to show progress. Perhaps you've forgotten our agreement."
"I'm working on it."
"You made promises. You have obligations."
"What you seek is extremely complicated. These things can't be rushed."
The man simply stared.
"Give me more time," Karsten whined. "I'm close."
"You'd better be. I hold my partners to their bargains. Count on that."
The man rose, drew on his cigar, then dropped it, burning, into the wastebin.
"Impress me, doctor," he said. "Your time is running out."
The man left without a backward glance.
CHAPTER 8
Light flashed.
Flit. Was gone.
What was that?
It was the third or fourth time my eyes picked it up. I thought the glint came from the trees but wasn't sure. I scanned the canopy, looking for a clue.
When a gumball nailed my forehead, I figured it out.
"Ow!" My hand flew up in surprise. "A monkey just pegged me!"
I was sitting in a glade with my back to a tree. We were far from LIRI, in a little-traveled quadrant of the forest. Hi was stretched out beside me, shade-happy.
Ben and Shelton were searching for the trail. Again.
We were out-of-bounds, but so what? Following the path to Dead Cat was tres routine. When Ben spotted an older run heading north, we'd decided to go off-road.
Screw you, Karsten.
We hadn't located the pack. No surprise there. The entire island was their turf, and canines are masters at stealth. They could be anywhere.
Last year, an enterprising lab tech had installed a timed-release food dispenser in a cave below Tern Point. Whisper and her crew took to it immediately, and were rarely seen near the compound anymore.
Well, until the howling started.
Recently the pack had begun circling the LIRI fence each night, baying up a storm. No one knew why. The guards were thoroughly creeped out.
The change in behavior worried me. If the pack kept making a racket, eventually they might attract too much attention. They weren't really supposed to be there.
But my concern went deeper. Only three members of the family were appearing each night. Coop was missing.
Despite our mission failure, I was enjoying the trek. At one point we'd startled a group of monkeys clustered at a feeder. Somewhat used to people, they'd scurried into the trees to watch us from a distance.
Young males barked and bobbed, putting on a show in the branches. Babies peered from their mothers' backs or bellies. Big ears. Big eyes. Total cuties. Females groomed each other like they were prepping for a prom.
To that point, the hike was a winner.
But after the primate encounter, the track had narrowed, penciled, then disappeared altogether. Glumly, we'd conceded to being lost. Spotting a clearing, we'd cut over, hoping to find the trail on the far side.