Moby Clique

by Cara Lockwood

  “Lower, guys!” I shout to Hana, Blade, and Samir, trying to get the backpacks closer to Ryan’s reach.

  “If we go much lower, we won’t be able to hold on at all!” Blade shouts.

  “That’s as far as we can go,” I tell Ryan, who tries again to reach the backpack strap. But this time, his foot slips on the mud and he loses his grip on the root. For a second, my heart goes into my throat as I see him slide straight down, arms flailing. Ryan manages to catch himself on another root just in time to stop his complete free fall. He’s at least another two body lengths down the cliff and there’s no way our backpacks can reach him now.

  “Dammit,” I hiss as Ryan curses and mutters to himself. “Maybe we can find something else to tie together!” I shout down to him, even though I know the outlook is bleak. There’s no way for us to save him.

  “No, forget it,” Ryan says. “You’ll just end up falling down here with me.”

  As I watch, Ryan looks for footholds. But instead of going up, he seems to be heading down.

  “Where are you going?”

  “I think it’s easier just to go down,” he says. “And besides, I think I see something down here. I think it might be the beach.”

  I look down, trying to see where he’s looking, but there are still a few trees around the base of the cliff and it’s hard to make out. The leaves and branches block our view. Ryan, however, is below the top of the trees and seems to be able to see what we can’t.

  “Yeah, there’s the ocean,” he says as he makes his way downward. “And wait. There’s something more.”

  I lean down and watch him jump the last five feet down to the sandy ground. He shakes mud off his legs, then trots out of view for a second. He returns carrying a piece of paper. It looks like it’s been ripped out of Lindsay’s notebook.

  “I think this is Lindsay’s handwriting!” Ryan shouts, holding it up for me to see. He’s right. “We’re close.”

  “What does it say?” I shout down to him.

  “Um…” He pauses, reading. “It looks like she’s just practicing signing her name. Except she’s signing it ‘Lindsay Kent.’” Ryan sounds a little embarrassed.

  Geez. My sister is a dork.

  “You don’t think Peg Leg got her?” Samir asks.

  “There’s no such thing as Peg Leg,” Blade says. “Besides, I thought we agreed it was Ahab.”

  “Do you see anything else?” I shout.

  “No,” Ryan says. “There seem to be some footprints, though. And what looks like a cave, maybe. I’m not sure. I’m going to have to go look. You guys stay there, I’ll be back.”

  Ryan disappears again.

  “I guess we just have to wait for him,” I say. I wish for the hundredth time that Heathcliff was here.

  I hope he’s okay.

  Hana and Samir are sitting on a fallen tree. Blade sits down in a patch of grass and I lean against a tree stump.

  “You guys think Heathcliff is in trouble?” I ask them.

  “Heathcliff is probably eating a Big Mac at the nearest McDonald’s. He’s no fool,” Samir says.

  “Technically, he wouldn’t know what one is,” Blade says. “They didn’t have Mickey D’s in 1847.”

  “Details, details,” Samir says, waving his hand. “By the way, what is edible around here? Isn’t that supposed to be part of your witch training?”

  “We’re taught how to do spells, not how to forage for berries,” Blade says.

  The drums start up suddenly again, causing us all to jump. They’re louder than ever and coming from down below, where Ryan disappeared.

  “You hear that?” Samir whispers.

  “You’d have to be deaf not to,” Hana says.

  “You think that means Ryan’s in trouble?” I ask.

  Back behind us, in the forest, we hear the sounds of branches cracking under feet. Samir jumps, everyone else stiffens.

  “Maybe it means we’re in trouble,” Hana says.

  “Maybe it’s just Heathcliff?” I ask, even as more branches crack to our left, then others to our right. There isn’t just one person coming our way. There are at least three or more. We start to hear the distinct grumble of voices. Men’s voices.

  “What do we do?” Samir hisses at us.

  “Hide,” Blade whispers back.

  Twenty-one

  Samir and Hana jump behind a big tree trunk, Blade crawls into the hallowed-out log, and I’m left to hide myself behind some bushes. My breath nearly stops as I get hit by a serious fit of déjà vu. I realize that this is the exact spot I dreamed about the night before. The bushes, the footsteps, everything. As the footsteps get closer, I suck in a breath and hold it.

  The crack of branches comes closer and I hear the crunch of leaves under someone’s feet.

  A shadow crosses over my head and I freeze, peering out through the brush. I hope I don’t see Peg Leg like I did in my dream. And then, in front of me, I see one dark bare leg and then another. Whoever is standing in front of me is barefoot, and he has spiral tattoos on his ankles.

  I’m almost certain now that he sees me. I glance through a hole in the bushes and see that Hana is crouched opposite me in her hiding space. She sees that I’m about to be caught and I can tell she’s going to do something silly.

  She starts to stand up, even as I shake my head vigorously no. She shouldn’t sacrifice herself for me. But then, she’s already doing it.

  “Hey, you! Over here!” she cries, jumping out from her hiding spot and drawing the man away from me. Before I can do a thing about it, the tattoo guy is off, running toward her, and she takes off at a sprint straight into the woods. I pop up from my hiding place, but it’s too late to distract Tattoo Man. He’s thumping off through the forest after Hana. I get a glimpse of his back. He’s wearing what amounts to rags and has a completely bald head.

  “Hana!” I shout, but Blade and Samir grab me before I can take off after her.

  “Shhhhhh!” Blade says, covering my mouth with her hand. “Listen,” she whispers.

  I realize then that we’re not alone. Tattoo Man wasn’t alone, either, because his friends are coming at us through the woods. All I see are shadow figures, making their way through the trees.

  “We’re trapped,” Samir whines.

  “We’ve got only one way to go,” Blade says, glancing over the cliff. “Down.”

  “We can’t leave Hana,” I say.

  “We have to!” Blade shouts, as she slings her backpack over her shoulder. Then she grabs a root hanging out from the cliff and starts to rappel down the muddy ledge.

  “I don’t know how to climb,” Samir says.

  “Neither do I,” I say.

  We both look at each other and then at the trees in front of us. Two pirate men break through. They’re just like the ones I saw in the woods with Heathcliff. They’re wearing rags and no shoes.

  “You want to fight them or you want to climb?” I ask Samir as I scramble down after Blade, who I see is nearly halfway down the cliff face.

  “Climb—definitely climb,” Samir says, crossing himself even though he isn’t Catholic before scrambling down the cliff. He’s so scared that he passes by Blade and me, scooting in his haste to get down the side.

  “Don’t look down,” Blade warns me, which of course makes me want to look down, and I do. It seems like I’m dangling at the top of a ten-story building. Below, all I can see is what looks like big rocks and some sand. If I fall, I know I’ll hit the rocks.

  “Ugh,” I say, squeezing my eyes shut as my stomach does somersaults.

  “I told you not to look down,” Blade says.

  A bit of dirt hits the top of my head. I look up and see the two men are crawling after us.

  “Pirates!” Samir shouts, panicked. “Peg Leg! Pirates! Aaaaaaaaah!”

  The pirates Samir is referring to are about six feet from us. One of them leans over and tries to swipe at us, but we’re too far.

  I scurry downward faster and lose my footing.
>
  “Agh!” I say, my stomach flipping into my throat as I desperately claw at the side of the hill, hoping to find any kind of traction. I slide for what seems like forever before I finally grab hold of a root. I cling to it, feeling it slice into my palms. Serious ouch.

  “Are you okay?” Blade shouts down to me. I look up at her and nod. Below me, Samir is nearly to the ground. Another clump of mud hits my head. I shake it off and look above me, seeing that the two pirates are gaining on us. Uh-oh. That’s no good.

  Even worse, my root is breaking. It’s literally tearing as I cling to it. I’m still a good twenty feet from the ground and I’m about to lose my only grip on the cliff. I try to reach for another root, but it’s too far. I’m in trouble. Big trouble.

  And then, without any more warning, the root snaps completely and I’m free-falling again, arms and legs flailing against the side of the cliff. I squeeze my eyes shut, bracing for impact with the ground below, but instead my butt lands on something hard but soft. I open one eye to see that I’ve been caught. By Heathcliff.

  “Where have you been?” I ask him.

  “You mean aside from saving you—again?” Heathcliff asks, quirking one eyebrow. I have to smile at this. He’s not wrong. He puts me down, just as Blade finishes her descent. As I knock the mud and dirt off my plaid Bard uniform skirt and inspect myself for cuts and scrapes (I have more than I can count), Heathcliff takes off his Bard blazer and prepares to face the two island people. They, however, don’t seem in any hurry to fight Heathcliff. In fact, their eyes grow wide in fear as they seem to recognize him from somewhere else. Both men start scrambling back up the cliff and, before I know it, they’ve scurried up and over the edge, disappearing back into the trees.

  “Your reputation precedes you,” Blade says.

  “You are seriously the coolest guy ever,” Samir says, putting up a high five. When Heathcliff gives him a look and doesn’t return the five, Samir quickly drops his hand. “And way too cool for high fives even. Right. I forgot.”

  I’m suddenly aware that I’m with Heathcliff and I probably look like a wrinkled, crumpled mess after my little mountain-climbing stunt. Not to mention, having slept in my soggy Bard uniform probably did no favors for me nor my hair. But Heathcliff doesn’t seem to care. He just gives me a warm smile.

  “Did you see Ryan?” Samir asks. “He came down this way.”

  “No, but I may have found Lindsay,” Heathcliff says, holding up her retainer.

  Twenty-two

  “Where did you get this?” I ask, yanking Lindsay’s retainer from Heathcliff’s hand. It’s all bent, like someone’s stepped on it. Not good. Not good at all. “Did you see her? Is she okay?”

  “I don’t know,” Heathcliff says. “I didn’t see her, but I think I know where they might be keeping her.”

  “Who’s ‘they’? Who has her? We have to find her!” I’m definitely starting to panic a little now.

  “Calm down. We will,” Heathcliff says, gently touching my arm.

  “Where did you go anyway?” Blade asks him. “You missed all kinds of drama.”

  “Two men jumped me, taking me by surprise in the forest. They knocked me unconscious and carried me there.” Heathcliff points out to the beach. “I think they’re the same men who took Lindsay since I found her, uh, what do you call this?” He studies it like it’s a dissected frog.

  “Retainer,” I tell him.

  I can’t help but think that she’d never let anyone take her retainer, at least not voluntarily. Lindsay’s in serious trouble and this is all my fault. If I hadn’t pushed her away and been such a lousy sister, she never would’ve listened to Parker in the first place. If anything happens to her, I won’t forgive myself. I just won’t.

  “We should head this way,” he says, taking me by the arm. Heathcliff pushes away some bramble and brush and the woods open up to a huge rocky beach. For a second, I take in the view, which is actually pretty amazing. Big ocean waves crash on the rocky beach, and as far as the eye can see there’s just big blue ocean. A strong cold wind comes off the surf, blowing my hair back. Far in the distance, along the coast, I can see a tiny white dot—the lighthouse, which marks the spot where the Bard Academy ferry usually drops off students for the year. This beach, made mostly of rocks, looks completely deserted.

  “Whoa,” Samir says, standing next to me.

  “It’s water and rocks, what’s the big deal?” Blade doesn’t seem impressed. Then again, things not occult related don’t do much for my former roomie.

  “Footprints,” Samir says, pointing down. “They must be Ryan’s.”

  Heathcliff scowls. “Come on, we don’t have time to lose.”

  Up close, the beach is even rockier than I thought. It’s littered with giant gray boulders and it’s not so easy to get around them. I slip more than once, but Heathcliff catches me, grabbing my arm or hand each time. The wind off the ocean is cold and pierces right through my thin Bard jacket. My hands feel raw and red from the cold and from the scrapes I got on the mountain.

  I can’t see much ahead because there are too many rocks in the way. As far as I can see, there’s just another cliff face, this one all rock and no mud.

  “Not much farther,” Heathcliff tells us.

  We make our way around another series of giant rocks and then, appearing before us, is a giant cave mouth, black and dark and gaping. Even stranger, it seems like the mouth of the cave is naturally in the form of a jagged whale’s tail.

  “Whale Cove,” Samir breathes.

  “Come on,” Heathcliff says, tugging at my hand.

  “We’re going in there?” Samir asks. “But it’s pitch-black.”

  “We have to go,” Blade says. “Come on, I’ll hold your hand, ’fraidy cat.”

  Samir and Blade exchange a long look. There is most definitely something going on between those two. She was all over him sophomore year, but then she started dating a basketball player and forgot about Samir altogether. Personally, I always thought Samir and Hana would hook up, although they bitterly deny any mutual attraction. Still, if Blade’s interested in Samir again, that will definitely make things in our little friend circle more interesting.

  Of course, thinking about Hana makes me wonder if she’s okay.

  “Guys, you think Hana escaped?” I ask them.

  Blade and Samir send me a guilty look. Apparently, neither one of them had been thinking of her.

  “I’m sure she’s fine,” Samir says quickly.

  “Oh yeah, definitely,” Blade says.

  I really hope they’re right. I don’t have much time to dwell on Hana because we’re now walking along a very narrow, rocky path leading inside the cave. When the waves crash on the rocks nearby we get splashed with spray. Above our heads, giant stalactites drip salty water and the whole place smells like salt water and brine. High above our heads I see the flicker of tiny creatures with wings.

  “Birds?” Samir asks, hopeful.

  “No, even better—bats,” Blade says, looking up.

  And then, before we make it too far, something white and sticky drops on Samir’s shoulder.

  “Gross!” he says, trying to wipe his sleeve on a nearby rock wall.

  “Bat droppings are supposed to make good love potions,” Blade says.

  “And that’s supposed to make me feel better how?” Samir asks her.

  Heathcliff flicks open his lighter and the flame casts an eerie glow around the cave. He leads the way down the narrow path and all I can hear are the sounds of water splashing against the rocks and the shuffle of Samir’s feet behind me. We walk for a few minutes, the cave yawning above our heads, the flittering wings of bats casting shadows on the ceiling.

  Up ahead, I see a dim light. As soon as Heathcliff sees it, he shuts off his lighter. He gives us a low shush sound, telling us to be quiet. We creep forward a few more paces, turning a sharp corner, and Heathcliff signals us to duck down. We do, following him as he crawls up to a big boulder and hunches down b
ehind it. I put myself next to Heathcliff, my hand on his back to steady myself, and peer around it to see what he’s seeing.

  There are torches on the walls, which explains the light, but there’s more. Much more.

  At first I blink, not quite believing my eyes. There, in the shallow waters of the enclosed cove, there’s a giant ship. I don’t know for sure, but it looks like a pirate ship. It has vast sails and old wood, and it’s lurching a little to the right. It’s tall, so tall that the top mast nearly touches the ceiling of the cave.

  And there, on the side of the ship, are the unmistakable letters:

  PEQUOD.

  “It’s the ship from Moby-Dick,” I hiss, nudging Blade and Samir. “Hana was right. It was Ahab who was following us.”

  “Since when do you read?” Blade asks me.

  “Since I had to work in my stepmom’s shop all summer,” I say.

  “Whoa. You think someone managed to summon an entire ship from fiction?” Samir asks, a little in awe. “That means the pirates…”

  “Are really a whaling crew,” Blade finishes.

  “Shhhhh,” Heathcliff breathes, putting his hand out to us. We peer around the rock and see that we’re not alone. A few of the crew are milling about on the deck of the ship, which is lighted from within. A yellow glow seeps out of the windows near the stern.

  “Since when do whalers kidnap random students?” Samir asks. “That never happened in the book.”

  “I don’t know,” I say. “But those are definitely the men I saw in the woods near Bard.”

  I’d recognize the toothless one, who chased Heathcliff and me, anywhere. But I notice that I don’t see any of the men who chased us down the cliff.

  We watch as they descend a rope ladder along the side and jump to the ground. They dust off their hands and then head toward us. We all duck down.

  I wait, without breathing, as the crew members shuffle past us and out the other side of the cave opening. We wait a good two or three minutes and then Heathcliff pops his head up and looks around.