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Nellie shook her head. "What's so funny? You both nearly drowned!"
Amy rolled onto her back and looked at Dan.
"Yuck," he said, and gave her a feeble smile. "You look terrible."
* * *
Back on the catamaran, Nellie wouldn't let the first mate anywhere near Amy.
"But I am trained in first aid," he said.
"So am I," she retorted. "Red Cross certified--can you top that?"
The mate handed her the first-aid kit.
Once the blood was cleaned off Amy's face, Dan was relieved to see that she looked a whole lot better. Except for the three-inch gash on her forehead just above her left temple.
"Head wounds bleed a lot, so they usually look worse than they are," Nellie said, all business now. She cleaned the cut and used suture tape to close it. Then she put a gauze dressing on it. She moved her finger in front of Amy's face to make sure her eyes were tracking it and had Amy answer some simple math questions.
"We'll get you checked out by a doctor as soon as we get back to the hotel," Nellie said. "For now, you rest." Dan helped her arrange some deck pillows and towels into a makeshift bed on the catamaran's tarp.
Amy kept insisting that she was fine, and that she didn't want to spoil the rest of the tour for the other
46
passengers. But the captain was firm. The boat would return to Oceanus and drop off Nellie and her charges so Amy could see a doctor.
Nellie went with the first mate to get Amy something to drink. Dan sat down next to Amy. His legs still felt shaky, and his stomach was tight with nerves. It was strange--they'd been in and out of danger a whole bunch of times before, but he couldn't remember ever being that scared. When he'd seen the blood all over Amy's face ... He shivered in spite of the sunshine.
If Nellie can't be trusted, and if--if something worse had happened to Amy ...
He swallowed hard, not daring to finish the thought.
Dan gazed solemnly at the sea. There were lots of boats out today--a racing sloop with tall white sails, a dinghy with a rainbow-striped spinnaker, a fancy black yacht. ... He stretched one arm out along the railing and felt something scratch his wrist.
"Hey!" he said, pulling up his sleeve, "I forgot about this!"
It was the chain around his wrist, which had been covered up by his sleeve.
"What is it?" Amy asked eagerly.
Dan turned so that his back was to the rest of the boat. He took the chain off his wrist. Something dangled from it--a slender, curved, pointy object a couple of inches long. Both the chain and the object were
47
mostly a dull gray now, but it was easy to see that they had once been yellow.
"Gold," Dan said, very pleased. "Silver might have been okay, too, but anything else would have gotten ruined by the saltwater."
"A shark tooth?" Amy said. She touched it hesitantly, as if she were afraid it might bite her.
Dan shook his head. "No, those are a lot more triangle shaped," he said, "and flatter. This looks more like some kind of--of claw Or talon, maybe."
"Wow," Amy said. "That would be one big bird."
"An eagle or a hawk could have a talon this big."
"Or a superchicken." Amy giggled.
Dan looked at her. It wasn't like Amy to make jokes when it came to the hunt for Clues. Maybe that knock on the head had done her some real harm.
As if he had spoken aloud, she said, "My brain must be mush. It's so simple."
"Your brain? Your brain is simple?"
"Very funny. It all makes sense. Tomas cave, right?"
Dan felt as if a lightbulb had switched on in his brain. Amy was so darn smart.
"Bear claw," they said at the same time.
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CHAPTER 6
* * *
Ian adjusted the focus on the binoculars.
"He's definitely got something in his hand," he said, "but I'm not sure what it is. It could be--it's long and pointed--"
"Another fang?" Natalie asked.
She glanced at her mother's wrist. Isabel was wearing a bracelet of heavy gold links that held a small collection of intricate charms. So classy, Natalie thought. Why do the masses persist in thinking that more is always better?
One of the charms was a gold wolf fang. Natalie didn't know why the charm was important, only that it was somehow part of the Clue hunt, and that Isabel was sure there were other charms like it out there somewhere.
They were on the Kabra family yacht, the Universal Force. Natalie loved everything about the sleek black boat, especially its name. It had been Isabel's inspiration, but Natalie and Ian had done the legwork. With the help of the Internet, they had researched
49
anagram sites and found the perfect name.
Universal Force was an anagram for Lucians Forever.
"Whatever it is, they've found it," Isabel said in a grim voice. She lowered the binoculars and stared at Ian, her eyes like laser beams. "How long have we known that the cave was a Tomas site? And you searched it how many times?"
Ian muttered something under his breath. Natalie glanced nervously between her mother and her brother. "Maybe it wasn't there before. Maybe it got washed in by the waves." she said. "Or somebody put it there, um, just now."
She cringed from the force of Isabel's withering glare. "Don't you dare make excuses for him, Natalie," Isabel said. "Those brats have bested you again."
Isabel shoved the throttle. The boat leaped forward.
"I'm telling you both," she said, "I won't stand for it anymore!"
Natalie knew that to the rest of the world, she and Ian were golden. They had it all: money, good looks, intelligence. It was only around Isabel that Natalie found herself feeling uncertain, hesitant, afraid to make a mistake.
Especially lately. It wasn't easy having a mother who was always perfectly dressed and exquisitely coiffed
50
and strode through the world as if she owned it. (She did, in fact, own considerable chunks of it.)
Natalie stood alone at the Force's bow, trying to collect herself. Her mother was always at her worst when it came to Dan and Amy. They made her so angry! Why did they have to keep fouling things up for Natalie's family?
The Kabras had to win the race for the Clues, it was as simple as that. Who else could possibly handle the power and responsibility? The dunderheaded Holts? The shallow, media-crazed Wizards? The inept Alistair Oh and his decrepit uncle?
Any one of them as head of the Cahill clan would be a complete disaster.
From the beginning of the Clue hunt, Ian and Natalie had worked to find the answers, sometimes even competing against each other in an effort to win Isabel's approval. But time after time, Dan and Amy had defeated them.
How was it possible? They're nothing! No family, no power, not even any staff--except for that crazy au pair--how could they have beaten us so many times?
And the worst of it was that her mother had lost faith in Natalie. In Ian, too. Since their failure in Russia, Isabel had taken over, and nothing Natalie or her brother did was ever right.
Now Natalie shivered in the full sunshine. The scene in the hangar was haunting her waking hours as well as her dreams. The propeller, rotating slowly at first,
51
then faster, faster, until it was a lethal blur ... the boy tied to the chair being pushed closer and closer ...
Natalie squeezed her eyes shut tight, which did nothing to block out the image in her mind.
She wouldn't have done it.
She'd have stopped the propeller somehow. At the very last second.
She wouldn't really have killed them. Not like that.
Natalie herself, along with Ian, had tried several times to thwart Dan and Amy in ways that were ... less than pleasant. But their ruses were all planned so they would never have to witness the end results. Which meant that Natalie could--and did--choose not to consider the grisly consequences of their actions. She foc
used instead on the hope that Dan and Amy would be out of the way once and for all.
When Isabel stepped in, some of her plans had followed a similar pattern: the poisonous snakes in the mine, the fire in Indonesia. If those schemes had worked, the Kabras wouldn't have been there when the Cahills actually met their doom. The sharks in Australia--that would have been different, but Natalie hadn't been there. So she had conveniently been able to put any thought of bloodshed out of her mind.
Until the propeller had started its deathly whirl.
Overhead, a seagull made a harsh sound, almost like it was laughing ... like the laughter in her dream.
Natalie gasped and opened her eyes. The person laughing in her dream was Isabel!
52
Could her mother be so cruel and heartless that she would laugh at the prospect of a violent and agonizing death for the Cahills? Is that what the dream meant?
No!
She's perfect! Or as perfect as anyone can be. And nobody really understands her except me--not even Ian. She might be a bit demanding at times, but that's only because she's so determined. She's warned me about this--that people always resent when a woman has a lot of power. ...
Natalie knew that Ian was having doubts about their mother. She had seen it in small ways: how he wouldn't quite meet their mother's eyes and often muttered under his breath when she was around. Perhaps it wasn't surprising; after all, he was the one who had turned on the propeller, following Isabel's orders.
But what else could that laugh possibly mean?
Natalie searched her mind desperately. It could mean--I don't know--there has to be some other explanation--
Suddenly, she lifted her head and laughed herself.
It was all a joke! She just wanted to scare them! That's what my dream is trying to tell me--that laugh--she was joking; she never would have gone through with it!
Practically floating with relief, Natalie made her way down the stairs to her cabin. The things in her shipboard closet from the last fashion season simply had to be thrown away.
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CHAPTER 7
* * *
"Ish ish AY!"
It was not easy to speak clearly through a gargantuan mouthful of cheeseburger. Dan was trying to say "This is GREAT!" but the words came out filtered through ground sirloin and two slices of cheese.
Nellie had organized everything. The resort's doctor was waiting for them at the hotel. She examined Amy and diagnosed a laceration, a contusion, and a possible slight concussion. After redressing the wound, the doctor told Amy to take it easy for the rest of the day.
Nellie had called room service, too; there were burgers and shakes ready for them when they got back to the room. Once again, Dan didn't know what to think. If Nellie was trying to help their enemies, she was certainly going about it backwards.
Now a taxi was out front to take them to the airport. The Cahills had decided that it was time to visit Jamaica.
After they ate, Dan dragged the luggage and
54
Saladin's carrier to the taxi while Nellie checked out. As the driver opened the trunk, Dan got an eerie feeling in the back of his neck as if someone were watching him. He turned slowly and looked around.
At the side of the hotel's big sweeping forecourt, there were bougainvillea bushes in full bloom. Crazy colors--pink and red and sort of orangey. Pretty, if you liked that sort of thing.
Dan stared at the bushes.
Nobody there. He was just about to turn back when he saw it: a pair of eyes peering at him through the branches at the base of one of the bushes.
Green eyes.
Green cat eyes.
He dropped his backpack and took off running.
"Hey!" Amy said. "What are you doing?"
"Cat," he yelled back over his shoulder.
"Dan, wait!"
No use. Dan was chasing the cat, which had bolted as soon as he made a move toward it.
The cat led Dan away from the hotel, down the long driveway to a parade of small shops. He lost sight of it when it darted around to the back.
Panting, Dan trotted after it. The buildings were all nice wooden houses, painted in bright tropical colors, with front porches, chairs, windchimes. ... Everything at the front was very tourist-tidy.
But around the back, there were dumpsters and garbage cans. Cat territory.
55
By the time Dan got back to the hotel twenty minutes later, Amy was frantic and Nellie was furious. In fact, he heard them before he saw them.
"You can't go running off like that!"
"Where have you been?"
"I tried to-"
"What were you doing?"
"I was just--"
"What were you thinking?"
"I thought maybe--"
Nellie put two fingers in her mouth and gave a shrill whistle. "Time out!" she yelled. "You can tell us all about it in the car."
She hustled them into the backseat and tossed Dan's backpack onto his lap.
"OW!" he yelped. He was wearing shorts, and the pack had landed partly on his bare legs.
"I now know the true meaning of pain," he said sadly. "Cat scratches on top of sunburn."
"But it wasn't just any cat," Dan said. He was trying to explain the reason for his sudden disappearance. "It was a calico cat. I tried to catch it, but it scratched the heck out of me and got away."
He rubbed at one of the scratches. "I don't think we should leave here yet," he said. "We still haven't
56
figured out this cat thing, and Hamilton said--"
"Why in the world would--oh." Amy was quiet for a moment. Then she started to laugh.
"What's so funny?" Dan demanded.
She didn't answer, or rather, she couldn't answer. She was laughing too hard. Dan looked at her for a few moments, first puzzled, then annoyed.
"Amy!" he said impatiently. It was no fun watching someone laugh at you.
Finally, Amy gasped for breath and wiped her eyes. "Jack Rackham," she said. "The pirate. He did some pirating here, and later Anne Bonny joined up with him, right?"
"So what?"
"He--his name--" Amy started laughing again, but Dan glared at her so fiercely that she got herself under control more quickly this time.
"His nickname"--snort, chortle--"was Calico Jack."
"Calico Jack?"
Amy's laughing jag released a few final giggles. "Hamilton must have been saying 'Calico Jack,' but you thought he said 'calico cat.'"
"I get it, you don't have to spell it out for me." Dan's face was already pink from sunburn and running in the heat, but he felt it getting even pinker.
Time to change the subject. "Nellie, do you have any first-aid cream handy?"
As they drove away, none of them noticed the black SUV pulling into traffic behind them.
57
Or, for that matter, the discreet gray sedan following them both.
* * *
At the Montego Bay airport in Jamaica, Nellie rented a car, then found a hotel. It was only about eight o'clock in the evening, local time, but they were all exhausted. Dan fell asleep in his clothes.
After breakfast the next morning, they headed for the car on Amy's instructions.
"Kingston," she said.
"Huh," Nellie snorted. Her hand was on the key in the ignition slot, but she wasn't starting the engine. "How about something like, 'Nellie, dear, would you please be so good as to take us to Kingston?' Then I could say, 'Why, yes, Amy, I'd be totally down with that. It's beyond cool to work with such awesome kids.'"
Amy caught herself just before she giggled. She had almost forgotten about keeping Nellie at arm's length. Probably a subconscious thing, she thought, me wanting everything to be all right again ...
"We're in a hurry," she said tersely.
"When are we not in a hurry," Nellie grumbled.
It was a long drive from Montego Bay to Kingston; the hotel desk clerk had told them it would probably take almost four ho
urs.
Amy needed to talk to Dan, but not in front of Nellie. The solution was simple enough.
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"Put your earbuds in," she said, "and turn the music up loud."
Nellie sighed but did as ordered. Then Amy climbed into the backseat. She saw Nellie's eyes flick to the rear-view mirror, so she put her hand over her mouth as she spoke to Dan in a low voice. Nellie probably couldn't lip-read, but Amy wasn't taking any chances.
"I've been reading this really interesting book," she said. "A General History of the Pyrates--py rates spelled with a 'y' the old-fashioned way."
"Amy-"
"Put your hand over your mouth."
Dan complied after a quick glance at the back of Nellie's head. "We were in the Bahamas for about eight hours. You spent more than half that time on a boat and the other half in a doctor's office. When did you have time to buy a book?"
"I didn't buy it. I downloaded it in the Oceanus library. While you were at the water park. And I read it on the plane just now."
"The whole thing?"
"No, silly. Just the chapters about Anne Bonny and Jack Rackham. Anyway, the book was written by this guy named Captain Charles Johnson. But a lot of people think that was a pseudonym and that it was really written by Daniel Defoe--you know, the guy who wrote Robinson Crusoe."
"Oh, yeah," he said. "I knew that. But not everybody has a library catalog for a brain like you do."
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Amy ignored his last comment. She went on. "Anne Bonny joined Rackham's crew. She dressed up as a man and learned how to sail and sword fight and everything, and nobody on the ship except Calico Jack knew she was a woman."
"Pretty cool," Dan said.
"They had a baby in Cuba. But Anne wanted to keep being a pirate, so she left it there with a nanny. And then this new pirate joined them, and it turned out he was a woman, too--Mary Read."
"No way," Dan said in disbelief. "You're telling me that a whole bunch of those old-time pirates were really women?"
Amy shook her head. "No, hardly any. It was just like this big coincidence that they both ended up on the same ship. And supposedly they were just as good fighters as any of the men--sometimes better."
She paused. They could have been pals with Nellie. ...
"Calico Jack's ship got caught by the British Navy," Amy went on, "and the whole crew was put on trial. They were all found guilty and sentenced to death by hanging. But at the last minute, Anne and Mary told the court that they were pregnant. It was against the law to execute a pregnant woman, so they got sent to prison instead. And--"
The 39 Clues Book 9: Storm Warning Page 4
