by Ally Condie
Nico glanced at the woods. He didn’t have much hope for the drone, yet as he stared at the forest, he felt an odd pull. He shivered, even as a thrill ran through him.
Then Opal stomped past him, heading directly for the woods. “Well?” she called over her shoulder. “The light won’t last forever.” She reached the first row of gnarled trunks and slipped between them.
“I do not understand girls,” Tyler muttered.
Nico nodded mutely.
“Because you’re both doofuses,” Emma said brightly. “Opal’s right, though.”
Nico squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Come on. She’ll probably find the quad sitting on a pedestal, and we’ll never live it down.”
Ten feet in, the forest gloom enveloped them. Nico tripped on a root and nearly tumbled into a stream. Shaking water from his sneaker, he pointed to a heel print in the mud. “Opal’s following this creek. Let’s hurry. The last thing we need is for anyone to get lost.”
The woods began to thin as they followed the stream. Nico caught up to Opal on a rocky crease poking above the tree line. He nodded to her awkwardly, then glanced away, gazing back the way they’d come. He could see only misty treetops, with glimpses of the beach below.
Without a word, Opal resumed climbing. Together they scrambled over broken boulders covered in wet pine needles, cursing scrapes and a skinned knee. Nico ripped off his hoodie and left it on a moss-covered rock. At the top of the ridge, Opal wobbled upright, peering down at the other side. Her eyes widened and she gasped.
Nico joined her, following her line of sight. “Oh, wow.”
In the center of the island was a pond—a blue-black circle of darkness that swallowed the light around it. Nothing reflected off its surface. The water lay flat and still.
The pond was unsettling. It looked like a hole in the world.
And there was something floating on the pond.
“It’s a … house,” Opal said, at the exact moment Nico asked, “Is that a boat?”
The gray-planked structure rose two stories, with grimy windows and a wide front porch. It looked regal and dilapidated at the same time, as if a fancy hotel had grown from the water and been left to rot.
The ancient houseboat—for Nico abruptly realized that’s what it was—seemed both dead and … strangely alive. As if it waited for something.
Emma and Tyler clambered up next to them and the foursome clustered atop the same flat rock.
They all stared, words stolen from their lips.
The pull Nico felt earlier returned.
Come inside, the building seemed to whisper.
Come and see what I have for you.
4
OPAL
Come and see what I have for you.
Opal shot a glance at the others, but they were all staring at the houseboat. A strange smile tilted the corners of Nico’s mouth. “Hey,” Opal began, but the word caught in her throat.
“Should we go inside?” Emma’s eyes sparkled, even as she shivered.
Lips pursed, Tyler shook his head. “Nope. No way. That’s how we die. Right there on that boat.” A gust rattled the tree branches behind them and he jumped.
“We could die right here, too.” Opal rubbed her arms. “Of hypothermia.”
Nico shot her a look. “No one’s dying. But we might as well go check it out. Maybe that building has a map.”
“Or dry clothes,” Opal said.
“Or pirate treasure.” Emma started down the hill.
Tyler muttered something about prime Beast hideouts, but he followed after her. Opal and Nico caught up on a long grassy field that bordered the water. Stark and imposing, the houseboat lurked at the center of the pond.
“I’m not swimming in that,” said Tyler. “No chance.”
“No need.” Opal pointed farther up the shore. A line of flat gray stones were scattered across the pond, like a game of hopscotch leading to the houseboat.
“Great.” Tyler heaved a sigh. “Just great.” They circled to the stones. Emma leaped onto the first one, extending her arms for balance. “Come on. I’m the shortest. If I can make it, everyone can.”
“It’s not a matter of can,” Tyler grumbled. “It’s about should.” But to Opal’s surprise he jumped next, landing on the first rock as Emma hopped to the second.
“Go ahead,” Nico said to Opal.
“Such a gentleman.” She bit off the words. “But I don’t mind being last.”
Nico rolled his eyes and followed Tyler. Opal waited until he was halfway across before starting after him. She couldn’t explain why she was so mad, but that didn’t make it go away. “Hurry up, you guys!” Emma waved from the boat’s front porch.
As Opal reached the last stone, Nico held out a hand to help her up. She took it, not wanting to fall. His fingers were warm despite the frosty air and their wet clothes. The rickety steps of the houseboat crunched with splintered wood and dead leaves. Opal worried her foot might go right through. What is this place?
“Take a look at this.” Tyler pointed to the entrance. “Weird, right?” The door was made of wood framing a thick pane of warped, foggy glass with air bubbles trapped inside. Opal couldn’t see through it.
“A glass door on a boat?” Nico’s mouth twisted. “Who thought that was a good idea?”
Emma stepped forward and tried the knob. It didn’t budge.
Tyler clapped his hands together. “Welp. Guess we should leave it alone, then.”
Opal joined Emma and they tried together. The knob finally turned with a screech and the girls forced the door inward with their shoulders. Scents of decay rushed out to greet them.
Opal took a tentative step into the dusty foyer. Ahead was a cobwebbed archway covered by a green velvet curtain. She heard the door close behind her.
“Oh, wow,” Emma whispered. “Way cool. Like our own Night at the Museum.”
“People got hurt in those movies,” Tyler mumbled darkly, but even he seemed awed.
Opal crossed to the heavy curtain and pushed it aside. Her breath caught.
An enormous room opened up before her, lit by grimy glass skylights. Broken sunshine slanted through them, illuminating a haphazard assortment of strange objects. Paintings. Wooden chests loaded with crusty books. Knickknacks of every shape and size. Old photographs hung in crooked frames along the walls, some of them broken. A jumble of antique weapons filled an open coffin beside the door.
“Whoa.” Emma bit down on her thumbnail. An animal’s skeleton dangled from the ceiling, knotty bones wound and spiraling in a loop, ending with an elongated skull. Opal lifted the yellowing placard affixed to its tail, but the ink had faded away.
“This isn’t a museum,” Tyler muttered, sounding queasy. “We’re in a psychopath’s attic.”
“It’s definitely some kind of collection.” Nico brushed a fraying red rope strung between two tarnished poles.
They wandered down a center aisle dividing the overstuffed room. Emma pointed to a crate with Mummy branded on its side. Inside was something shriveled and brown, curled up as if avoiding their eyes.
“Looks like jerky,” Nico said, peering closer.
“Ugh.” Opal pinched her lips together. Did he have to be so disgusting?
“We could eat it to survive,” Emma said cheerfully. When Opal stared at her, she shrugged. “What? In this movie I saw, Natural Selection, they totally did that.”
“Never heard of it,” Opal said.
“Most people haven’t. But it’s really good. Well, not good so much as gross.”
“Whoa, check this out.” Tyler was staring into an iron-banded chest filled with twinkling gemstones. “Any way these puppies are real?”
Nico grinned wickedly. “If so, we’re rich!”
“You want to rob the place?” Opal couldn’t believe it. They’d found a storehouse full of amazing, awesome things, and he was talking about stealing them?
“We don’t all live on Overlook Row,” Nico muttered.
Op
al bit her lip. She used to live a block from Nico, but when his dad made a federal case about those owls, people lost their jobs. That allowed her parents to snag the big yellow house they’d wanted for years. Her mother had foreclosed on the property herself as part of her work at the bank.
In fact, Opal’s moving was kind of Nico’s fault, if you thought about it. At the very least, it was his dad’s.
Opal crossed the showroom floor in search of another door. Cool or not, the place was also starting to give her the creeps, like a wax museum she’d been to once in San Francisco. It felt like everything was watching her.
A pedestal near the back of the chamber caught her attention. Atop it sat a large jar with something green floating inside. Curious, Opal walked over to investigate.
“What’s that?” Emma asked, following along. “One of those old lava lamps?”
“I don’t know.” Emma’s description was a good one. Inside the bulky jar was … something. A shifting, lime-colored blob. On impulse, Opal pressed a finger to the glass, like she used to do at the aquarium when she was little.
“What the heck?” Nico asked, joining them. Emma grabbed his arm, her face flushing with excitement. “Nico, this is the coolest place on Earth, and no one else knows about it. I claim this houseboat for us. Me, you, and Ty—we have a clubhouse now!” She bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes alight.
Opal’s stomach knotted. Me too, right?
The thought surprised her. Was that what she wanted? A weird hideout five miles from town, shared with three kids she never hung out with, or even talked to much?
Yes, she realized. Almost all summer she’d been tagging along with Logan and his friends. Hoping for … something to happen. Anything new or different. And now she’d found it.
Opal glanced at Nico, and found him watching her. Before she could think of what to say, Tyler called out from across the room. “Yo! Genius Boy over here found a map of Still Cove. It shows how we can paddle out of this nightmare.” He sauntered down the aisle with a scroll in his hands.
“Time to go,” Nico said, and Opal felt a door slam shut between them. “My dad gets home tonight, and he’ll freak out if I miss dinner.”
“Boooo.” Emma moaned. “Okay, fine. But we are coming back. Like, tomorrow, right?” She nodded in answer to her own question before glancing at Opal, eyes curious. Not inviting, but not rude either.
Nico snorted. “Like we could stop you.”
“Back into the cove again.” Tyler rubbed his eyes. “Mercy. Let’s just get this boat ride over with.”
“It’ll be fine.” Nico pushed Tyler’s shoulder. “Nothing ate us the first time, right?”
Tyler groaned, but Emma giggled. Even Opal cracked a smile. They all headed for the door, leaving behind a herd of dusty footprints and a swirling, mist-green jar.
5
NICO
Breakfast was cold cereal again.
Nico didn’t mind. He liked cereal, and his father knew enough to stock more than one box when he went away. But the milk had gone bad, so Nico had to eat it dry. It was better than nothing.
He glanced at the calendar tacked to the kitchen wall. His brother had gone to Gonzaga this year and wouldn’t be home until Thanksgiving, which was both a relief and a drag. Rob could be moody—he liked to rub Nico’s face into the carpet as a joke—but he also used to make the backup grocery runs. Now Nico had to do it.
They’ll all stare at me in the supermarket. Whispering. That’ll be fun.
Nico shook off the unpleasant thought. There was nothing he could do about it.
He put his bowl in the sink, grabbed his brother’s old Sonics pullover—his pullover now—and slid into his ratty backpack. Shutting off the TV in the small den, he left by the side door, making sure to lock it behind him.
His father had been due back last night, but he’d spotted something up by the timberline that needed checking out. At least, that’s what his text message said. No big deal. Nico got himself ready for school every day anyway.
His mom had died when he was three and he didn’t remember much about her. Just feeling loved and warm, a kind voice, and sometimes a gentle face. He avoided pictures of his mother because he didn’t want to replace that. The memories were flawed, but they were his. Nico wanted to keep it that way.
They were just the Holland boys for years, one big and two little. But now Rob was gone and his dad worked all the time. Lately, Nico felt like he was on his own.
The wind outside had turned cold. Next door, Mr. Murphy was sweeping leaves off his front porch. Their eyes met as Nico walked by, and he felt the old man’s glower burn into him. Nico looked away, hurrying toward the sidewalk. Mr. Murphy had been a shift foreman at the mill before the layoffs. He wasn’t now.
It was seven blocks to Timbers Middle School. Lately, it felt like a million. Not everyone was as hostile as Mr. Murphy, but neighbors watched him from their bungalows with closed-off faces. Nobody called down hellos anymore. Nico began to breathe easier once he reached the park three streets down. The rolling fields and evergreen trees were an oasis of calm before the even rockier shore of the school yard.
He’d lived here all his life. Timbers was a quiet little mill town, nestled between the bluffs of Skagit Sound. There were three big roads and two traffic lights, with everything running along Otter Creek down to the docks. Too remote to be a true tourist destination, Timbers relied on ferry traffic to keep its businesses open, though it was often a struggle. Things had gotten worse since the mill cutbacks, but Nico tried not to think about that.
He was always trying not to think about that.
Nico spotted the school ahead, and his spirits dropped again. He glanced right, down a steep lane plunging toward the docks, and left, at a dirt road climbing into the mountains. Either option would be better than going to school. Hiking, fishing, scanning for birds. Whatever. But his father would crush him if he skipped school. Warren Holland didn’t understand how it was for Nico, or he chose not to care. Nico couldn’t decide which was worse.
Heaving an enormous sigh, he hitched his pack and headed into battle.
He avoided the playground crowd and slipped into the building, beelining to his locker. For once there were no nasty surprises inside. Nico grabbed his physical science textbook. It was his favorite subject, and Mr. Huang was the one teacher who seemed openly sympathetic to his predicament.
He closed his locker. Wheeled around. And nearly barged into Opal.
Had she been waiting behind him? Or was it pure coincidence?
“Hey, Nico.” Opal’s hand rose to tangle itself in her shimmering black hair. As a kid Nico had been fascinated by Opal’s hair, though he’d usually expressed it by yanking on her braid and giggling as she slugged him for it. That was a long time ago.
“Hey,” he said back. The uncomfortable moment stretched as they both examined their shoes. Nico cleared his throat, but nothing followed.
“Are you going back to the houseboat later?” Opal blurted.
Nico shrugged, uncertain how to answer. “I haven’t talked to the others yet, but I know Emma wants to. So, I guess …” He trailed off, and Opal made no effort to fill the dead air again. Nico realized they hadn’t spoken in the hallway all that year, and maybe not the year before that, either. He wasn’t sure he wanted to. The image of her on Logan’s four-wheeler played in his head. Was she a friend at all?
“Nico, I want to—”
She didn’t get a chance to finish. As if summoned by Nico’s thoughts, Logan appeared behind her, with Carson and Parker looming at his back.
Nico ground his teeth. He’d been close to a clean getaway that morning, but Opal had ruined it.
“Captain Holland!” Logan saluted, prompting snickers from his flunkies. “Sorry about the drone yesterday. I’m so bad at flying things. I’m like a … a bird brain, you know?”
A weak-sauce taunt, and Nico was tempted to mock Logan for it, but he held his tongue. Logan would just start in some other
way. The safest bet was to keep his mouth shut and wait for the bell.
Nico glanced at Opal, but she was staring at the linoleum. Some friend.
“I hope it wasn’t expensive.” Logan’s eyes cut to Opal to make sure she was listening. “But I have a replacement for you.” He pulled a paper airplane from his textbook and unfolded its flimsy wings. “You can pilot this now, see? Zoom, zoom!”
Logan flicked his fingers and the plane arrowed at Nico’s face, forcing him to bat it aside. Carson and Parker exploded in laughter. Nico’s hands balled into fists. He imagined how good it would feel to slam one into Logan’s smirking mouth.
Nico caught Opal watching him. He saw pity there, which made him feel even worse. For a terrifying moment Nico worried he might start crying in front of her. He lowered his head and took a step down the hall, but Logan stopped him with a hand.
This is never going to end. Not ever.
Logan cocked his head. “Something wrong, Birdman? Are your feathers ruffled?”
“Logan, enough,” Opal hissed.
Logan’s head whipped to her, eyes narrowing. Nico used the distraction to push past him and escape down the hall.
“Catch you later, Eagle Scout!” Parker called after him.
As Nico turned a corner, he saw Logan and Opal speaking in low voices. Carson and Parker hung a few paces back, playing who-can-shove-the-other-harder. Nico stormed out of sight.
Twenty seconds later, he was safely in Mr. Huang’s class. Emma and Tyler were waiting at the workstation the three of them shared. Their conversation broke off as Nico sat heavily and slammed his book onto the table.
Tyler scowled. “Logan, huh?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“We could pour water in his fuel tank?” Emma suggested, mimicking handlebars with her hands. “ATV no more go.”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it.” Nico was a weird mix of angry and embarrassed. “Just leave it alone, okay?” His pulse was slowing, but his stomach still hurt. He thought of Opal buddying around with those jerks, and his lips curled in disgust.
