nodded. “I think the gauge on mine was screwed up. I had to switch over to the emergency real early on.”
“Why didn’t you give me a signal?” Rick demanded. “My air supply was okay. Jeez, Kioki, if we’d been down deep, you coulda been in real trouble.”
An expression of sudden fear came over Michael’s face, and Josh spoke quickly. “But we
weren’t
deep. We’re all fine, and all we have to do is put this crap back in the dive shop and make sure that next time everything works right. Okay?” He looked from one face to another, as if daring anyone to challenge him.
“Don’t you think we ought to tell Ken?” Rick finally ventured.
“Tell him what?” Josh demanded. “That we snuck in and borrowed his stuff?” His voice took on that edge of sarcasm already familiar to Michael. “That’d be a real good idea, wouldn’t it?”
“So what do we do?” Jeff Kina asked.
Josh shrugged. “What we were always planning to do. Nothing happened, so we take the stuff back, clean it up, and go home. Or do you all want Ken calling the cops on us?”
As they moved closer to the fire, letting its warmth drive the chill of the water out of their bodies, no one said anything.
No one had to.
Michael gazed past the campfire’s flames at the dark pool of water, and shivered as he realized how close to danger they had come.
But nothing
had
happened. He hadn’t panicked, and he’d gotten the weights off, and …
And he wished he’d never come on this dive.
CHAPTER
8
Rick Pieper glanced at his watch—it was 11:35. If his folks were still up, there’d be hell to pay, since he’d sworn he’d be back no later than eleven. But it had taken longer than they thought to get all the equipment back into the dive shop, and even when they were done he was pretty sure Ken would notice in the morning, no matter what Josh Malani had said. Well, if Ken figured it out, Malani would just have to find some way to get them all out of it. One thing about Josh—he could always figure out something. Now, as Rick slowed his car to make the left turn off the highway to the village in the cane fields where Kioki Santoya lived, he tooted his horn at Josh’s beat-up truck, which sped on up the mountainside.
“Want me to drive you all the way home?” Rick asked a few minutes later as they approached the intersection where he’d have to turn to drop Kioki at his house.
The other boy shook his head. “My mom’ll wake up. Seems like she can hear a car a mile away. Just let me out up here, and I’ll walk the rest of the way.”
Rick Pieper pulled the car over close to the ditch. As Kioki opened the door, he felt something funny, like a wave of dizziness. Hesitating, he wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have Rick drive him the rest of the way homeafter all. But the feeling passed as suddenly as it came on. Kioki slammed the door shut behind him. “See you in the morning,” he called. Rick popped the clutch on his car, taking off with a screech of wheels and a cloud of dirt that kicked up into Kioki’s face. Flipping his friend the finger, Kioki started along the narrow road.
He hadn’t gone more than a hundred yards when the strange feeling came over him again, a dizziness, then a pressure in his chest. Suddenly, he felt just as he did when they burned the cane fields at night and he forgot to close his bedroom window.
Coughing, he stopped and looked around, searching for the fire, but saw nothing except the sweep of stars across the sky and the sinking moon, dropping toward the horizon.
Nor could he smell the acrid fumes that boiled off the fields when they burned them, or hear the crackling of the blazing cane that always sounded like it was right outside the house even when it was a mile away.
His coughing subsided, but the pain in his chest got worse.
What the hell was going on? He was never sick!
Kioki began to walk again, but within a few yards had to slow down. His whole body was starting to hurt now, and his
“Why didn’t you give me a signal?” Rick demanded. “My air supply was okay. Jeez, Kioki, if we’d been down deep, you coulda been in real trouble.”
An expression of sudden fear came over Michael’s face, and Josh spoke quickly. “But we
weren’t
deep. We’re all fine, and all we have to do is put this crap back in the dive shop and make sure that next time everything works right. Okay?” He looked from one face to another, as if daring anyone to challenge him.
“Don’t you think we ought to tell Ken?” Rick finally ventured.
“Tell him what?” Josh demanded. “That we snuck in and borrowed his stuff?” His voice took on that edge of sarcasm already familiar to Michael. “That’d be a real good idea, wouldn’t it?”
“So what do we do?” Jeff Kina asked.
Josh shrugged. “What we were always planning to do. Nothing happened, so we take the stuff back, clean it up, and go home. Or do you all want Ken calling the cops on us?”
As they moved closer to the fire, letting its warmth drive the chill of the water out of their bodies, no one said anything.
No one had to.
Michael gazed past the campfire’s flames at the dark pool of water, and shivered as he realized how close to danger they had come.
But nothing
had
happened. He hadn’t panicked, and he’d gotten the weights off, and …
And he wished he’d never come on this dive.
CHAPTER
8
Rick Pieper glanced at his watch—it was 11:35. If his folks were still up, there’d be hell to pay, since he’d sworn he’d be back no later than eleven. But it had taken longer than they thought to get all the equipment back into the dive shop, and even when they were done he was pretty sure Ken would notice in the morning, no matter what Josh Malani had said. Well, if Ken figured it out, Malani would just have to find some way to get them all out of it. One thing about Josh—he could always figure out something. Now, as Rick slowed his car to make the left turn off the highway to the village in the cane fields where Kioki Santoya lived, he tooted his horn at Josh’s beat-up truck, which sped on up the mountainside.
“Want me to drive you all the way home?” Rick asked a few minutes later as they approached the intersection where he’d have to turn to drop Kioki at his house.
The other boy shook his head. “My mom’ll wake up. Seems like she can hear a car a mile away. Just let me out up here, and I’ll walk the rest of the way.”
Rick Pieper pulled the car over close to the ditch. As Kioki opened the door, he felt something funny, like a wave of dizziness. Hesitating, he wondered if maybe he shouldn’t have Rick drive him the rest of the way homeafter all. But the feeling passed as suddenly as it came on. Kioki slammed the door shut behind him. “See you in the morning,” he called. Rick popped the clutch on his car, taking off with a screech of wheels and a cloud of dirt that kicked up into Kioki’s face. Flipping his friend the finger, Kioki started along the narrow road.
He hadn’t gone more than a hundred yards when the strange feeling came over him again, a dizziness, then a pressure in his chest. Suddenly, he felt just as he did when they burned the cane fields at night and he forgot to close his bedroom window.
Coughing, he stopped and looked around, searching for the fire, but saw nothing except the sweep of stars across the sky and the sinking moon, dropping toward the horizon.
Nor could he smell the acrid fumes that boiled off the fields when they burned them, or hear the crackling of the blazing cane that always sounded like it was right outside the house even when it was a mile away.
His coughing subsided, but the pain in his chest got worse.
What the hell was going on? He was never sick!
Kioki began to walk again, but within a few yards had to slow down. His whole body was starting to hurt now, and his
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