Free Survival by Gordon Korman Page B

out of the drink. “I guess Charla isn’t interested in marine biology,” she sympathized.
    Ian was in charge of food gathering because he was the only person who could tell what was edible. The good news was that food was everywhere, even on the walls of their home. They would wake up each morning to find the lifeboat covered in giant snails.
    “They’re a delicacy, you know,” Ian told them, gathering an armload, “and a good source of protein.”
    “In your dreams,” said everybody.
    But after bananas and coconuts three times a day, most of them were ready to try anything.
    When she wasn’t in the jungle looking for her brother, Lyssa spent most of her time tinkering with the lifeboat’s scorched. and broken radio. She was a straight-A student with a real knack for electronics and machinery.
    They were surviving, keeping busy, overcoming obstacles. The depression would come suddenly, unexpectedly, without warning. Charla might reach up to smooth her hair, feel the stiff, salt-encrusted tangle, and burst into tears. The crying would sometimes last for hours. Or Ian would grow suddenly silent and sit for half a day, staring morosely out to sea, visualizing who knew what. Any mention of Will could set Lyssa off.
    For J.J., it would start innocently enough. He’d be talking about a great pizza place he knew in L.A. But then, forty-five minutes later, he’d be sitting there on the sand, his arms wrapped around himself straitjacket-style, still mumbling about double-cheese and pepperoni.
    Charla ate less, exercised more, and blew up at anybody who dared mention it.
    “Why don’t you just keep on swimming?” J.J.
    suggested. “At your pace, you should hit the Oregon Coast in another three years.”
    “I should hit your ugly face in another three seconds,” she retorted.
    “Take it easy,” soothed Luke.
    J.J. turned on him, blue eyes blazing. “Who died and left you God?”
    And before Luke knew it, he was shouting, “The captain did, that’s who! And if you hadn’t decided to run up the sails in a gale, he’d be alive, we’d still have a boat, and none of us would be having this conversation.”
    Luke watched in angry satisfaction as JJ.‘s face drained of all color. It was the one topic J.J. couldn’t smirk away. The tears were already on the way when he started running. At the edge of the trees, he turned and spat a single word back at Luke:“Convict!”
    And then Luke was chasing him, intent on war. But the low vines tripped him up and he landed hard, raging at the sky. “No!!”
    Wasn’t this just perfect? Now — now, of all times — everyone was going nuts! Didn’t they see that they had to hold it together if they were going to find Will and get off this rock? Whycan’t they be more like me ? Luke thought.I’m calm! Steady! Balanced! Sensible —
    At the sudden pain in his hands, he looked down. His knuckles were skinned and bleeding. With each thought, he had been having a boxing match with a tree trunk.
    Sensible and steady. Yeah, right.
    J.J. didn’t reappear until late that night. He stepped into the lifeboat and tapped Luke on the shoulder. “I’m on fishing tomorrow.”
    “Okay,” Luke replied. “I’ll work the stills.”
    For once, he was grateful there were so many chores.
    There was one final task that all the castaways kept up day to day. No matter what other job was in progress, five pairs of ears were always listening for the drone of airplane engines that would mean the smugglers were leaving the island. Until those men were gone, the shipwrecked crew of the Phoenix could not light signal fires, or write distress messages in the sand. They would never be rescued if they continued to be forced into hiding.
    “When are they going toscram ?” asked Lyssa in exasperation. “They’ve got their tusks and their horns. What are they waiting for?”
    “That’s what we have to find out,” Luke said decisively.
    So the next morning, Luke and Charla set off for the other side