Free The Devil's Cauldron by Michael Wallace Page B

it a shot.”
    Meggie stared in frustration as Kaitlyn quite blatantly manipulated him. You couldn’t blame Duperre for giving in—he didn’t know Kaitlyn except online. But didn’t Benjamin know by now his cousin’s true character?
    “Okay,” he said. “I guess we can.”
    “Oh, come on,” Meggie said.
    He gave a sheepish shrug. “Sorry, Megs. Don’t be mad.”
    Even then Meggie knew she should balk. If she refused to go down, Benjamin and Kaitlyn would have no choice but to scrub. They could either try again tomorrow or not. Duperre and HalfOrc would think she was overreacting, but what did that matter?
    When Meggie was eleven, she had gone to Six Flags as part of a classmate’s birthday party. Because her uncle and aunt were unmotivated to help her develop a social life, she’d had few opportunities to make friends among her peers, and so she was terrified of standing out. She had climbed into one of those swing carousels that spun a bunch of kids fifty feet above the ground, when she discovered that the buckle of her harness wouldn’t latch. It was supposed to hold her in her seat, but it was broken.
    The teenage employee who was supposed to go around checking the harnesses started two swings beyond her as he went around the circle, and in his laziness, stopped just short on the other side. She was going to point out the broken buckle when he came, but then realized in fear when he turned his back that he was never going to check to make sure she was secured. Meggie opened her mouth to yell for him to look at her swing before he flipped the lever and started the ride, but her voice died in her throat. There were girls all around her and they would laugh. And besides, it was probably her fault, not the swing at all.
    I’m going to die of embarrassment, she thought. I don’t want to look like an idiot, so I’m going to get flung fifty feet in the air and get killed.  
    She struggled in terror with the buckle as the ride picked up speed. Even then, as she passed the bored kid at the controls, she could have screamed for help, but didn’t. At the last moment, the harness latched.
    Here she was, a dozen years later, and nothing had changed. She was about to die of embarrassment. Not that she truly believed that Kaitlyn had poisoned Duperre and HalfOrc, but she might have. Why not? That was her style. And it was doubtful that Kaitlyn would pull a stunt 200 feet underground, but she might. That was the terrifying thing. Meggie was convinced that Kaitlyn had a shorted circuit in her moral GPS. The little internal computer that said, hey, don’t push someone off a cliff because you don’t like her screwing your cousin.  
    But Meggie had been backed into a corner. And she didn’t speak up. Instead, she laced her boots, slathered sunblock, and strapped on her pack. Then she followed Benjamin and Kaitlyn up the hillside and away from the two sick men at the truck.
    And hiked toward the cave in the desert.

Chapter Eight
    Eric woke up in the new facility on his first morning and completely forgot about looking for the pretty lady. Everything was so new and wonderful here in Colin . . . Colina . . . Foggy Hill. That’s what Wes said the Spanish name meant. It had a swimming pool and parrots in the trees and eleven different kinds of breakfast cereal. He counted. Eleven!  
    It was only when he was walking back to his table with a third bowl of cereal that he remembered. He happened to glance to one side, at the wheelchair team, sitting around a big table on the veranda. They were eating outdoors. You couldn’t do that in Vermont most of the year. Not when there was snow. Heck, no!
    Then Eric stared at the wheelchair people, his mouth open, wondering. They were all ages, young and old, with their heads slumping on their chests while aides spooned food into their mouths. Some had head restraints. One woman wore a string of pearls around her neck, and another old lady wore big diamond rings.
    “Come on, Eric,”