Free Haunted Island by Joan Lowery Nixon Page B

secure here.’ ”
    Amy rested the book on her lap. “This cave must be the one Amelia wrote about,” she said.
    Chris found he was eager to hear more. “What else does she say about the cave?”
    Amy silently read a few paragraphs ahead and thumbed through the rest of the pages, reading a bit here and there. She closed the book. “She doesn’t mention the cave again.”
    Chris sat next to Amy. “Amos brought us to the island. He said he would do anything to help Amelia. And someone led us to this cave.” He began to get excited. “When I walked into the Hanovers’ house I stumbled on the box that held this journal, and I think now it was deliberately put in my path. It was part of the whole thing.”
    “Why?” Amy asked.
    “Hasn’t it occurred to you, Amy?” Chris asked. “It’s our reason for being on this island. Amos told us to put the ghosts to rest. I think we can do it by finding Amelia.”
    Amy’s voice was barely a whisper, and she moved closer to Chris. “How can we find Amelia?”
    “By looking in this cave,” Chris said. “I think she’s in here with us!”

12
    A MY JUMPED UP SO suddenly she dropped the journal. “Don’t talk like that, Chris! You’re scaring me!”
    Chris got to his feet. A drop of bubbling pitch landed on one finger. “Ouch!” he yelled, and popped his finger into his mouth.
    “I mean it!” Amy said. “We aren’t even sure that Amelia stayed on the island. Maybe Joshua was right. Maybe she did get into the boat with the bag of money. Maybe she was glad to escape. Maybe she drowned. We don’t know.”
    The flames at the end of the pine torch wavered and almost went out, as though a breeze had blown through the cave.
    “You don’t believe that,” Chris said as he tried to shelter the torch.
    Amy sighed. “I guess not.”
    Chris picked up another limb and lit the end of it from the one he was holding. “Here,” he said, handing it to Amy. “Hold this away from your body. If that hot pitch drops on your hand it hurts.”
    Amy held it out as she turned slowly in a circle, examining what they could see of the cave. “Where do we start to look for Amelia?” she asked.
    “At the far end of the cave,” Chris answered.
    This time Amy led the way. The room they were in became gradually narrower and lower.
    “It’s ending in a tunnel,” Amy said. “We’ll have to crawl to get into it.”
    “How far back does it go?” Chris asked. Amy got on her knees and held her torch out in front of her. “Dead end,” she said. She got up and brushed off the knees of her jeans.
    “Did it look like a landslide had closed off this room?”
    “No. It’s only three or four feet deep and ends in a solid rock wall.”
    Chris had to look, too, just to make sure that Amy was right. The wall seemed to be an original part of the cave.
    “So that’s that,” Amy said. She sounded relieved.
    Chris glanced at the pile of rock and dirt and limbs that must have cascaded into the cave long ago. “Think about the earthquake, Amy,” he said. “Amelia was terrified. She ran to a place where she had always felt protected and safe—this cave that was all her own. But she wasn’t protected and safe here. The earth moved so violently that part of the roof of the cave was torn apart, and rocks and dirt and trees poured in.”
    Amy stared at the side of the cave. “Do you think Amelia’s body is under all that?”
    “Yes,” Chris said. “Don’t you?”
    “How will we find her?”
    “I wish we had a couple of shovels,” Chris said, “but we don’t, so we’ll use our hands.”
    “Do we really have to look for her?” Amy asked. Then she answered her own question. “I guess we do.”
    “You take that side. I’ll take the other,” Chris said. “Find a place nearby that will hold your torch.”
    “This might take days and days!” Amy complained.
    “I don’t think so,” Chris said. He propped his torch into a hole in the cave floor and got on his knees. The earth in