Great Bear Rainforest Page 7

  “None of this adds up,” I said. “I’m telling you, there’s something strange going on. Four people just don’t vanish into thin air without a single call for help.”

  “What are you saying?” Wyatt asked.

  “All I’m saying is that I wouldn’t be surprised if Dr. Brezner has something to do with all of this.”

  “Would you get that absurd idea out of your head?” Wyatt yelled. “I’m tired of hearing it. Our parents are missing and you’re trying to place blame. What good does that do? This is a huge wilderness. People go missing in the wilderness all the time! It happens!”

  “You have your theory and I have mine!” I shouted back. “I’m not going to argue right now! Bottom line, we have a decision to make!”

  And we did. A big one. Continue our search or return to the ship?

  Being able to talk to Joe and Liam would be helpful. I mean, the Coast Guard might be en route. Maybe a search is under way. Heck, for all we know, our parents could have been rescued already. Alone on this island with radios that don’t work, we have no way of knowing what’s going on and that’s driving me crazy. Then again, if our parents have been rescued wouldn’t they have already returned to pick up the tender? It’s this assumption that makes me think we have no choice but to keep searching.

  WYATT

  11:47 AM

  With the hope that our parents were near, we hiked away from the cove. Soon our path along the shore became impassable and we moved inland. We’re tired and have stopped to rest and eat. I’m still having a hard time getting my bearings on this island. My GPS has been useless. I’m hoping to spot a geographical landmark, such as Whalen or Butedale Lake, so I can place us on the map because it’s pretty much impossible to pinpoint our location in this dense forest. Even along the last stretch of coastline, one cove looked a lot like the next.

  All this hiking has been more strenuous than we thought and we’ve already gone through most of our food. We’re down to one last energy bar and a bag of beef jerky. We’re going to ration what’s left, but if we’re on this island much longer, we’ll have to catch a salmon or collect mussels. A good meal will be needed to keep our energy up. Our canteens are also close to empty, but there’s plenty of fresh water on this island so that’s not a problem. After this break, we’ll continue our trek in the hopes of fi nding everyone … alive!

  A wolf print in the sand

  GANNON

  LOCATION: NO CLUE!

  Our situation is becoming more serious by the minute. I haven’t wanted to admit it to Wyatt, but I can write it in my journal:

  We’re lost!

  Earlier, we made a big mistake when we wandered away from the shoreline and into the forest and now we can’t find our way out. We’ve been trying like crazy to make it back to the kayaks for the past two hours, but my guess is that we’re farther away from them than we’ve ever been.

  An unknown location in the GBR

  I mean, other than the tender, our search has turned up nothing, nada, zilch. There’s just no way to put a positive spin on things at this point. Our mission, so far, has been a total and complete failure.

  Okay, I admit I’m tired. Aggravated. Cold. Grumpy. My feet and legs are aching. In all honesty, I don’t think I could feel worse. So maybe I’m being overly critical, but I just have to get something off my mind so I can focus on the crisis at hand.

  Okay, here it is: my brother is driving me nuts.

  I know he’s a smart kid and aces most of his tests and his IQ is some ridiculously high number and all, but he definitely needs to brush up on his map reading skills. Fine, I’m no good at reading maps either, but I never said I was. I even reminded Wyatt that we needed to stay within eyesight of the coastline during our search, but he wouldn’t listen and kept looking at his map and leading us deeper and deeper into the forest. This is a big island and Joe and Liam said that you can get lost real easy. Well, they were right.

  For whatever reason, Wyatt keeps studying the map, but it’s totally useless. I mean, he may as well be trying to translate Greek.

  “What did you bring that map for anyway?” I asked. “You can’t even read it!”

  “Yes I can!” Wyatt said angrily. “We’re about a half mile from the kayaks.”

  “That’s what you said a half mile ago.”

  “Just keep your mouth shut and follow me!”

  I knew we should have radioed Alu before we left the ship. Maybe she would’ve come with us. I’ll fess up, that’s totally my fault. I was so anxious to get to the island and find everyone that I just couldn’t wait. Now I realize that was a bad call. Alu would have kept us from getting lost. And not only that, she probably would have been able to help us find everyone. But thanks to me, we’re all alone and being alone in this tangled, mountainous forest, well, we’re pretty much helpless. I mean, I hate to say this and all, but I’m beginning to worry we may never get off this island.

  PART III

  THE SECRETS OF PRINCESS ROYAL ISLAND

  Wyatt

  SEPTEMBER 22, 8:03 PM

  The FOURTH LAW OF EXPLORATION reminds us to document all findings. This is especially true when important discoveries are made, so here’s the latest:

  After several hours of aimless hiking, we came to a place where the trees were mangled, bent inland, or snapped in half, leading me to believe we’d arrived on the western shore, where violent storms first hit Princess Royal Island. Moving through the tree cover, a large cove came into view. At the far end of the cove, we spotted two fishing boats trolling around the mouth of a river. Gannon immediately slid down the hillside and ran onto the beach, waving his arms around frantically.

  “Hey!” he yelled. “Over here! Please help us!”

  I caught up with him as fast as I could.

  “They’re too far away to hear you,” I said.

  “Then let’s hurry and get to the other side before they leave. They’ll be able to take us back to the Pacific Yellowfin.”

  Before I got another word in, Gannon took off around the cove. I followed. As we plowed through the bushes, the sharp spines of Devil’s Club sliced my face like tiny razors. Sweat poured down my forehead, stinging the fresh cuts. My legs and stomach were cramping, but I managed to keep up. By the time we reached the other side, I felt like my lungs were about to burst.

  The sharp-edged stems of the Devil’s Club plant

  “Let’s get down there!” Gannon yelled, anxiously. “They’ll be able to see us from the shore!”

  “Wait,” I said, panting. “Something isn’t right.”

  “There are two boats in the cove. Either of them can save us. What could possibly be wrong with that?”

  “But what are they doing here?” I asked.

  “Who cares?”

  “Just give me your binoculars.”

  The captain had said, other than the random sailboat, it was unlikely that we would see another vessel in this area. So what would two fishing boats be doing in protected waters? It just didn’t make sense.

  Leaning against a rock, I caught my breath and looked through the binoculars. The fishing boats were idling just off shore, one on either side of a wide river. There were two men hustling around the back of each boat. The water between the boats was choppy, as if a current from the sea was colliding with the flow of the river.

  “What’s going on, Wyatt?”

  I didn’t answer, only because I didn’t have an answer.

  “If you don’t tell me,” he said, “I’m going to run down there and make sure they don’t leave without us.”

  “Give me another minute. I need to get a closer look.”

  “Fine, I’ll give you sixty seconds. Then I’m going with or without you.”

  We climbed down a muddy slope to a boulder field near the shore.

  “Stay low. I don’t want them to spot us.”

  From the shore, I had a clear view. Stretched between the boats I could see a large fishing net. Trapped inside was a massive school of sal
mon.

  “It’s an illegal fishing operation,” I said to Gannon.

  At any given moment, there were hundreds of salmon jumping through the air, each one trying desperately to make it upriver to spawn. Some of them managed to leap over the net, but most were stuck.

  A third man exited the cabin of the boat closest to us and started shouting orders at the others. His voice traveled over the water and sounded oddly familiar. I focused the binoculars to see if I could make out the shadowy figure. When he returned to the cabin a bulb above the door cast a beam of light across his face.

  I knew that I recognized the voice.

  It was the voice of Dr. Hans Brezner.

  Everything Gannon told me about his files raced through my mind. Could he actually be responsible for what was happening on the island?

  “That’s Dr. Brezner, isn’t it?” Gannon asked.

  I nodded.

  “I told you he was up to no good, Wyatt!”

  “We still don’t know that for sure.”

  At the far end of the cove, just off the point, a bright light flashed two times quickly. It must have come from a lookout, someone they had stationed at the point to keep watch for the Coast Guard. The fishing boats returned the signal, two quick bursts of light. Soon after, their engines revved and the boats started for the open ocean. Sadly, thousands of salmon caught in the nets were being dragged with them.

  As they turned north, I saw Captain Colin standing at the helm of one of the boats.

  “The captain’s alive!” I said, excitedly.

  “Well, that’s a huge relief,” Gannon said. “But what’s he doing mixed up in all this?”

  Taking another look, I saw that the man next to him was holding a gun. It was pointed at the captain.

  “He’s being held at gunpoint,” I said.

  Gannon fell back against the rock and let out a sigh.

  Again, Dr. Brezner’s stern voice carried over the water.

  “Sounds to me like Dr. Brezner is in charge of this whole operation,” Gannon said.

  “Stop jumping to conclusions.”

  “Come on, Wyatt. You admire the guy and you’re letting that cloud your judgment. I think he’s involved, whether you want to admit it or not. And if that’s true, he’s probably responsible for Mom and Dad’s disappearance!”

  “That’s enough!” I shouted. “I don’t want to hear anymore!”

  Frustrated, Gannon stood and walked off.

  “You’re so stubborn sometimes,” he said, as he climbed over the rocks. “I’m heading back around the cove. You can catch up whenever you feel like it.”

  What bothers me most is that Gannon’s accusations have some merit. The doctor’s involvement is definitely suspicious. I can’t make heads or tails of what’s going on. I wonder if they are netting the salmon at the mouths of other rivers, too. I wonder if these men are responsible for the low salmon numbers Alu observed last season. I wonder just how damaging a large-scale netting operation would be to the Great Bear Rainforest. It’s as if they are trying to sabotage the entire ecosystem. Why would someone do such a thing? For the life of me, I just can’t understand it.

  GANNON

  LATE AT NIGHT

  When Wyatt caught up with me we called a truce and went looking for something to eat near the shore so we could keep the last of the food we’d brought for morning. It was pretty dark with only a little moonlight coming through the clouds and that made the search pretty difficult, but eventually I came across a shallow pool in the rocks that was full of mussels. We stuffed our jacket pockets and rinsed them in a nearby stream before taking cover in the woods to eat. With our pocketknives we cracked open the shells, tore away the beards and slurped down the slimy mussels. They were all rubbery and salty and would have been hard for me to stomach under normal circumstances, but we were so hungry we swallowed them one after another and soon my hunger pains went away.

  After eating, we tramped back into the dark and looked for a place to stay the night. By total luck we found this narrow little cave under a steep rock face, a couple hundred feet up from the beach. We’re now settled into a nook within the cave where the ground is dry, so we figure it’s pretty well protected from the rain and not a place where a flash flood might wash us away.

  Tonight it’s going to be a challenge to stay warm. I mean, I’m already cold and have my jacket zipped up over my mouth and I’m breathing into it to fill the area around my body with warm air. That’s all the warmth I’m going to get because there isn’t enough ventilation in this cave to start a fire, and even if we wanted to start one it’d be nearly impossible in this cold, wet place, being out of fire starters and all.

  When I opened my journal, I thought that making some notes on our camp might occupy my brain for a while, but the fear of being alone on this island and knowing Dr. Brezner is up to no good and the worry that we’ll never find my parents and the fact that we have no way to call for help, well, all these things are just eating me up inside.

  I desperately need some sleep.

  WYATT

  SEPTEMBER 23, 8:43 AM

  After a frigid night in the cave, we finished off the last of our food and set out before first light. My whole body aches. My face is scraped up and welted from insect bites. My mouth is dry. My lips are cracked and bleeding. We need to find a good stream and drink. Worst, I can’t stop thinking about my parents. I even dreamt about them last night. We have to find them. Have to. But that’s the problem. We’re lost.

  Neither of us feels much like talking right now. Really, there is nothing more to say.

  GANNON

  Well, this sure is interesting. We’ve stumbled upon a small camp. Kind of looks like an army barrack with a few tents all covered in moss and tree limbs and stuff. Two men are standing around outside and it looks like they have guns. We’re pretty high above the camp, hidden behind some trees. Planning to go in for a closer look. Our parents could be down there!

  WYATT

  SEPTEMBER 23, 10:52 AM

  We’ve been spotted!

  We’re on the run!

  Two gunmen are after us!

  We’ve lost them for now, but I know they’re still coming. They wouldn’t give up that easily. I’m writing just in case anything should happen to us. I’m writing for my parents, for the authorities, or whoever might find this journal. There’s so much to tell, but we have to keep moving …

  GANNON

  We hadn’t seen the gunmen in a while and I was begging Wyatt to stop because my legs were about to buckle and my heart was beating out of my chest and I needed to catch my breath. We found a good flowing stream coming out of the mountains and stopped to drink and wash our faces and rest along the bank. I hid myself behind a rock and looked around. Everything was still the same—the forest and mountains and rocky coast, everything! It seemed more likely than ever that we’d be on this island for the rest of our lives, not that that would have been long given the way we were going, then, just like that, our luck took a turn.

  We left the stream and were heading north, I think, and trying to keep as close to the shore as we could with the hope that we would somehow avoid the gunmen and miraculously stumble upon the kayaks and paddle back to the Pacific Yellowfin and be saved, when I caught sight of something moving through the trees. I pulled Wyatt down behind some bushes.

  “Stay down,” I said. “Someone’s coming.”

  “Where?”

  “Up ahead.”

  “Is it the gunmen?”

  “I don’t know.”

  When I looked through my binoculars, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  It was Alu!

  The way she moved through the forest, making it look so effortless, it was almost like she was on a stroll in her own backyard. Wyatt and I both ran from the bushes as fast as we could and yanked her down behind some rocks.

  “Sorry for scaring you, Alu,” Wyatt whispered, “But we have to stay out of sight. We’re being chased by two armed men.”
>
  “Two armed men?” she repeated, confused.

  “How in the world did you find us, Alu?” I whispered.

  “When I was told you both left the boat against Joe’s orders, I thought you might need help, so I came to the island and tracked you. On a mountainous island like this, follow the path of least resistance and you will almost always find what you’re looking for.”

  “Have you heard anything about my parents?” Wyatt asked.

  “No, I’m sorry,” she said. “No word on your parents, but most people believe the captain and Dr. Brezner are dead.”

  “That’s not true,” I said. “They’re alive. We’ve seen them.”

  “You have?”

  “Listen,” I said, “Dr. Brezner is not who he seems.”

  “We don’t know that,” Wyatt argued.

  “Okay, fine, I’m not 100% sure, but I think he’s somehow involved in my parents’ disappearance. Last night we saw a couple fishing boats netting all these salmon at the mouth of some river and Dr. Brezner was on one of the boats shouting orders. Captain Colin was there, too, but it looked like he was being forced to help. Then, this morning we came across a camp hidden in the woods and now we got a couple lunatic gunmen after us.”

  “My father has always felt that Dr. Brezner was not to be trusted,” Alu said.

  “Listen,” Wyatt said, “can you help us find our parents?”

  “Do you think they’re in the camp?”

  “They might be,” Wyatt said, “but we can’t go back there unless we’re with the Coast Guard. It’s too risky.”

  “The Coast Guard is searching the island, too, but they haven’t found anything. Have you come across any clues that could help lead us to them?”

  “We found the tender that they took ashore. It’s anchored in a cove somewhere on the eastern side of the island.”