I meet Owen down by the lake at dinnertime. The counselor is standing by the water when I arrive, his back to the trees, and a canoe at his feet. He's staring so intently into the dark water that he doesn't notice my arrival until I'm practically standing at his side. Tentatively, I reach up and tap him on the shoulder.

Owen jumps at my touch. Surprise flashes briefly across his face before he plasters on one of his typical, easy-going smiles. "Finn. So good to see you. I didn't think you were going to show up."

"Me either," I say, without enthusiasm. I've held a grudge towards the counselor ever since he gave Ronan and me kitchen duty for asking too many questions about Clancey's accident. "Anyway, what's up?"

"I thought we could go for a quick boating outing," says Owen, gesturing to the canoe. The sight of the chipped, algae-stained boat doesn't bring back many happy memories. "Don't look so worried, it won't take long. I just want to paddle out to the center of the lake and talk. A nice chit-chat between two friends."

I have no intention of chatting or canoeing with Owen, so I decide to skip straight to the point. "Is this about the Kraken?"

Owen looks startled again, but only for a second. I bet he didn't expect me to be so abrupt about it. But I'm not stupid— there's only one reason he would want to talk to me at the lake, and it has to be the Kraken. He must have seen the tentacle that day, even if he acted like he didn't. "Why, yes Finn, this is about the Kraken." His smile doesn't look so easy-going anymore. It's starting to remind me of mom's smile whenever she's asked about dad— taut to the point of snapping. "How about we get in the canoe and talk more about this later?"

An uneasy feeling starts to spread through my gut, like fungus growing on a decaying tree trunk. I can hear my father's cop voice whispering in my ears: don't talk to strangers. Don't get in a stranger's car. Or canoe, in my case. "Why can't we just talk here?" I ask. "It takes at least half an hour to get to the center of the lake, and I still haven't eaten dinner."

"I would rather this conversation be private, Finn."

I glance pointedly around the empty beach. "There's nobody here. Owen."

The counselor grimaces at me. He's not even trying to keep up his fake smile anymore— now, he just looks plain vexed. "Please, don't make this more difficult than it has to be. I don't want it to be difficult."

"I'm not trying to be difficult. To tell you the truth, I don't know anything about the Kraken other than that it lives in the lake. You're talking to the wrong person. If you want more information, I suggest you go ask the Director."

"I don't think you're the wrong person, Finn. I think that you've formed a special bond with the Kraken, and I think you're exactly the person I want to be talking to right now."

"Are you kidding me? I only saw the Kraken once. I haven't formed any kind of bond with it— it  probably doesn't even know I exist."

"Don't lie to me, Finn. I saw you summon it that day on the beach."

"What? I'm not lying, I swear. That day on the beach was an accident. A fluke. I don't know how to summon the Kraken. The only person who knows how to do that is the Director. Seriously, you've got the wrong guy!"

"Finn, please calm down. Like I said before— I don't want to make this difficult."

"Yeah, me either. So leave me the hell alone!"

"You know I can't do that. Please, Finn. Just get in the boat."

I shake my head at him. This is all spiraling out of control now— I can't believe I listened to Ronan, I can't believe I trusted Owen. I have to get out of here so that I can tell the Director what's going on. "You're crazy," I tell him, jerking my finger at his pale face. "You're crazy, and I'm not getting in that canoe with you. I'm not doing anything for you ever again."

I turn my back on him and start walking back to camp. Predictably, I don't make it far.

Seconds later I hear a subtle click that I know can only mean one thing. Slowly, I pivot around to face him.

"Finn," Owen says calmly, his voice as steady and precise as his grip on the gun pointed directly at my head, "I wasn't asking."

***

We paddle out into the lake in silence. It's hard to make small-talk with a person who's holding a gun to your head, so I keep my mouth shut— which is probably for the best, since after Owen threatened to shoot me a vital part of my brain decided to go hide and curl up in a fetal position. It feels like I'm stuck in fight or flight mode without the ability to do either. If I try to escape, Owen will shoot me. If I try to fight him, he'll shoot me, and I'll look like an idiot. So yeah, I'm pretty short on options at the moment. My only choices include: die, die painfully, or die acting like a moron.

The odds aren't looking very good for me right now.

I dip my paddle into the dark water and push, muscles straining with the effort. I'm sure that my shoulders will hurt like hell tomorrow if I miraculously manage to survive this— not that an achy back is high on my priority list. There's another paddle in the boat, but Owen hasn't bothered to pick it up and help. So far, all he's done is aim a gun at my forehead and pretend like he's got nothing better to do. Lazy bastard.

So I keep my mouth shut, and I keep paddling. A horde of emotions are battling it out in my head, each of them vying for dominance: anger, frustration, fear. The current winner: hopelessness. I've never felt so damn useless in my life. I'm trapped on this canoe, too scared to fight back and too dumb to figure out a way to escape. There's no way I'm a good enough swimmer to make it back to shore, and there's no way I can use any of my dad's self-defense tips in the confined space of the canoe. If I were Arnold Schwarzenegger, I would've already taken Owen out with the extra paddle, stolen his gun, and commandeered the canoe back to shore... but, unfortunately, I'm not the Terminator, and even if I did try to whack Owen with the paddle, I'm pretty sure that I'd miss and get killed in the process.

I'm not a hero. I'm not even that brave. And there's no way in hell that I can beat a guy armed with a gun. So I keep paddling. And paddling...

Until Owen waves his gun and me and says, "We're here."

Breathing hard, I set my paddle down on the rim of the canoe and wipe the sweat off my brow. I don't know where here is— my sense of direction tells me that we're near the center of the lake, but it's hard to tell with all the fog. I hope that Owen has done his research and isn't just leading me on some wild goose chase to an obscure place where he can dump my bullet-ridden body. That would suck. (Mark me down for dying painfully and idiotically.)

"Where are we?" I ask.

"Above the Kraken."

I glance over the edge of the boat. As far as I can tell, there's nothing but black water underneath us— no tentacles, no Kraken, no nothing. Still, the idea that some giant squid could be lurking underneath our flimsy canoe is more than creepy. Shuddering violently, I pull myself away from the edge and hug my arms tightly around my chest. Suddenly, Owen's gun seems a lot less scary— and the canoe a lot more vulnerable. I already saw one of the Kraken's tentacles, and that was just a small version. I'm sure that if it wanted to, the Kraken could crush the canoe and us in half without even breaking a sweat.

"You look nervous," Owen says, which has got to be the understatement of the year. "Why are you afraid of the Kraken? It's not going to harm you."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Of course. I'm only asking because I have a very important task for you to complete, and I don't want you freaking out and messing everything up. You know what happens if you mess up, right?"

"Let me take a wild guess. You shoot me and then throw my body overboard. Sound correct?"

The counselor smiles placidly at me. It's an empty smile, like a tree that's so rotted on the inside it became hollow, and it means absolutely nothing good. "Don't be so dramatic, Finn. I'm not going to kill you— not unless you make things difficult."

I inhale sharply. I can't remember the number of times the word difficult was written on my report card by exasperated teachers. Making things difficult is my specialty. It's the reason I was sent to this stupid camp in this first place. "W-what do you want me to do?"

"I think you already know what."

I gulp again, because I do know the answer, even though I wish to God that I didn't. "Oh," I say, in a small voice. "You want me to summon the Kraken for you."

Owen smiles at me again. His white teeth shine like a beacon through the fog. "Very good, Finn. I always knew you were smarter than you looked. As I'm sure you know, summoning the Kraken isn't going to be an easy task, but I've been observing the connection between you two for weeks and I'm confident it will come when you call it. I want you to summon the Kraken right here. Bring it to us. To me."

"I already told you, I don't know how to summon the Kraken, I don't remember how I did it last time. It just happened."

"Then I suggest you make it 'happen' again."

My mind beings to reel like a corrupted film. Does Owen really think I can summon the Kraken? If he does, he's in for a nasty surprise— and so am I, if he decides to shoot me. "Please, sir, just let me go," I implore. "I can't do this. I can't."

"Yes, you can do it, Finn! I know you can!"

I stare miserably out across the lake. I've never felt so freaked out, and yet so numb at the same time. Maybe I'm in shock. That's what happens when a crazy person points a gun at your head and kidnaps you, right— your brain just says "nope" and goes AWOL?

I'm trapped. Doomed. Owen is going to shoot me, and he's going to get away with it, too. I'll be one of those kids on the milk box cartons— everybody will think that I'm just missing, but in reality, I'll just be rotting at the bottom of the lake. My parents will never know what happened to me. My family, my friends... they'll never know the truth.

My death will be entirely for nothing.

"Finn," Owen says warningly. "Don't make me ask again."

"Please, you have to let me go. Please." I feel pretty pathetic begging Owen for my life like this, but words are all I have now. If I can't fight him and I can't escape him, the very least I can do is try to talk him out of murdering me. "I'm sorry, I really am, but I don't know how to summon the Kraken. Ask the Director, please, just ask the Director. She knows how to summon it. I know she does. She's probably better at it than me, too. I'm not lying, I swear, I only saw the Kraken once, I don't know how to summon it—"

Owen holds up his free hand and my words stumble to a halt. "I believe you, Finn. You probably weren't trying to summon the Kraken that first time. Still, you did summon it. Your intentions don't change that. And don't be silly— you know that I can't ask the Director to summon it for me. She won't summon the Kraken for anybody but herself."

"That's not true. She summoned it for Wolseley once."

"Who, the groundskeeper?" Owen rolls his eyes. "That man has the emotional range of a paperclip. He means nothing."

Yikes. I'm glad Wolseley isn't here to hear that burn— he'd probably start crying on the spot. "Either way, I'm sure that if you asked the Director for help she'd help you," I reason. "You need the Kraken, right? The Director will understand why. She's good at things like that. She'll summon it for you, I swear."

"I don't think the Director will be so understanding once I tell her what I need the Kraken for," Owen replies darkly. (Because of course he has to have some evil plan. Of course he does.) "That's why I need you."

"And what do you need the Kraken for?"

He flashes me a knowing smile. "You're stalling, Finn."

"If you're going to force me to summon the Kraken for you, I deserve to know why."

"Well, it's a very long story and I simply don't have the patience to tell it to you now. Besides, we're running out of time. Dinner ends in less than an hour and once it does, your friends will realize that you're missing and people will start searching for us. I need you to summon the Kraken now, Finn. No more questions. No more stalling. I might tell you the full story later, but until then, you should stop worrying about me and start focusing on how you're going to call the Kraken to us."

"I already told you, I don't know how—"

"I'm afraid that's just not an option." Owen smiles sadly, his finger tapping lightly against the trigger of the gun. "I told you before that I'd only hurt you if you made things difficult. I intend to keep that promise. In a moment, I'm going to ask you to summon the Kraken for me one last time, and if you don't— well, then I'm going to have to shoot you. I'm sorry. That's just the way things are."

Tears begin to brim in my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I'm not giving Owen the pleasure of seeing that he's defeated me. So I press my hand against my forehead and squeeze my eyes shut, forcing the tears away with sheer willpower. At least my death will make for a pretty epic obituary...

"One last time, Finn. Summon the Kraken for me. Now."

The world feels so much smaller now. Everything has been narrowed down to just Owen, me, and the gun. There's no escape from this. Escape was never an option. When I close my eyes, the gun is still there, waiting. Waiting for me.

Slowly, I crack my eyelids open and lower my hand away from my face. My mind is made up— Owen can threaten to kill me all he wants, but I'm not going out without a fight.

"I'm only going to tell you this one more time," I say. My voice is admirably steady, and it boosts what little confidence I have left. "I don't know jackshit about the Kraken. I don't how to summon it, and even if I did, I wouldn't summon it for you."

Owen flushes pink. "Just try, goddammit!" he bellows, but I don't let myself flinch away. "God! You teenagers are so whiny. I thought I'd go crazy working at this camp— all any of you ever do is complain! 'I can't do it'! 'It's too hard'! You're all so pathetic. If I hear one more complaint come out of your mouth, it'll be the last thing you ever say!

"You thought this camp would make you crazy?" Maybe I'm losing my mind too, because I actually laugh in his face. "You're already crazy! You're insane!"

"Runs in the family, I guess," Owen snaps. "Good thing, too. I'm just about crazy enough to kill you right now." He cocks the gun and points it at my head.

On instinct, my arms fly up to protect my face. "Whoa, whoa, whoa!" I cry. "You can't kill me— you need me! I'm the only person at camp that can summon the Kraken for you!"

"I'll shoot you somewhere non-lethal, then." He aims the barrel of the gun at my knee.

"Jesus Christ, man! Just chill out for a sec!" I scramble backward, nearly falling off the bench. The canoe rocks sickeningly. "Let's be logical here. Obviously, I can't summon the Kraken if I'm bleeding out. I also can't summon the Kraken if I'm in pain. Summoning is a hard enough job already, so I'm going to need to be totally focused— which means no hurting me. At all. And especially not in the knee!"

Owen tilts his head to the side, thinking. "You know, you have a point. I can't expect you to summon the Kraken under so much pressure." He starts to lower the gun. "So, I won't shoot you. I'll paddle back to camp and kill your friends instead."

"No!" Horror crashes through my body like a tidal wave. "No, you can't!"

"I can, actually. You said it yourself— I'm crazy. Totally unhinged. Crazy enough to kill a few innocent kids to get what I want. I won't stop, Finn. Not until you bring the Kraken to me. Do that, and I'll let you go— you and your friends."

I look down at the black water of the lake. My reflection, pale, terrified, stares back at me with wide eyes. Faces ripple in the waves next to it; faces that belong to Becca and Ronan. Blood-splattered faces. Dead, because of me.

"No," I whisper.

"It's time for you to make a choice, Finn. You can kill yourself and your friends or you can summon the Kraken for me. Choose. It's up to you."