Chapter 66: Ronan

"Ronan, where the hell is Finn?"


There's a forkful of mediocre baked beans halfway to my mouth when I look up and see Becca hovering over me, her eyes scrunched with worry and her lips drawn together in a thin line. For a second, I'm thinking oh shit, she's breaking up with him, until I realize that she looks more distressed than angry, and also that I haven't seen Finn at dinner yet, which is definitely weird considering I've never known him to miss a meal.


Becca shoves me hard in the shoulder. It's not a violent gesture, but a desperate one. "You have a mouth, don't you? Why don't you use it to tell me where your roommate is?"


"How would I know where Finn is? It's not like I've got him chipped." This definitely isn't the answer Becca was looking for, because her eyes get even more squinty and she's looking at my fork like she wants to use it to stab me in the throat. Murderous Becca is definitely not one of my favorite Beccas, so I add, "I'm sorry, I've got no idea. I'm not his keeper."


"Someone has to be."


I shrug and lift the fork further towards my mouth. Becca slaps it away, sending baked beans flying through the air.


A glob of beans smacks Jasper in the forehead. "Hey!" he exclaims. "What was that for?"


Giselle shoots Becca a look that says watch it. "What the big deal, Fisher?" she asks, handing Jasper her napkin to wipe away the goop. "Are you and Finn breaking up or something? Please say no. You have so many anger issues already."


Ignoring her remark, Becca grabs my wrist and drags me away from the table, hissing, "This is not a time to be witty or funny or whatever you think you are, Ronan Lockwood. Finn— your roommate— is in danger, and we need to find him."


"And you know this how?"


"I know this because I know things." Becca tugs more firmly on my wrist, propelling us towards the side exit that leads to Beckarof Cabin. I can't see why Finn would be at the cabin, but I don't know where else he would go if he was skipping dinner. "Come on. Owen knows about the Kraken, and if we don't get to Finn before he does, we're going to be in some real deep shit."


"Wait— Owen knows? I thought we all agreed he didn't see Finn summon it—" I stop walking. Becca fixes me with a stare that would be menacing if she didn't look so worried and tightens her grip on my arm. "Uh, Becca? There's something you should know. Earlier today, Finn told me that Owen asked him to meet him by the lake at sunset. I told him that he should go so that we could try to get some information on what's going on at camp."


Her mouth widens into a perfect O. I realize that I've never seen Becca Fisher looked scared before, and dread seeps into my chest. "Shit. Did I just send Finn to talk with the most dangerous person at camp, alone?"


Becca drops my arm. "We have to get to the lake. Now!"


I move to open the door, but before I can even get a toe into the outside world, a wall of blue rushes forward to stop me.


"And where exactly do you two think you're going?" demands Karen, glowering down at us menacingly. "If you think it's okay to sneak off during dinner, think again."


"But I've already eaten my protein," I say.


She narrows her steely-blue eyes at me. "That's a mark for sass, Lockwood. And another mark if you try to step out this door again. Fisher, that goes for you too. Now, I want both of you to head back to your tables, or I'll have you scrubbing dirty dishes tonight."


Becca opens her mouth like she's about to protest, but I grab her by the shirt-sleeve and yank her away from the counselor. "Good choice," Karen says, before pivoting around to bark orders at a poor camper trying to steal seconds from the pathetic, melting excuse of a sundae bar. I wonder if she knows her secret boyfriend is actually a psychotic kidnapper. 


"What the fuck was that?" Becca hisses as I drag her back to the table. "We totally had a chance to slip past her! This isn't the time for following the rules— we need to save Finn!"


"I've been breaking camp rules since day one. Trust me, I don't plan to stop now," I say, forcing my way through the gauntlet of toppled chairs, scattered dirty napkins, and a puddle of either ketchup or blood. It takes a bit of swearing and elbowing, but finally, I make my way over to a bespectacled camper eagerly stuffing his mouth with unsalted fries.


I tap him on the shoulder and he swivels around to face me, a smudge of mustard glaring at me from his peach-fuzz chin. "The fuck do you want?" Levi demands.


"For you not to ask any more questions. Now, listen carefully— I need you to cause a scene. One that will distract the counselors away from the exits."


"You want me to recite Shakespeare?" he asks skeptically.


"Quote Macbeth, reenact Juliet's death— I don't care. Do whatever the fuck you want, just make sure you get Karen's attention."


"Well, if you wanted me to show off my acting skills, you could've just asked."


"I did ask you—"


Levi cuts me off with a winning smile. "Say no more, man. I've got you covered." He whips a slip of fabric out of his pocket, gives his glasses a quick polish, then hops on top of the table with the nimble grace of an acrobatic thespian. "You know, you're not half bad, Lockwood."


"Thanks, Levi. You're not the absolute worst either."


This makes his chest swell with pride. "Eat your heart out, Shakespeare," he mutters, before continuing in a bellowing voice that nearly rattles the light fixtures, "Hear it not, Duncan, for it is a knell, that summons thee to heaven, or to hell!"


Becca kicks me in the ankle so forcibly I let out a small yelp. "Really? This is your oh-so-clever plan? Performing arts? Finn's life is at stake!"


"Jesus, do your boots come with extra spikes?"


She tries to kick me again, but this time, I'm ready to dodge. "I'm not fucking around, Ronan. If this doesn't work, I'm sacrificing you to the counselors."


"It's going to work. My plans always work. Look— Karen is already coming over here!"


"Then why the hell are we still standing around? Let's go!"


This time, it's Becca who grabs me by the shirt-sleeve. We make a crazed break for the exit, slipping straight past a red-faced Karen, her exasperated shouts drowned out by the booming sound of Levi's show-stopping soliloquy.


***


Becca gazes out across the lake, scanning for a head of curly, red hair, or maybe the milky skin of a counselor gone astray. The water is like a sheet of obsidian; black, still, glassy. "This place is deserted. There's nobody on the beach. Nobody on the docks, either. And I can't see anything through the fog."


"Fucking hell. Are we too late?"


Becca speed-walks over to the waterline. I follow her. "There," she says. She points to a rut in the black sand. "They took a canoe."


An uneasy feeling starts to creep through me. I look out towards the center of the lake, searching for a glimpse of two people in a canoe, but I can't see anything through the thick veil of fog. All I know is that Finn is out there, somewhere, and Owen is with him. "Okay." This is starting to freak me out. Sneaking past Karen was all fun and games, but there's nothing entertaining about tracking down a potential abductor. "What the hell is going on?"


Becca grimaces and massages her forehead. "I'm... not sure yet. All I know is that we need to get to the center of the lake."


"And how are we supposed to do that? Swim?"


Her gaze drifts across the beach. I follow it to the docks, where I see two white motorboats floating idly side by side. "Jesus Christ. You've got to be joking."


"It's the only way, Ronan."


"You want to steal a fucking motorboat?"


"We'll give it back when we're done. That's borrowing, not stealing."


"For some reason, I doubt the Director will give two fucks about semantics when she finds out we've been joyriding her favorite boat. As much as I want to rescue your delightful boyfriend, I'm not about to get myself kicked out of camp for stealing a mode of transportation, again."


"Fine, then. Don't come." Without further ado, Becca stalks off towards the boats, the determination in her step telling me there's nothing I can do to slow her down. Shouting over her shoulder, she tells me, "Finn is in trouble and I'm not just going to sit here and watch everything go to hell. I'm borrowing this motorboat whether you like it or not, so you can come with me, or you can snitch to the Director. I could really care less."


"Fuck. Fuck!" I can't just let her go after Finn alone, and I'm not snitching to the Director, so I decide to chase after her. Black rocks crunch under my sneakers as I run. "Don't be unreasonable, Becca. I'm coming with you. But how the hell do you know all this?"


"I just am, Ronan! Psychic, remember? I know things and I see things that nobody else does. And right now I know and I see that Finn is about to get hurt. Really bad. And if we don't go help him we might as well be the ones hurting him."


We've reached the docks. Becca grabs one of the wooden pillars and swings herself onto the platform. After she regains her balance, she sticks a hand out for me to grab.


I swing myself up after her and plant my feet firmly on the splintering planks. "I'm a big fan of the mystic arts, but you're gonna need to give me a little more proof than some 'I'm a psychic' crap. I'm not about to put my future in jeopardy— again— for nothing."


Becca's chest heaves as she takes a deep, shaky breath. "I don't have any proof. You're going to have to trust me."


I purse my lips at her.


"Please," she says. "I can't do this without you."


"Becca—"


"Please."


I sigh. Loudly. "Alright," I say, cringing a little as I realize this is the word that's finally going to cut me off from the Lockwood family fortune. "Alright. I'll trust you, for now. Just tell me one thing: how do you expect to steal a motorboat?"


Becca pulls a pair of keys out of her pocket and raises them in the air. "With these."

Comment