Distress Signal Read online

  Lavender pulled the radio from the front of her backpack. A few hair ties, a folded-up paper, and a granola bar fell out on the seat between her and John. Before Lavender could pick up any of it, John shoved everything in her direction.

  “Keep your stuff on your half of the bench,” the world’s worst seat buddy said.

  Annoyed, Lavender pushed her debris back toward the middle. “This is my half,” she said.

  “No, this is my side.” He brushed it all with his hand, sending a hair tie and the paper scrap toward the floor.

  “What’s your problem?” Lavender asked.

  “What’s yours?”

  “Pick one. I’ve only got about a million of them.”

  John looked up with a startled expression. “Like what?”

  As much as Lavender wanted to let her friend troubles spill out, John just didn’t seem like he would make a sympathetic ear. She swallowed it back. “You know,” she said. “Um, the missing money. All the work we did to organize everything and fundraise, and we still don’t get our telescope.”

  “That’s it? If not having a telescope is your biggest problem, then you’re fine.”

  “Really?” Lavender asked. “What’s your problem?”

  He looked at her, and for a second, Lavender thought he might actually be about to tell her something. Was there a reason he was acting so awful? Then he said, “Nothing. I just wanted to sit alone.”

  He went back to pretending to sleep. Confused and upset, Lavender picked up her handheld radio. As she tried to puzzle out his behavior, Lavender switched it on and off. On. Off. On. Off.

  John had been in her class for years. They didn’t hang out a lot or even interact all that much, but he used to be a really nice guy. He never said mean things or picked on other kids. He was smart and athletic and laid-back about most things. She’d even had a crush on him for about a week when they were in fourth grade.

  Usually, John played basketball every afternoon with his two best friends, Kyle and Jeffrey. Now Jeffrey and Kyle were sitting at the other end of the bus, while John had transformed into some species of moody hermit crab, hiding in his hoodie for hours at a time.

  Maybe he was having friend problems, too.

  Lavender started tuning through the frequencies on her radio absently. What would happen once they got to science camp? Would Marisol talk to her at all?

  A long, steady beep interrupted her depressing thoughts. Lavender paused on that frequency and put the radio close to her ear.

  “The National Weather Service has issued a watch for eastern Cochise County in southern Arizona. Flash flooding may occur. The flooding is caused by heavy rains occurring ten or more miles away. If flooding is observed, move up to higher ground to escape floodwaters, and report to the nearest law authorities. Repeating: A flash flood watch has been issued to eastern Cochise County until 10:20 a.m. Mountain Standard Time today.”

  Lavender flicked past the frequency. She had spent her entire life listening to warnings about thunderstorms and dust storms and flash floods. Nothing dramatic ever happened. Phoenix got a monsoon every July and August, but in spite of the warnings on the car radio or her mom’s phone, Lavender had never even seen a flash flood.

  A shriek of laughter made Lavender look up from the handheld. She peeked over the top of the bus seat. Rachelle and Marisol were shooting their matching pink scrunchies at the guys across from them, and Jeffrey and Kyle were shooting them back.

  The difference between them and the hermit crab that Lavender was stuck with couldn’t have been more extreme.

  One miserable bus ride later, the sixth-grade class of Wellson Elementary arrived at their campsite, unloaded the bus, and set up their tents. That’s when the newest disaster struck: Mrs. Henderson “randomly” assigned Marisol and Rachelle to a tent, while Lavender got stuck with Sarah, who was nice enough when she wasn’t crying. And when Lavender tried to correct the situation, the other teacher chaperone, Mr. Gonzales, shushed her and said it was time for a group talk from some man who introduced himself as Mr. Bob. Lavender wasn’t sure exactly who he was—a campground host or volunteer or something like that. All she knew for certain was that the chaperones expected her to listen to Mr. Bob while he stood on the picnic table and tried to scare the entire class to death.

  “So if you do get bitten by a rattlesnake,” Mr. Bob was saying, “do not tie off the wound. A tourniquet will only keep the poison in one place, and you’ll die. You can try to sit or lay down so the bite is below the level of your heart, but you’ll probably still die. Your best plan is to not get bitten. If you are bitten by a rattler, start praying and hope to God you get to a hospital in time.”

  Lavender shuffled her feet and scanned the ground for any sign of snakes. Yep, she was definitely going to radio her dad and tell him to bring her home. No way was she going to stay out here for three whole days, sharing a tent with Sarah and dodging rattlesnakes like Rachelle. Marisol had clearly been poisoned already. There was no telling who might be next.

  From his exalted position on a picnic table, Mr. Bob hitched his khaki pants higher over his gut. Lavender couldn’t see his eyes behind his reflective sunglasses.

  “Now, I’ve already told you: No food in the tents, and I showed you how to use the garbage and food storage bins. And why is this so important?

  “You there. In the red sweatshirt.” Mr. Bob jabbed a finger toward John, who was not volunteering. Lavender waited for the hermit crab to pull his hood back over his face and refuse to answer. To her surprise, he replied.

  “Food will attract wild animals.”

  “That’s right. Dangerous wild animals, such as?”

  “Rattlesnakes!” the girl standing closest to Lavender shrieked. Sarah was the most nervous person that Lavender had ever met.

  Mr. Bob spat in the dirt. “Nope. Unless you’re eating mice for dinner. You don’t really lock up the food for the snakes.” Mr. Bob pointed to John again. “Red sweatshirt, you got an answer?”

  “Bears, maybe.”

  Mr. Bob nodded. He looked over at the teachers and gestured toward John. “You got one smart kid in the bunch.”

  Lavender bristled. How dare he say there was only one smart kid in the class! Without thinking it through, she thrust her hand in the air.

  “Yes, ma’am?” Mr. Bob pointed at her.

  “Food in the tents could attract …” Lavender tried to come up with a good response. Outside of books and short hikes at South Mountain, she didn’t have all that much experience with the outdoors. Lavender knew way more about electronics and astronomy and scientific theory than she knew about camping. Still, she’d grown up in Arizona. She could think of something and show Mr. Bob that there was more than one smart kid in this class. “Um, squirrels and, uh, skunks, or raccoons.”

  Were there even raccoons in Arizona? Lavender thought frantically. She hadn’t ever seen one in her home state, but didn’t those things live everywhere? Like cockroaches or pigeons? Either way, she was committed now.

  Mr. Bob scratched his belly. “Those are pesky critters, for sure. And you don’t want them swarming your camp, but I was asking about dangerous animals.”

  “What if they have rabies?” Lavender asked, feeling smug, because she was sure of herself with this answer.

  “You’re jumping ahead in my talk, little lady. We’ll get to the rabies part later.” Now he sounded annoyed, and he wasn’t the only one.

  As she lowered her hand, Lavender heard Rachelle’s exasperated sigh. “She always has to be right, doesn’t she?”

  Marisol nodded.

  Mr. Bob continued, but Lavender had stopped listening. Not by choice. It was like her ears were suddenly tuned to a different frequency and she couldn’t focus on anything Mr. Bob said. Marisol had actually agreed with Rachelle. That hurt.

  It wasn’t true. Lavender didn’t always have to be right. She didn’t! She was positive she didn’t act like that. Marisol never would have agreed until … until …

&
nbsp; Until Rachelle.

  This was all Rachelle’s fault. Somehow Rachelle had gotten her fangs into Marisol. It probably happened after Mrs. Henderson put them next to each other on her seating chart. At the time she hadn’t thought anything of it, but Lavender could vividly remember Marisol saying that she and Rachelle both liked painting nails and the same music and bubble tea.

  Manicures were boring and boba was nasty.

  Rachelle was brainwashing Marisol.

  Lavender had to remind Marisol who she was and who her real friends were. It was up to Lavender to save her.

  “So if you cannot make it to a secure location,” Mr. Bob was saying, “and the bear does attack, you fight viciously.” Mr. Bob’s speech continued in a river of incomprehensible words about throwing rocks and sticks, and giving javelinas—wild pigs—their space, and something about scorpions that Lavender didn’t really register.

  But in spite of all that, Rachelle was definitely the most dangerous creature in this wilderness. Too bad Lavender couldn’t just deal with Rachelle like a wild animal. She would have loved to try throwing rocks and yelling at Rachelle.

  Anything to get her friend back …

  “Line up, line up!” Mrs. Henderson shouted. Lavender sat on the campsite picnic bench, staring off into the rocks and mountains that surrounded their campsite. She was trying to think of the best way to get Rachelle away from Marisol. She had to separate them and, somehow, provoke Rachelle just enough to show her true colors.

  The other sixth graders swarmed around Lavender. They were scattered across the campsite, hanging out between tents, tossing a football near the picnic benches, climbing on the boulders near the road, and standing on the huge metal food storage boxes on the edge of the site.

  “Get down! You’re not supposed to climb on those,” Mrs. Henderson yelled at three students to get off the food storage. “If you want to hike today, line up now.”

  As the class gathered around the teacher, Lavender twisted a strap on her backpack, wondering if she could pull off some kind of prank on Rachelle.

  “Okay, has everyone used the bathroom? Does everyone have their suntan lotion, water, and snacks?”

  Lavender nodded, but half the class shook their heads.

  Mrs. Henderson groaned. “You have five minutes, and then line up here.” She pointed to a spot near the road. “Go on.”

  Since Lavender had already gone to the bathroom and packed her bag, she stood where Mrs. Henderson had pointed. From her spot, she could hear the two teachers talking.

  “Are you sure we should hike today?” Mr. Gonzales asked.

  Mrs. Henderson nodded. “Look at these kids. They need to get their energy out, and the weather watch ended hours ago. I’m sure it’s fine. There’s almost never rain this time of year.”

  Mr. Gonzales nodded.

  Lavender glanced up at the sky. It was blue and clear overhead.

  Maybe she could lock Rachelle in an outhouse. Or “accidentally” drop her scrunchie in the fire. Or put a bug in her sleeping bag. Or trick her into thinking there was a mountain lion outside her tent … Any of those things would bring out the worst in her, letting Marisol see how awful Rachelle really was.

  Footsteps crunching over gravel made Lavender turn around. Rachelle and the scrunchie-war guys were returning from the outhouses. They lined up a couple of feet behind Lavender.

  “Are you in for capture the flag?” Kyle was asking.

  “Yeah, I guess,” said Rachelle.

  “Awesome,” Jeffrey said. “And you know what else we should do? We should play sardines.”

  “Sardines?” said Rachelle. “That sounds kind of childish. I haven’t played that since, like, third grade.”

  “We played it at camp last summer,” said Kyle. “It’s so fun in the woods. Trust me. It’s way better in a place like this. If we wait until dark, it’ll be really creepy.”

  “And I’ll get more people to join in,” Jeffrey added. “The more you have, the more exciting it is.”

  “Well, I guess I’m in … if you guys are,” said Rachelle.

  “Where’s Marisol? Is she gonna play, too?” Jeffrey asked.

  “She’s still waiting to fill her water bottle,” said Rachelle. “But she’s definitely in.”

  Sardines. That sounded perfect. As the class began to walk, an idea took shape in Lavender’s brain: a flawless way to deal with a dangerous creature like Rachelle. They just had to get back from the hike and then Lavender would trick Rachelle into thinking it was game time … and everyone would see Rachelle for exactly who she was.

  The class followed Mr. Gonzales down a dirt path. Mrs. Henderson went to the back of the group and the parent chaperones walked in the middle. At first, the landscape wasn’t that different from the campground, but the longer they walked, the more it changed, growing more spectacular with every step farther into the wilderness.

  They paused once they reached an overlook. As far as Lavender could see, there were huge rock spires. They looked like massive boulders stacked on top of one another, so high that they nearly scraped the sky.

  While the class took in the scenery, Lavender watched Mr. Gonzales and Mrs. Henderson hold a furious, whispered conversation. Each teacher pointed in a different direction. Intrigued, Lavender inched closer, trying to make out what they said, when Amy Wright tapped her on the shoulder.

  She held her phone out to Lavender, and for a hopeful moment, Lavender thought Amy wanted to take a selfie with her.

  “Will you take our picture?” Amy said, gesturing to Sarah, who stood nearby. After Lavender snapped a few pictures for them, the two started taking goofy selfies. Most of Lavender’s classmates were also taking pictures of the rocks and themselves with the rocks in the background. Even John had emerged from the depths of his hoodie to pose with Kyle and Jeffrey.

  No one invited Lavender to be in a picture.

  Just then, she would have given the most expensive Icom mobile transceiver that money could buy to grab her friend and capture the moment like everyone else. Usually, she was in all of Marisol’s pictures, but Marisol was taking pictures with Rachelle, and she hadn’t even looked in Lavender’s direction.

  Longing to look as busy and important as the rest of her class, Lavender started fiddling with her radio again. With a click she turned it on. There was only fuzz.

  Click, she changed frequencies.

  Fuzz.

  Click.

  Fuzz.

  Click.

  “The National Weather Service has issued a warning for eastern Cochise County in southern Arizona until 5:30 p.m. Mountain Standard Time.” She’d landed on the same frequency as before. “Flash flooding was observed in the area at 3:07 p.m. The flooding is caused by heavy rains occurring miles away. This excess of rainfall will cause flash flooding to occur in eastern Cochise County, Arizona. If flooding is observed, move to higher ground to escape floodwaters. If flooding is observed, report to the nearest law authorities. Repeating: A flash flood warning has been issued to eastern Cochise County until 5:30 p.m. Mountain Standard Time today.”

  Lavender searched the sky. It still stretched blue in almost every direction. On the distant horizon, she could see a few dark clouds, but that had to be really far away … Still, Lavender thought maybe should say something to one of the chaperones about the warning, since the National Weather Service had changed the time of the possible flooding from the original announcement that she’d heard earlier on the bus. As she edged closer to the teachers, Rachelle suddenly pointed at her, calling out, “What is that?”

  Lavender whirled, expecting to see a snake or a bear or, at the very least, a skunk. There was nothing behind her.

  “No, what are you holding?” Rachelle asked. “Is that some kind of phone for dinosaurs?”

  “It’s called a ham radio,” Lavender said, shooting a look at Marisol, hoping she would speak up. After all, Marisol had been really excited for Lavender when she passed her test and got the license required for any
one who wanted to be an amateur radio operator. Lavender had even convinced Marisol to try and get her license, too. Once Marisol passed the test, they were going to talk over their radios and do contests together.

  Marisol didn’t say anything.

  Rachelle laughed. “A ham radio? That’s perfect.”

  “What?” Lavender didn’t get the joke.

  “’Cause you’re an attention hog. Ham. Hog. Get it?” Rachelle asked Marisol. When Marisol still didn’t answer, Rachelle spoke again. “What? Don’t look at me like that. You said it yourself. After the concert.”

  “Did you really say that?” Lavender whispered. An ache grew in her stomach.

  Rachelle snorted. “Oink, oink.”

  All thoughts of the weather warning forgotten, Lavender snapped the radio off. She tried to think of something to hurt Rachelle the way she was hurting. “Yeah, well. Well, you’re short. You’re so short Castles N’ Coasters won’t even let you on the big-kid rides.”

  Rachelle crossed her arms and scowled. “Oh yeah, your—”

  But her retort was interrupted by Mr. Gonzales, calling out, “This way, everybody!”

  He and Mrs. Henderson started herding the class downhill. Lavender stood there still tingling with shock and anger as Marisol took off, followed immediately by Rachelle. Lavender trailed behind them.

  She couldn’t wait to get back to camp and get even with Rachelle. She was so distracted, imagining how Rachelle would react to the prank, that Lavender barely noticed that the sandy slope they’d been following was getting wider and wider. Steep hillsides dotted with boulders rose on either side of them. Lavender had no idea how long they’d walked before Mr. Gonzales came to a complete and sudden stop.

  He looked all around in every direction, and then he said, “Let’s stop for a minute. I think we’re lost.”

  Lost? What else could go wrong?

  Lavender should have turned off her alarm clock, refused to get out of bed, and skipped science camp. Now she knew. When she grew up and became an astrophysicist, Lavender was going to invent a time machine, go back to kindergarten, and tell her five-year-old self, “Don’t waste years of your life looking forward to science camp. It’s the worst.”