Lost in Babylon. Peter Lerangis
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you.”
In the distance an animal roared. Birds flew frantically overhead, and a series of crazy, high-pitched screeches pierced the air. This place was giving me the creeps. “Tell us on the other side,” I said, heading back down.
Aly, Cass, and I bolted for the river. It was three against one.
“Wusses. All of you,” Marco said. And with a disgusted sigh, he followed us back in to the river.
It was Aly’s voice. That much I knew. And I had a vague idea why she was sounding so dorky.
I tried to open my eyes but the sun was searing hot. My muscles ached and my clothes were still wet. I blinked and forced myself to squint upward. Marco, Aly, and Cass were leaning over me, panting and wet. Behind them, the cliff rose into the harsh, unforgiving sun.
“Don’t tell me,” I said. “It’s a line from a movie.”
Aly beamed. “Sorry. I can’t help it. I’m so relieved. The original Frankenstein. Colin Clive.”
“Welcome to the living,” Marco said, helping me up off the sand. “The original Seven Wonders Story. Marco Ramsay.”
The landscape whirled as I struggled upward. I looked warily up the slope. “What happened to Ali Baba and the camels?”
“Gone,” Marco replied, his eyes dancing with excitement. “We are back to the same spot where we left in the first place. And are you noticing something else? Look around. Look closely.”
I saw the worn path to the top of the ridge. I saw the gray river, placid under the rising sun. “Wait,” I said. “When we left, the sun was almost over our heads. Now it’s lower.”
“Bingo!” Marco said.
“From Bingo,” Cass murmured. “Starring Bingo.”
“Meaning what, Marco?” Aly said. “I’m supposed to be the smart one. What do you understand that I don’t?”
“Hey!” A distant, high-pitched voice made us all turn sharply. Nirvana was sprinting up the beach in loud Hawaiian shorts, a KISS T-shirt, and aviator sunglasses. “Oh … my … Gandalf!” she screamed. “Where have you guys been?”
Marco spun around. “Underwater. ’Sup, Dawg? Where’s Bhegad?”
Nirvana slapped him in the face, hard.
“Ow,” Marco said. “Happy to see you, too.”
“We thought you were dead!” Nirvana replied. “After you jumped? I nearly had a heart attack! Bhegad and Fiddle and the Hulk—they’re all in each other’s faces. ‘How could you let this happen?’ ‘How could you?’ ‘How could you?’ Blah blah blah. Fiddle’s insisting we call nine-one-one, Bhegad says we can’t, Torquin’s just going postal, and I’m Will you guys just take a pill? So we all jump in the river to look for you, except for Bhegad, who’s so mad he’s practically doing wheelies. Finally we give up. All we can do is wait. Soon we assume you all drowned. Torquin is crying. Yes, tears from a stone. It does happen. Fiddle is like, ‘Time to break up the KI and look for a new job!’ Bhegad insists we set up camp. Maybe you’ll come back. Or we’ll find the bodies. So we’ve been sitting here for two days eating beef jerky and—”
“Wait,” I said, sitting up. “Two days?”
“Torquin was crying?” Cass said.
Over Nirvana’s shoulder, I could see Fiddle pushing Professor Bhegad toward us. Torquin was waddling along beside them, his beefy face twisted into a pained expression that looked like indigestion but probably was concern. About twenty feet behind them was a camp-type setup—three big tents, a grill, and a few boxes of supplies.
When had they set that up?
“By the Great Qalani!” the old man cried, holding his arms wide. “You’re—okay!”
No one of us knew quite what to do. Professor Bhegad wasn’t exactly a huggy kind of guy. So I stuck out my hand. He shook it so hard I thought my fingers would fall off. “What happened?” he asked, his eyes darting toward Marco. “If I weren’t so relieved, I’d be furious!”
Marco’s face was flushed. He blinked his eyes. “My bad, P. Beg … shouldn’t have run off like that … whoa … spins … mind if I sit? I think I swallowed too much river water.”
“Torquin, bring him to the tent. Now!” Bhegad snapped. “Summon every doctor we have.”
Marco frowned, drawing himself up to full height with a cocky smile. “Hey, don’t get your knickers in a twist, P. Beg. I’m good.”
But he didn’t look good. His color was way off. I glanced at Aly, but she was intent on her watch. “Um, guys? What time is it? And what day?”
Fiddle gave her a curious look, then checked his watch. “Ten-forty-two A.M. Saturday.”
“My watch says six thirty-nine, Thursday,” Aly said.
“We fix,” Torquin said. “Busted watches a KI specialty.”
“It’s still working, and it’s waterproof,” Aly said. “Look, the second hand is moving. We left at 6:02, our time here in Iraq, and we were back by 6:29. Exactly twenty-seven minutes by my watch. But here—actually in this place—almost two days passed for you!”
“One day and sixteen hours, and forty minutes,” Cass said. “Well, maybe sixteen and a half, if you count discussion time before we actually dove.”
“Aly, this does not make sense,” I said.
“And anything else about this adventure does?” Aly’s face was pale, her eyes focused on Professor Bhegad.
But the professor was rolling forward, intent on Marco. “Did no one hear me?” he said. “Bring that child to the tent, Torquin—now!”
Marco waved Torquin away. But he was staggering backward. His smile abruptly dropped.
And then, so did his body.
As we watched in horror, Marco thumped to the sand, writhing in agony.
His eyes flickered. Professor Bhegad exhaled with relief. Behind him, Fiddle let out a whoop of joy. “You are a strong boy,” Bhegad said. “I wasn’t sure the treatment would take.”
“I didn’t think I needed treatments,” Marco replied. A rueful smile creased his face as he looked up at Aly, Cass, and me. “So much for Marco the Immortal.”
Cass leaned down and gave him a hug. “Brother M, we like you just the way you are.”
“Sounds like a song,” said Nirvana, who was clutching Fiddle’s and Torquin’s arms.
I glanced at Aly and noticed she was tearing up. I sidled close to her. I kind of wanted to put my arm around her, but I wasn’t