’D LIKE TO take a minute to point out that under water, humans need fins, a mask, a tank of compressed air, and a regulator to breathe from. Up in the air, I needed nothing. What does that tell you?

I was not meant to be under water .

It took almost eight minutes for me, Fang, Dr. Akana, and John to get set up in scuba gear. It felt more like a month. But finally I was holding my mask against my face and falling backward over the side of the boat, feeling the weight belt and heavy scuba tank pulling me beneath the surface.

Three more splashes and then our gang of four did a 360, hoping against hope that Angel had lingered in the area.

How much do you wanna bet that she did, and that we spotted her right away, and that she agreed to stay with us nicely while we looked around under water?

Didn’t think so. That mouthy six-, I meanseven -year-old—with a will of iron and all the calm reasoning power of your average rabid squirrel. Between that and her occasional bids to become the flock leader, she—was cruisin’ for a bruisin’.

John and Dr. Akana pointed off into the distance and started to swim in that direction. Fang and I followed, because we sure didn’t have any other options. Ahead of us were hills of coral or rock or something and a zillion fish swimming in and around and darting in and out of shallow cavelike places. Dr. Akana had told us that there were some volcanic caves in the waters around Hawaii, and I guessed that was what we were looking at.

But no Angel and not even a trail of bubbles to follow. We were all carrying powerful flashlights and now shone them into the caves, watching as fish startled over and over again. We saw lobsters, too many different kinds of fish to identify, corals, sponges, a couple of moray eels poking their heads out of their holes. But no Angel.

I was starting to get really mad, and this tank on my back made me feel awkward. The fact was, when it was just the six of us, Angel really listened to me and wanted to stay close by me. Now that we were surrounded by grown-ups who were giving us food and taking us on adventures, Angel didn’t seem to need me as much. It hurt.

I flicked my light around a cave, saw nothing bird-kid-like, and started to back out. I glanced around for the others… and realized I was totally alone.

And way, way deep inside a cave.

I’d been caught up in my musings and had not seen the group moving off somewhere else. Backpedaling quickly, I looked right and left, searching the dark water for flashlight beams. I couldn’t see anything. I couldn’t even see the cave entrance. I must have wandered in there and gone around corners without realizing it.

Crap.

I deliberately slowed my breathing and tried to calm down. I got into this cave; I could get out. I had enough air in my tank for about half an hour, I thought. I’ve been in worse situations. I just needed to settle down and backtrack.

Of course, backtracking works best when there are footprints to follow, or when the terrain has landmarks and is therefore recognizable. It does not work when the only trail is bubbles, and every single rotten cave wall looks exactly like everyother single rotten freaking cave wall, and there are only surprised fish to ask for directions and—oops!—I’m not a freaking telepath!!!

An underwater scream isso much less satisfying and effective when it is done into a regulator, I discovered.

Picturing Fang recovering my drowned body, I swam carefully back in the direction I thought I had come from. None of it looked familiar, and none of itdidn’t look familiar.

It all looked the same.

There was no light coming from anywhere, no sign of my fellow divers. I pictured my funeral, saw Nudge choking back sobs as she threw flowers on my coffin. My throat closed, and tears welled up in my eyes, whichmade my mask fog up .

I swore loudly into my regulator and cleared my mask the way I’d been taught. When I could see, I again tried to steady my breathing and take stock of where I was.

That’s when I realized that I was looking ahead at two caves, where a branch veered off. Had I traveled down one of the branches, or had I come from somewhere behind me—should I turn around?

Let me rephrase that question: If my life were a corny horror movie, and the heroine was lost and alone, trapped in an underwater cave, what would happen next?

If you guessed, “She drops her flashlight, and it hits a rock and breaks, leaving her in utter darkness,” you would be right.

But I bet you didn’t guess the part about an attack by a giant octopus.