Lost Cipher Read Online Free PDF Page A

places?” he asked. “It’s like sandpaper. I went to a summer camp a couple years ago. You think the poison ivy and the bees and the rain are bad? I swear, the toilet paper in these places will give you a diaper rash so bad, it’s like you’ve been eating Mexican food for a…”
    The new kid stopped and studied Alex. “I mean, no offense.”
    â€œHe ain’t Mexican. He’s Salva…salva-somethin’.” Lucas chimed in.
    â€œAmerican.” Alex shot Lucas a hard look. “Jeez.”
    â€œYeah, American. That’s what I meant.”
    â€œSure.” Alex rolled his eyes. “What’s your name?” he asked the new kid.
    â€œGeorge. Funderburk,” he replied.
    â€œI’m Alex Cruz. This is Lucas Whitlatch.”
    â€œCruz and Whiplash?” laughed George. “Sounds like some kind of cop show or something. Me, I usually get ‘Thunderbutt’ or ‘Thunderburp’ or something, but Cruz and Whiplash, that’s pretty cool.”
    â€œNaw, it’s Whit— latch. Like on a gate,” said Lucas. “Hey, how’d you even get here? How come we didn’t hear no car drive up?”
    â€œMy dad’s idea,” replied George. “He dropped me off at the office. Said I could get in some practice with the pack if I hauled it from there. Plus he’s got a flight to catch tonight.” His smile faded. “That’s pretty much all he does—catch flights. Especially since my mom died.”
    Lucas and Alex stared at the floor, and the cabin went deathly silent, as if a shadowy hand had reached in and snatched away the easiness the three boys had just begun to feel.
    â€œJeez, what did I say?” asked George. “I mean, it’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
    Lucas looked past George out the window. There were now four girls gathered on the porch across the lawn, looking like best friends already. “Yeah, but we ain’t got to talk about it, do we?” he finally said.
    George threw up his hands. “Hey, it’s not like I’m planning on sitting around holding hands and crying all week. Look, I just want to go for a swim. That lake’s probably cold as a penguin’s butt, and I’m sweatin’ like an Eskimo in Africa.”
    Lucas shook his head. “That how you always talk?”
    â€œI was going to ask you the same thing,” George said.
    Alex laughed. “Guess we’re going swimming,” he said, unzipping his pack.
    A few minutes later, Alex and George had changed into swimsuits, but Lucas still had on his shorts. Back home, they worked for swimming in the creek too.
    They were heading for the front door when they heard the crunch of gravel and the idling of an engine behind their cabin. Through the back door, Lucas could make out enough of the car to tell it was a big, expensive sedan. A door opened, and they heard a man’s voice.
    â€œPlease remain in the car while I retrieve your bags, Zachary.”
    George looked at the other two boys and mouthed the words, Retrieve your bags? He arched his eyebrows and gave a comical bow toward the door.
    A pale, stiff-looking man struggled into the cabin lugging an expensive-looking backpack and an overstuffed duffel bag. He wore a crisp, white shirt and red tie, with perfectly creased dark pants. He looked completely out of place in the rustic cabin, and his uncomfortable expression let them know he wasn’t thrilled to be in such uncivilized surroundings. Without acknowledging them, he dropped the pack and bag next to the open closet and scurried back out the screen door. His exit was followed shortly by a boy’s voice.
    â€œTell my father I made it here alive. And don’t be surprised if he calls you to pick me up early. I doubt I can take a week in this dump.”
    The boy who came through the screen door looked perhaps a year older than them. Lucas wasn’t