Lost Girls Read Online Free PDF Page B

Campbell?” I ask several times, and finally she answers.
    “For Christ’s sake, Bonnie, no, I’m not all right.” Shetakes a bottle of Thai whiskey from her backpack and drinks. There’s an uncomfortable silence. She’s angry and I don’t know what to say. Natalie, huddled next to her, breaks the silence, howling, “I want to go home, I want to go home.”
    She sets the other juniors off, and soon the three of them are sobbing their little hearts out. We older girls try to cuddle them, but Natalie won’t be quieted and won’t let anyone near her, and her leg is looking sore. I wish we could find the first-aid kit.
    “I can’t believe we’ve lost the first-aid kit!” I stare pointedly at Mrs. Campbell, who ignores me. “It could have gone in the waterproof bag with the food.”
    Jas shakes her head at me, frowning. She knows how I’m feeling, but she’s determined to keep the peace.
    The boatman will be back the day after tomorrow, and we’ll have to make the best of it in the meantime. The wind is still very strong and the waves are high and we feel safer if we stay in the shelter of the rock. We’ve stacked a great pile of palm fronds across the cave mouth to give us more protection from the wind.
    I pull out my journal. I’ve started mapping out the island on a double page. I’ve named the cave Black Cave, because it is almost a cave and the rock is very dark with black lichens. I suddenly feel guilty. Why wasn’t someone holding on to Sandy? How did it happen? She shouldn’thave died. Could we have saved her? Her poor parents. They don’t know. How will we tell them? Will Mrs. Campbell tell them? Will the Thai police or USAF military police have to come to the island? We’ll have to take her body back with us in the boat. It seems inappropriate—disrespectful—to make a map when Sandy is lying dead. I replace the journal in the waterproof plastic folder with my pencil and Swiss Army knife. I’ve attached it to my belt with a clip.
    I’m still upset by Mrs. Campbell’s outburst. Jas comes to give me a hug, but I shake her off. I can’t get over it.
    Arlene and May are useless. All they talk about is boys.
    “If we had boys with us they’d know what to do. Boys are good at building and stuff.”
    “Yeah, Lan Kua’s useful with his hands.”
    “So I’ve heard,” May says knowingly, and Arlene smirks.
    “Shut up, you two!” I shout at them and they make faces at me.
    I’m trying to distract myself by thinking about William Golding’s book
Lord of the Flies
. Our teacher told us it was about the falling apart of society when there is no order, no authority figures. But the characters are all little boys, and everyone knows little boys are barely human.
    Anyway, we’re all female on this island, and we won’tbecome savages. The bit when they attack Piggy is horrible. Girls wouldn’t act that way. We’re much more civilized.
    Hope has started her period, and broken her glasses, and she wants to go home.

four
DAY 3, MORNING
    Didn’t sleep last night—sleeping bag gritty and damp. My hair is sticky and tastes of salt. My scalp is itchy with sand and dirt. Lips are dry and cracked. Wish I’d brought ChapStick or Vaseline. I’ll never go to an island again for as long as I live.
    None of us feel like eating, except Hope, whose appetite never seems to suffer no matter what happens. But Mrs. Campbell says we must.
    So, just like yesterday, it’s tinned sardines and coldbaked beans for brunch straight from the tin, with damp matzos.
    Natalie’s leg looks bad and she refuses to let Mrs. Campbell tend to it—screams if she gets close. Not that Mrs. Campbell can do much anyway, without the first-aid kit. But when Natalie falls into an exhausted sleep Mrs. Campbell examines the injury. I help her clean it with bottled water and attempt to remove dirt from the wound, which is closing up. Mrs. Campbell says it should have been stitched and heroically sacrifices a strip of her torn