The Sign in the Smoke (Nancy Drew Diaries #12)(8)

“Someone did what?” Charla called, looking openly worried now.

Deborah frowned, peering beneath the surface of the water. I turned to look at George again, and she returned my glance with a furrowed brow. Nobody was saying it—but I knew we were all thinking of the story Bella had told the night before. The camper who’d drowned in this very lake. The camper who supposedly haunted the camp.

All at once, Deborah shook her head and turned back to us, smiling. “Nothing,” she said. “Just ignore me! I’m sorry, folks, there are some reeds and plants down there, and my foot must have gotten snagged on one of them. No big deal!”

“What about us?” Charla murmured, too quietly for Deborah to hear. “I don’t want to get caught by any weed.”

I swallowed hard. I wasn’t proud to admit it, but I was thinking the same thing. I wasn’t a terribly strong swimmer to begin with. The last thing I needed was some angry “weed” pulling me down.

If it really is a weed.

Deborah demonstrated the rest of the test: treading water for two minutes, then swimming back. Nothing else happened that would be considered out of the ordinary. When Deborah crested the ladder that led back up to the pier, she held out her arms for applause, and we all clapped politely.

“Thank you,” said Deborah with a smile. “I deserve that, for being the first one to brave that cold water! Who’s next? Let’s see. . . .” She walked to the edge of the pier and picked up a clipboard. “Sam and Bella were interested in the lifeguard test, right? So let’s do the basic tests first. Alphabetical order?” Without waiting for us to answer, she squinted at the paper on her clipboard. “Benson, Charla?”

Charla cringed, but nodded and bravely moved forward. In what seemed like no time, she’d jumped into the water and headed to the float. She passed her test with flying colors, and then Maddie took and passed hers. I was beginning to feel calm again when Deborah called out, “Drew, Nancy? I think you’re up!”

Great. I raised my hand, trying to muster up a not-miserable expression.

Deborah smiled encouragingly. “Okay. A little advice from someone who’s been there: jump in from the end of the pier. Rip off the Band-Aid, you know? You get used to the water faster that way.”

I took a breath and glanced at Bess. You. This was your idea. But she just smiled like we were all having a great time. I strolled to the edge of the pier and bent my toes over. The water looked deep green up close, and I couldn’t see much beyond the surface.

A shrill whistle sounded behind me. I cringed and turned around.

Deborah was holding up a whistle she’d looped around her neck and grinning. “Sorry,” she said. “It’s just, we have a lot of swim tests to get through. Maybe we should hur—”

She was right, I realized before she even finished. So I jumped.

Splash!

The water wasn’t too cold. It just felt like I was being pelted with ice cubes by a bunch of angry polar bears. It made every part of my body want to shrivel, and I gasped so hard I had to remind myself to paddle and stay afloat.

Immediately my teeth started chattering. Br-r-r-r-r-r-r. Br-r-r-r-r-r.

All right, I thought, let’s get this over with!

Deborah looked down at me from the pier and raised a stopwatch from her pocket. “Okay, start swimming for the raft!” she called.

I turned around, located the raft, and made a beeline there. Moving was good. Moving was better than being still, because the tiny bit of exercise warmed me a little.

By the time I reached the raft, I was feeling a little more confident. I slapped the side and turned around.

“Almost done!” Deborah shouted. “Now push off just a little ways—there! Good! Okay, I’m starting the timer. You tread water there until I tell you to stop!”

I moved my arms and legs, trying to do the minimum I needed to keep myself afloat. This was the part of the test I’d been dreading. Treading water always made me nervous. I was so aware of how tired I was getting, how my breath was becoming more labored. How long can I really keep this up? I’d never timed myself. I just hoped I had two minutes in me.

“One minute down!” Deborah shouted after what felt like forever. “One to go!”

I kept moving. Treading, treading, treading . . . I glanced at the shore and, at that moment, remembered that neither Sam nor Bella had returned to the lake from the bathroom or the cabin. Hasn’t it been long enough? How long had Deborah’s test taken, anyway? Surely it didn’t take that long to—

“AAAAUUGH!”

Suddenly my head plunged under the surface and my eyes, nostrils, mouth, and ears filled with lake water. My throat burned and, in my shock, I gasped, letting the air out of my lungs. Something had grabbed my foot and yanked it down! I began choking and gagging, reflexively trying to pull my foot away from whatever held it, but it was no use. I tried to shimmy around, working up enough force to pry my foot away from whatever—whoever?—held it. After a few seconds, my eyes adjusted and I could see a few inches in front of me in the green, murky water. Deborah had been right—the floor of the lake was covered with long green plants. But that didn’t feel like what had my foot.

I looked down at my leg and pulled again. What I saw made me gasp, which only made me swallow more lake water, gagging more. . . .

It looks like a human figure.