Becca's a shit motorboat driver, but at least she's efficient. She wastes no time in getting us to the center of the lake; just guns the engine and sends us flying. (I offered to steer, but she said I couldn't— apparently the last thing I drove I crashed into a telephone pole.) We skim across the surface like a water bug on steroids, shooting up waves and creating a ruckus that I'm sure will get us a million marks or something even worse; but I guess if Finn is about to kick it, we might as well put our best efforts into saving him.

It doesn't take too long to find the canoe. Becca blasts the headlights on their highest setting and Finn's red hair shines brighter than any beacon, even through the fog. It's only until we get closer, though, that a figure floats out of the mist across from him. Owen.

My heart hits the bottom of the lake. "Becca, there's a counselor—!"

"Shut up," she says, and her voice is so dead serious, that I do.

The motorboat drifts closer to the canoe. Now, I can see why Becca wanted me to shut up so badly. There are bigger things than marks to worry about now, because Owen is pointing a gun directly at Finn's head, and his expression looks crazy enough that I know he won't hesitate to pull the trigger.

"Don't come any closer!" Owen screams at us. "Just turn the boat around and sail back to shore. I won't hurt him if you do what I say."

"He's telling the truth," Finn calls out. He's holding his hands up like he's in the process of being arrested. "His gun is loaded, it'll kill me in instant. Just do what Owen says and go back to camp."

"Becca," I say, forcing the words out between my gritted teeth, "What the fuck is going on?"

Becca tears her gaze away from the motorboat and glances my way, her mismatched eyes wide and bewildered. "I don't know. I didn't see that Owen would have a gun."

"Why does our counselor have a fucking gun in the first place? I thought there were no firearms allowed at Lightlake—"

"Shut up, Ronan— just shut up! I'm trying to think!"

The boat pushes forward, carried by the waves. "I'm serious!" Owen shouts. "Move another inch, and I'll shoot him!"

"Becca—"

"Be quiet!"

I can't stand this anymore. I spin the steering wheel to the right and jerk the motorboat away from the canoe. Becca swears angrily, but doesn't try to bring us closer— she lets us drift away, Finn's pale, terrified face retreating into the mist.

"That's good!" Owen yells in the distance. "Now, go back to camp. As long as you two never mention this again, no harm will come to either of you or Finn."

"He's lying," Becca says to me, her voice furiously certain. "He'll shoot Finn the second we leave."

"What the hell are we supposed to do then? He'll shoot Finn if we don't!"

Becca slams her hands down on the guardrail, her expression agonized."I don't know. I don't know! I can't concentrate— I can't see!"

I cover my face with my palms and try not to scream.

There's no way out of this shitty situation. If we leave, Finn dies. If we stay, Finn dies. Either way we're mortally fucked. How are we supposed to fix this? How am I supposed to fix this? There's no solution to this problem, no easy escape route. Finn is going to die right in front of us and there's absolutely nothing I can do to stop it.

This is my fault. I convinced Finn to speak with Owen— I talked him into this. If he dies, it will be his blood on my hands.

And, even worse, I'll have killed a friend.

"We need the Kraken," Becca blurts out. "It's the only thing that can save Finn now."

"And how the hell are we supposed to find it? I don't exactly have its phone number. For all we know, it could be on the other side of the lake taking a nap."

"I don't know how we're supposed to call it, Ronan, I just know that we need it." Becca squints at me like she's on the verge of tears. "I'm trying, Ronan. I swear to God I'm trying. But this psychic thing— it has its limits. I can't save everyone."

"You don't have to save everyone. You only have to save Finn."

"I'll give you one more minute to leave!" Owen bellows. "If you aren't gone by then, I'll shoot him!"

"Fuck," I exclaim. My heartbeat thunders in my chest. "Fuck! We have to do something. There has to be something we can do—"

"We can't do anything! The Kraken favors Finn. It has the power to save him."

"How do you know it favors him?"

"Because I'm a fucking psychic, Ronan, and I just know!"

"Thirty seconds!" cries Owen.

Becca lets out a tiny, despairing gasp. "The Kraken!"

"You already said that!" I shout at her. "The Kraken can't help us!"

"Ten seconds!"

"No, Ronan, look!" Becca points towards the black water, fingers shaking. "The Kraken."

"Time's up!" Owen screams.

Gunshot.