Treasure Tracks by S.A. Rodriguez

Author:S.A. Rodriguez
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Farrar, Straus and Giroux (BYR)

11

JAGGED CLUE

A short distance away, I pulled up to a tiny island. The entire length of this deserted key measured less than a football field across. Mangroves barricaded the coastline, their tangle of brown roots plunging into the water like prison bars, warning: KEEP OUT.

I turned to Dad before cutting off the motor. “This is where I want to explore. Less than four feet.” I tapped the depth finder. “Easy to walk to shore. On my own…” I narrowed my eyes at Sly, sitting in the bow, his eyes hidden behind his mirrored sunglasses.

Dad scratched his chin, examining my face. “Hmm. Time to reapply.” He passed me the tube-o-torture.

Groan …

He addressed Sly. “This place seem safe to you?”

“Little risk from what I can see.”

“You can watch me from the boat,” I shot back before cannonballing off the side, and before Dad could find anything else to freak out about.

Bare feet connected with slimy ocean bottom. A mixture of mud and seaweed, sucking me in knee-deep like quicksand. I plowed on, circumventing the natural barriers until discovering a tiny wisp of sand on the far west side to serve as an entrance point.

After a few tries, I yanked my legs from the pool of muck gluing them to the ocean floor and came ashore. Only to find the island had another defensive barrier: hundreds, thousands, of sharp, broken shells lay scattered all over the sand. Spiky minefields guarding its shores. The aroma of ocean scum greeted me when I entered.

I hopped from foot to foot, balancing on tiptoe to avoid the tiny knife blades crunching beneath my toes. Shorebirds gathered around, watching my freakish dance in fascination.

I turned my face into a mask, erasing the stabs of pain, before waving back to Dad and shooting him a thumbs-up sign. For sure, he’d send Sly over with the giant first-aid kit if he knew about the cuts accumulating on my soles.

Pushing back branch after branch, I followed a narrow trail. The path gave way to roots and chunks of driftwood as I hiked deeper and deeper into the island. A few more steps and I’d reach the other side.

Ouch!

My toe exploded with pain, banging against a hard object. Another roadblock.

I bent down to examine my foot and my pulse went into overdrive. Nature didn’t make this. Only man could craft this corroding piece of steel rail. It was long and almost four inches wide. A thatch of lime-green seagrass and barnacles were attached to the metal. Maybe it had just been tossed ashore in the storm. One thing was sure, it was old. Almost one hundred years old.

The ancient piece of track could only be from Flagler’s railroad. How else would this wash out to sea and land in this remote area of the Keys?

My heart sped up, matching the speed of a real-life train racing across the old rail. Treasure could have landed here, too.

I brushed down the rug of seagrass to get a better look.

Yeow!

The jagged edge of a barnacle buried in the seagrass cut deep into my palm.

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