At just over nine hundred and fifty feet, the Dauphine was one of the largest, as well as newest, cruise ships plying the Inside Passage. With three heated swimming pools, eight restaurants, and an enormous glass-walled observation lounge above the bridge, she carried twenty-one hundred passengers in high comfort and luxury.

Standing on the Gil Island shoreline, Dirk and Summer gazed at the gleaming white liner on approach and saw only a ship of death. The toxic carbon dioxide gas still erupted from the seven pipe outlets, expanding the vapor cloud for over a half mile in every direction. A slight westerly breeze kept the gas away from Gil Island but pushed it farther across the strait. The Dauphine would take nearly five minutes to pass through the cloud, ample time for the heavy carbon dioxide to infiltrate the ducts and air-conditioning systems throughout the vessel. Displacing the oxygen in the air, the gas would bring quick death to every portion of the ship.

“There must be thousands of people aboard,” Summer observed soberly. “We’ve got to warn them.”

“Maybe there’s a radio in the hut,” Dirk said.

They bolted into the fishing hut, ignoring the mum blings from Trevor as they tore the small shack apart. But there was no radio. Stepping outside, Dirk looked into the billow of white gas, trying to spot the research boat. It was hopelessly concealed inside the vapor cloud.

“How much air do you have left in your tank?” he asked Summer hurriedly. “I can try to get back to the boat and call them on the marine radio, but I sucked my tank dry.”

“No, you can’t,” Summer said, shaking her head. “My tank is almost empty as well, because we had to share air. You’d never make it back to the boat alive. I won’t let you go.”

Dirk accepted his sister’s plea, knowing it would likely be a fatal attempt. He desperately searched around, looking for some way to alert the ship. Then he spotted the large barrel next to the hut. Rushing over to the grime-covered drum, he placed his hands against the top lip and shoved. The barrel resisted, then lifted with a slight sloshing sound, telling him it was nearly full. He unscrewed a cap on the top and stuck a finger in, then sniffed the liquid inside.

“Gasoline,” he said as Summer approached. “An extra supply for the fishermen to refuel their boats.”

“We can light a bonfire,” Summer suggested excitedly.

“Yes,” Dirk said with a slow nod. “Or perhaps something a little more conspicuous.”

THE DAUPHINE’S CAPTAIN happened to be on the bridge checking the weather forecast when the executive officer called to him.

“Captain, there appears to be an obstruction in the water directly ahead.”