“Bats,” Walton said, agitated.

“You should jump in the water and let the sharks eat you,” Lyla suggested. “You’re basically dead already. Worse, you’re annoying me.”

“No, I’ll survive. I have gnome minions. Just nearby. They’ll rescue us.”

Lyla sighed. “Walton, you do not have gnome minions.”

“You’ll see. I’ll go get them.”

Then Walton hurled himself into the water with a resounding splash. Tom, Vik, and Lyla all waited for his scream, but it never came. Soon, he’d swum so far Tom couldn’t see him. For a delirious moment, Tom marveled at the clean escape Walton had made. His water and food-deprived brain tried to wrap around it, and all Tom could think for a long moment was that Walton truly did have gnome minions out there, helping him.

Then fins cut their way through the water, and Walton’s scream rose in the distance, killing that fanciful idea.

“Ugh.” Vik threw his hands over his eyes. He leaned back on the raft, tugging at his shirt like he was hot, even though his teeth were chattering. “This is awful. So we have to live through getting eaten by sharks, or we die slowly and painfully of dehydration. Guys, there’s only one option here.” Vik rallied his strength and sat up. “We can’t win. Let’s all . . . you know. Kill each other somehow.”

“It’s bound to hurt less than the sharks,” Lyla muttered.

Tom found his eyes riveted to the bloody spot in the water where Walton had been, the way the sharks were frantically swarming over it. All simulations as animals involved a battle between the powerful instincts of the creature they played and the deliberate human mind. Yosef’s group was staying clear of their raft because their human minds told them they’d get stabbed.

Tom could see how frenzied the blood had made them. What if they did something to create that frenzy on purpose, so those animal instincts would truly take more control over them?

“Guys, I have an idea.” Tom was excited. “What if we wait till Snowden reappears, we kill him, and we use his body as shark chum, and stab Yosef’s group when they get lured in?”

“I’d pay to see Snowden killed,” Vik exulted.

Lyla cackled evilly. “Shark chum made of Snowden. It would be so perfect.”

It sounded like a plan to Tom.

When Snowden reappeared, Tom was ready. He gutted Snowden with one brutal thrust of his spear. Then he seized the thrashing blond kid before he could tumble overboard, and pinned his body to the floor of the boat, rancid water sloshing around them. “Okay, he’s bleeding out fast. We should tilt him over the water or something—”

Tom blinked at her. “Are you crazy?” Lyla shouted at him.

“What? We talked about this.” He looked at Vik. “You said you’d pay to see it!”