Ryan Mandler hated to admit he was scared but he was...

Ryan Mandher hated to admit he was scared, but he was. He suspected that he was the only kid left on the island of Elsinore, and he had to find out what happened to the others.
Shortly before daybreak, he stole out of bed and tiptoed past his uncle’s bedroom, down the staircase, and into the yard, cursing himself for ever having come. For the hundredth time, he asked himself why his uncle had wanted him to visit. The old guy seemed to hate him.
Behind the garage, Ryan found his bike lying in the shrubbery where he’d hidden it. He pulled it out and pedaled as fast as he could along the deserted streets. When he reached the airport, he looked around furtively and saw nobody.
Everything was eerily still. The planes, dark and watchful as crows, seemed to stare at him as he picked his way through the shadows to the in-and-out hatch. Finding the door unlocked, he slipped inside and opened the visitors’ register. Through the window he spotted the immigration officer strolling back down the runway toward him. He’d better hurry before she caught him snooping into her records.
Ryan’s fingers trembled as he thumbed through the pages. In the section marked “July,” he found his name in the middle of the list. The names above his had been crossed out with a thin black line—four boys, the ones he’d met the morning he’d arrived. Since then all four boys had disappeared.
Running his eyes down the page, he discovered the freshly-inked names of four newcomers scheduled to arrive within the next few days. Much as he needed their help, he half wished he could warn them not to come. But there was nothing he could do, not now. He quickly memorized the names of two boys from Washington, D.C., a girl from New Orleans, and a girl from San Diego, California. With a shiver, he noticed that the girl from California had a question mark by her name.

FLIGHT
OF FANTASY

Lindsey had never laid eyes on a plane like her great aunt’s King Lear jet. It was electric blue, and the interior was furnished like a living room with a plush sofa and matching chairs, a fireplace with a fake fire, and a wide-angle movie screen. It’s awesome, a flying sitcom set, she thought, hugging herself.
She hadn’t wanted to go—she didn’t even know her Great Aunt Marie—but as the engines began to purr with the promise of freedom, she was suddenly glad she was about to visit the old woman. What a way to run away from home, she told herself. I’m one lucky kid...

Just how "lucky" will Lindsey turn out to be?...