Page 59 of The Wild Zone

I punched the air. “The Wild Omada is on the case!”

“Why did you choose that nickname anyway?” Benny asked, picking up a stack of greasy plates.

“Omada is the Greek word for team,” I said. “And I think Wild speaks for itself.”

Harper’s eyes lit up. “I actually love that. It makes us sound tough and mysterious. Like—”

“Like Shane?” Zuri asked with an innocent blink.

I smirked. Harper blushed.

“Anyway,” he said. “If we have a code name for us, we should have a code name for the Wild Zone—you know, for when we’re around other campers.”

“How about the Kitchen?” Zuri suggested. “The Wild Zone is always cooking up all kinds of horrors, and we’re spending time in an actual kitchen.” She shrugged. “Might as well lean in.”

“Clever,” Benny said.

I clapped a hand on his shoulder. “The Wild Omada’s headed to the Kitchen! Oh, and if we get hurt, Benny has magic spaghetti squares! They make you feel invincible!”

Harper and Zuri gave him curious looks.

“Ambrosia,” Benny explained. “The Stoll brothers gave me some.”

“So that’s why Katie is acting perky,” Zuri guessed. “You fed her magic spaghetti squares?”

“No,” Benny said defensively. “I mean, it was only one piece. For healing.” He pointed to the sink. “Let’s do dishes.”

“I’ll help!” I said. “The sooner we get done, the sooner we can leave!” I dumped an entire stack of plates into the lava, speckling the front of my coveralls with molten dots.

“Katie!” Benny’s eyes bugged out. “Be careful!”

I tapped my temple. “I’m just working smarter, not harder, Bennificent. Let the dishes soak!”

I started scrubbing and removing plates from the lava, whistling “To My Boyfriend” by Fin.K.L while the others watched me with concern, probably wondering if they needed to stage an ambrosia intervention.

I was still feeling optimistic, though. The first few plates turned out all right, but the longer I took to remove them, the more they crumbled from the extreme heat. Soon I was fishing chunks of china out of the sink.

“Oops,” I said with a nervous laugh. “Well, that’s fewer dishes we have to do tomorrow!”

A voice from the doorway said, “I think that’s the first time I’ve ever heard anyone laugh during KP.”

All four of us turned. Standing at the bottom of the ramp was Beckendorf, my buddy from the forge. His face was grim, like he’d just broken a perfectly good hammer. “I’m glad you’re in a good mood, because I’m afraid I have some news that isn’t so good.”

“What’s going on?” Harper asked.

Instead of answering, Beckendorf strode toward me and rested his hands on my shoulders. “Katie, I don’t want you to freak out.”

I glanced nervously at the others. “Then maybe open with a different sentence.”

“One of the satyr referees didn’t return from the baton race,” he said.

My heart dropped into my stomach. The way he’d singled me out, I already knew who it was, but I asked anyway. “Silas?”

Beckendorf nodded. “He was your protector, right?”

I opened my mouth to answer, but my throat was dry and scratchy. My ambrosia-enhanced optimism evaporated.

“We’ve got a search party out looking,” Beckendorf said. “Hopefully he’ll turn up….” He shifted his gaze to include Benny, Harper, and Zuri. “But now that two members of Camp Half-Blood have gone missing, we need everyone to stay out of the woods until further notice. I wanted to make sure you heard. We’ll let you know as soon as we have more news.”