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As Amy sets out to sea with her family on a yacht, she's only thinking about the peaceful waters and the warm sun. But she doesn't get either after a group of pirates seize the boat and its human cargo, and the family becomes a commodity in a highly sophisticated transaction. Hostage One is Amy's father--the most valuable. Hostage Three is Amy, who can't believe the nightmare she's in. But something even stranger happens as she builds a bond with one of her captors, making it brutally clear that the price of life and its value are two very different things.
From one of today's most exciting contemporary voices in YA comes a commercial page-turner you won't be able to put down.
glared at me. — The point is to stop them getting on board, he said. They won’t shoot – we’re worth too much alive. As long as we can prevent them from boarding, we’ll be OK, hence the water cannon. We’ll also trail knotted ropes in our wake from now on. They stop boats from coming up behind us, because they snarl up in the outboards. And we’ll run dark from tomorrow night. — Dark? asked my dad. — Like in the Blitz, said Tony. No lights at night. All curtains drawn. We don’t want to be seen
shoulders. — Oh, screw it, says the stepmother. I’ll do it. I turn to her, surprised. Dad is staring at her, too. — I’ll do it, she repeats, to Ahmed this time. I’ll go with you and the money. Just as long as we can get out of here. — Are you insane? says Dad. Are you actually insane? If you think I’m going to let – — You’re my husband, says the stepmother. You’re not my owner. That makes Dad close his mouth for a moment, and I look into the stepmother’s eyes. — Why would you do that? I
This is not the plan. — The plan just changed, says the stepmother. Suddenly, I feel really ashamed. It didn’t even occur to me to volunteer, even to be with Farouz for a bit longer, and here’s my stepmother, who’s usually selfish and who complains about stuff, saying that she’ll go with the pirates because she wants me to be safe. — I forbid this! says Dad. I absolutely forbid it. — The only way you can forbid it is if you go yourself, says the stepmother. She’s looking right at him,
room, with a rug on the floor and a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling. The fat man withdraws respectfully. Ahmed arranges the bags on a little table that stands on the rug. He starts to pull out bundles of money, consulting a sheet of paper that he has taken from his pocket. Pirates enter, go up to him, get their money and retreat out of the shop, nodding their gratitude. Some of them narrow their eyes when they see me – surprised to see me, I guess. A couple shoot questioning looks at Ahmed,
the air. There is a pop sound – pop, pop, pop – and I realise that someone is shooting at it, but the helicopter doesn’t respond, it just flies back towards the ship. What if … I know where the helipad is, I saw it from the Daisy May. I jump up, dropping the binoculars, and start running. There is shouting from behind me. A sailor opens a door in front of me, and I veer around it, catching a glimpse of his startled face, my feet ringing on the metal of the deck. I pass doors and corridors, even