Page 6 of 09 - Welcome to Camp Nightmare

  “We swam over. Early this morning,” Dori whispered, nervously pushing at her curly red hair. “We waited here. In the bushes.”

  “But it’s not allowed,” I said, unable to hide my confusion. “If you’re caught—”

  “We had to talk to you,” Dawn interrupted, raising her head to peek over the top of the bushes, then quickly ducking back down.

  “We decided to risk it,” Dori added.

  “What—what’s wrong?” I stammered. A red-and-black bug crawled up my shoulder. I brushed it away.

  “The girls’ camp. It’s a nightmare,” Dori whispered.

  “Everyone calls it Camp Nightmare instead of Camp Nightmoon,” Dawn added. “Strange things have been happening.”

  “Huh?” I gaped at her. Not far from us in the water, I could hear the shouts and splashes of the swim race beginning. “What kinds of strange things?”

  “Scary things,” Dori replied, her expression solemn.

  “Girls have disappeared,” Dawn told me. “Just vanished from sight.”

  “And no one seems to care,” Dori added in a trembling whisper.

  “I don’t believe it!” I uttered. “The same thing has happened here. At the boys’ camp.” I swallowed hard. “Remember Mike?”

  Both girls nodded.

  “Mike disappeared,” I told them. “They removed his stuff, and he just disappeared.”

  “It’s unbelievable,” Dori said. “Three girls are gone from our camp.”

  “They announced that one was attacked by a bear,” Dawn whispered.

  “What about the other two?” I asked.

  “Just gone,” Dawn replied, the words catching in her throat.

  I could hear whistles blowing in the water. The race had ended. Another one was being organized.

  The sun disappeared once again behind high white clouds. Shadows lengthened and grew darker.

  I told them quickly about Roger and Jay and the attack at the Forbidden Bunk. They listened in openmouthed silence. “Just like at our camp,” Dawn said.

  “We have to do something,” Dori said heatedly.

  “We have to get together. The boys and the girls,” Dawn whispered, peering once again over the tops of the leaves. “We have to make a plan.”

  “You mean to escape?” I asked, not really understanding.

  The two girls nodded. “We can’t stay here,” Dawn said grimly. “Every day another girl disappears. And the counselors act as if nothing is happening.”

  “I think they want us to get killed or something,” Dori added with emotion.

  “Have you written to your parents?” I asked.

  “We write every day,” Dori replied. “But we haven’t heard from them.”

  I suddenly realized that I hadn’t received any mail from my parents, either. They had both promised to write every day. But I had been at camp for nearly a week, and I hadn’t received a single piece of mail.

  “Visitors Day is next week,” I said. “Our parents will be here. We can tell them everything.”

  “It may be too late,” Dawn said grimly.

  “Everyone is so scared!” Dori declared. “I haven’t slept in two nights. I hear these horrible screams outside every night.”

  Another whistle blew, closer to shore. I could hear the swimmers returning. Morning swim was ending.

  “I—I don’t know what to say,” I told them. “You’ve got to be careful. Don’t get caught.”

  “We’ll swim back to the girls’ camp when everyone has left,” Dawn said. “But we have to meet again, Billy. We have to get more guys together. You know. Maybe if we all get organized ” Her voice trailed off.

  “There’s something bad going on at this camp,” Dori said with a shiver, narrowing her eyes. “Something evil.”

  “I—I know,” I agreed. I could hear boys’ voices now. Close by. Just on the other side of the leafy bushes. “I’ve got to go.”

  “We’ll try to meet here again the day after tomorrow,” Dawn whispered. “Be careful, Billy.”

  “You be careful,” I whispered. “Don’t get caught.”

  They slipped back, deeper in the bushes.

  Crouching low, I made my way away from the shore. When I was past the clump of bushes, I stood up and began to run. I couldn’t wait to tell Colin and Jay about what the girls had said.

  I felt frightened and excited at the same time. I thought maybe it would make Jay feel a little better to know that the same kinds of horrible things were happening across the river at the girls’ camp.

  Halfway to the bunks, I had an idea. I stopped and turned toward the lodge.

  I suddenly remembered seeing a pay phone on the wall on the side of the building. Someone had told me that phone was the only one campers were allowed to use.

  I’ll call Mom and Dad, I decided.

  Why hadn’t I thought of it before?

  I can call my parents, I realized, and tell them everything. I can ask them to come and get me. And they could get Jay, Colin, Dawn, and Dori, too.

  Behind me, I saw my group heading toward the scratchball field, their swimming towels slung over their shoulders. I wondered if anyone had noticed that I was missing.

  Jay and Colin were missing, too, I told myself. Larry and the others probably think I’m with them.

  I watched them trooping across the tall grass in twos and threes. Then I turned and started jogging up the hill toward the lodge.

  The idea of calling home had cheered me up already.

  I was so eager to hear my parents’ voices, so eager to tell them the strange things that were happening here.

  Would they believe me?

  Of course they would. My parents always believed me. Because they trusted me.

  As I ran up the hill, the dark pay phone came into view on the white lodge wall. I started to run at full speed. I wanted to fly to the phone.

  I hope Mom and Dad are home, I thought.

  They’ve got to be home.

  I was panting loudly as I reached the wall. I lowered my hands to my knees and crouched there for a moment, waiting to catch my breath.

  Then I reached up to take the receiver down.

  And gasped.

  The pay phone was plastic. Just a stage prop.

  A phony.

  It was a thin sheet of molded plastic held to the wall by a nail, made to look just like a telephone.

  It wasn’t real. It was a fake.

  They don’t want us to call out, I thought with a sudden chill.

  My heart thudding, my head spinning in bitter disappointment, I turned away from the wall—and bumped right into Uncle Al.

  15

  “Billy—what are you doing up here?” Uncle Al asked. He was wearing baggy green camp shorts and a sleeveless white T-shirt that revealed his meaty pink arms. He carried a brown clipboard filled with papers. “Where are you supposed to be?”

  “I uh wanted to make a phone call,” I stammered, taking a step back. “I wanted to call my parents.”

  He eyed me suspiciously and fingered his yellow mustache. “Really?”

  “Yeah. Just to say hi,” I told him. “But the phone—”

  Uncle Al followed my gaze to the plastic phone. He chuckled. “Someone put that up as a joke,” he said, grinning at me. “Did it fool you?”

  “Yeah,” I admitted, feeling my face grow hot. I raised my eyes to his. “Where is the real phone?”

  His grin faded. His expression turned serious. “No phone,” he replied sharply. “Campers aren’t allowed to call out. It’s a rule, Billy.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know what to say.

  “Are you really homesick?” Uncle Al asked softly.

  I nodded.

  “Well, go write your mom and dad a long letter,” he said. “It’ll make you feel a lot better.”

  “Okay,” I said. I didn’t think it would make me feel better. But I wanted to get away from Uncle Al.

  He raised his clipboard and gazed at it. “Where are you supposed to be now?” he asked.

  “Scratchball, I think,” I replied. “I didn’t feel too well, see. So I—”

  “And when is your canoe trip?” he asked, not listeni
ng to me. He flipped through the sheets of paper on the clipboard, glancing over them quickly.

  “Canoe trip?” I hadn’t heard about any canoe trip.

  “Tomorrow,” he said, answering his own question. “Your group goes tomorrow. Are you excited?” He lowered his eyes to mine.

  “I—I didn’t really know about it,” I confessed.

  “Lots of fun!” he exclaimed enthusiastically. “The river doesn’t look like much up here. But it gets pretty exciting a few miles down. You’ll find yourself in some good rapids.”

  He squeezed my shoulder briefly. “You’ll enjoy it,” he said, grinning. “Everyone always enjoys the canoe trip.”

  “Great,” I said. I tried to sound a little excited, but my voice came out flat and uncertain.

  Uncle Al gave me a wave with his clipboard and headed around toward the front of the lodge, taking long strides. I stood watching him till he disappeared around the corner of the building. Then I made my way down the hill to the bunk.

  I found Colin and Jay on the grass at the side of the cabin. Colin had his shirt off and was sprawled on his back, his hands behind his head. Jay sat cross-legged beside him, nervously pulling up long, slender strands of grass, then tossing them down.

  “Come inside,” I told them, glancing around to make sure no one else could hear.

  They followed me into the cabin. I closed the door.

  “What’s up?” Colin asked, dropping onto his bunk. He picked up his red bandanna and twisted it in his hands.

  I told them about Dawn and Dori and what they had reported about the girls’ camp.

  Colin and Jay both reacted with shock.

  “They really swam over here and waited for you?” Jay asked.

  I nodded. “They think we have to get organized or escape or something,” I said.

  “They could get in big trouble if they get caught,” Jay said thoughtfully.

  “We’re all in big trouble,” I told him. “We have to get out!”

  “Visitors Day is next week,” Colin muttered.

  “I’m going to write my parents right now,” I said, pulling out the case from under my bunk where I kept my paper and pens. “I’m going to tell them I have to come home on Visitors Day.”

  “I guess I will, too,” Jay said, tapping his fingers nervously against the bunk frame.

  “Me, too,” Colin agreed. “It’s just too weird here!”

  I pulled out a couple of sheets of paper and sat down on the bed to write. “Dawn and Dori were really scared,” I told them.

  “So am I,” Jay admitted.

  I started to write my letter. I wrote Dear Mom and Dad, HELP! then stopped. I raised my eyes across the cabin to Jay and Colin. “Do you guys know about the canoe trip tomorrow?” I asked.

  They stared back at me, their expressions surprised.

  “Whoa!” Colin declared. “A three-mile hike this afternoon, and a canoe trip tomorrow?”

  It was my turn to be surprised. “Hike? What hike?”

  “Aren’t you coming on it?” Jay asked.

  “You know that really tall counselor? Frank? The one who wears the yellow cap?” Colin asked. “He told Jay and me we’re going on a three-mile hike after lunch.”

  “No one told me,” I replied, chewing on the end of my pen.

  “Maybe you’re not in the hike group,” Jay said.

  “You’d better ask Frank at lunch,” Colin suggested. “Maybe he couldn’t find you. Maybe you’re supposed to come, too.”

  I groaned. “Who wants to go on a three-mile hike in this heat?”

  Colin and Jay both shrugged.

  “Frank said we’d really like it,” Colin told me, knotting and unknotting the red bandanna.

  “I just want to get out of here,” I said, returning to my letter.

  I wrote quickly, intensely. I wanted to tell my parents all the frightening, strange things that had happened. I wanted to make them see why I couldn’t stay at Camp Nightmoon.

  I had written nearly a page and a half, and I was up to the part where Jay and Roger went out to explore the Forbidden Bunk, when Larry burst in. “You guys taking the day off?” he asked, his eyes going from one of us to the other. “You on vacation or something?”

  “Just hanging out,” Jay replied.

  I folded up my letter and started to tuck it under my pillow. I didn’t want Larry to see it. I realized I didn’t trust Larry at all. I had no reason to.

  “What are you doing, Billy?” he asked suspiciously, his eyes stopping on the letter I was shoving under the pillow.

  “Just writing home,” I replied softly.

  “You homesick or something?” he asked, a grin spreading across his face.

  “Maybe,” I muttered.

  “Well, it’s lunchtime, guys,” he announced. “Let’s hustle, okay?”

  We all climbed out of our bunks.

  “Jay and Colin are going on a hike with Frank this afternoon, I heard,” Larry said. “Lucky guys.” He turned and started out the door.

  “Larry!” I called to him. “Hey, Larry—what about me? Am I supposed to go on the hike too?”

  “Not today,” he called back.

  “But why not?” I said.

  But Larry disappeared out the door.

  I turned back to my two bunk mates. “Lucky guys!” I teased them.

  They both growled back at me in reply. Then we headed up the hill to lunch.

  They served pizza for lunch, which is usually my favorite. But today, the pizza was cold and tasted like cardboard, and the cheese stuck to the roof of my mouth.

  I wasn’t really hungry.

  I kept thinking about Dawn and Dori, how frightened they were, how desperate. I wondered when I’d see them again. I wondered if they would swim over and hide at the boys’ camp again before Visitors Day.

  After lunch, Frank came by our table to pick up Jay and Colin. I asked him if I was supposed to come, too.

  “You weren’t on the list, Billy,” he said, scratching at a mosquito bite on his neck. “I can only take two at a time, you know? The trail gets a little dangerous.”

  “Dangerous?” Jay asked, climbing up from the table.

  Frank grinned at him. “You’re a big strong guy,” he told Jay. “You’ll do okay.”

  I watched Frank lead Colin and Jay out of the mess hall. Our table was empty now, except for a couple of blond-haired guys I didn’t know who were arm wrestling down at the end near the wall.

  I pushed my tray away and stood up. I wanted to go back to the bunk and finish the letter to my parents. But as I took a few steps toward the door, I felt a hand on my shoulder.

  I turned to see Larry grinning down at me. “Tennis tournament,” he said.

  “Huh?” I reacted with surprise.

  “Billy, you’re representing Bunk Four in the tennis tournament,” Larry said. “Didn’t you see the lineup? It was posted on the announcements board.”

  “But I’m a terrible tennis player!” I protested.

  “We’re counting on you,” Larry replied. “Get a racket and get your bod to the courts!”

  I spent the afternoon playing tennis. I beat a little kid in straight sets. I had the feeling he had never held a tennis racket before. Then I lost a long, hard-fought match to one of the blond-haired boys who’d been arm wrestling at lunch.

  I was drowning in sweat, and every muscle in my body ached when the match was over. I headed to the waterfront for a refreshing swim.

  Then I returned to the bunk, changed into jeans and a green-and-white Camp Nightmoon T-shirt, and finished my letter to my parents.

  It was nearly dinnertime. Jay and Colin weren’t back from their hike yet. I decided to go up to the lodge and mail my letter. As I headed up the hill, I saw clusters of kids hurrying to their bunks to change for dinner. But no sign of my two bunk mates.

  Holding the letter tightly, I headed around to the back of the lodge building, where the camp office was located. The door was wide open, so I walked in. A young woman was usually behind the counter to answer questions and to take the letters to be mailed.

  “Anyone here?” I called, leaning over the counte
r and peering into the tiny back room, which was dark.

  No reply.

  “Hi. Anyone here?” I repeated, clutching the envelope.

  No. The office was empty.

  Disappointed, I started to leave. Then I glimpsed the large burlap bag on the floor just inside the tiny back room.

  The mailbag!

  I decided to put my letter in the bag with the others to be mailed. I slipped around the counter and into the back room and crouched down to put my envelope into the bag.

  To my surprise, the mailbag was stuffed full with letters. As I pulled the bag open and started to shove my letter inside, a bunch of letters fell out onto the floor.

  I started to scoop them up when a letter caught my eye.

  It was one of mine. Addressed to my parents.

  One I had written yesterday.

  “Weird,” I muttered aloud.

  Bending over the bag, I reached in and pulled out a big handful of letters. I sifted through them quickly. I found a letter Colin had written.

  I pulled out another pile.

  And my eyes fell upon two other letters I had written nearly a week ago when I first arrived at camp.

  I stared at them, feeling a cold chill run down my back.

  All of our letters, all of the letters we had written since the first day of camp, were here. In this mailbag.

  None of them had been mailed.

  We couldn’t call home.

  And we couldn’t write home.

  Frantically, my hands trembling, I began shoving the envelopes back into the mailbag.

  What is going on here? I wondered. What is going on?

  16

  By the time I got into the mess hall, Uncle Al was finishing the evening announcements. I slid into my seat, hoping I hadn’t missed anything important.

  I expected to see Jay and Colin across the table from me. But their places on the bench were empty.

  That’s strange, I thought, still shaken from my discovery about the mailbag. They should be back by now.

  I wanted to tell them about the mail. I wanted to share the news that our parents weren’t getting any of the letters we wrote.

  And we weren’t getting any of theirs.

  The camp had to be keeping our mail from us, I suddenly realized.