Camp Nowhere (8 page)

A shaft of pale moonlight washed over a tiny shed. And in the faint beam of light, I recognized Drew.

His head poked out through a tiny window, his dark hair ruffling in the breeze. He raised his eyes to me and again repeated his plea. “I’m locked in. Help me. Hurry. You’ve got to hurry.”

“Russell—what is going on?” Charlotte appeared beside me, and the others followed.

“It’s Drew,” I said. “I—I don’t believe this! He’s been locked in this tiny shed!”

“Oh, wow,” Erin muttered. Her eyes went wide with shock.

Drew banged his fists on the walls inside. “Help me. I’ve been in here all day.”

“But—but why?” I sputtered.

“Why are you in there?” Erin demanded. “Who locked you in there?”

“That counselor Will. He’s Uncle Brian’s buddy.
Will heard me yesterday when I said I’d tell you the truth. He and Uncle Brian grabbed me late last night. They dragged me from my bunk and locked me in here.”

“But—that’s crazy! Why?” Charlotte demanded.

“They don’t want me to talk to you,” Drew said, his voice hoarse and frantic. “They didn’t think anyone would come down here. They figured they could keep me hidden here—until it was too late. Too late for you.”

Marty grabbed my shoulder. “This kid isn’t making any sense,” he said. “I think we should leave him here.”

“
No!
” Drew screamed. “I’m making sense. I’m not crazy! You don’t know the danger you’re in. You’ve got to listen to me.”

I squinted at Drew through the pale light. His eyes were wild. He was spitting as he talked.

“The other guys say he’s crazy,” I whispered to my friends. “And he looks kind of…dangerous.”

“What if he isn’t crazy?” Charlotte whispered. “What if he’s trying to help us?”

“Help us do
what
?” Erin asked. She turned back to Drew. “What is this about? Tell us!”

“I can’t,” Drew replied breathlessly. “There is no time. We have to get away from this camp.
Listen to me
. The danger is real. After we get away from here, I promise—I’ll explain everything.”

“We’re leaving this camp tomorrow,” Charlotte
told Drew. “Uncle Brian promised us—”

“He’s a liar!” Drew cried. “Believe me. He’s not your friend.”

“That’s not true,” Marty insisted. “He’s been trying to call our camp all day. He—”

“On what phone?” Drew demanded. “That phone in his office is a fake. Did you see any phone lines out here? No. There are no lines. His phone isn’t hooked up to anything.”

“But—” I started to object. My words caught in my throat. Was Drew telling the truth?”

Drew slammed his hands against the inside of the shed once more. The thin walls shook. “Listen to me! Uncle Brian is not going to let you leave,” he said. “He is going to keep you prisoner here
forever
—like all of us.”

“Prisoner?” David cried. “Are you totally nuts?”

Drew pushed his head farther out the tiny square window. “I’m telling the truth,” he rasped. “Let me out. I’ll help you escape. We’ll help each other get away from this place. And then I’ll explain the danger. I promise. Hurry! They’ll be coming. Please—hurry!”

I studied Drew’s face, trying to figure out if he was telling the truth. But I saw only fear there.

I believe him, I decided.

He’s telling the truth about Uncle Brian.

If Uncle Brian was such a good guy, why did he have Drew locked up? What kind of a man would
lock a kid in a tiny shed for an entire day?

“Let’s do it,” I whispered to my friends. “He’s telling the truth. Let’s get him out of there.”

I started to walk to the shed door. But Marty grabbed me and pulled me back. “No—wait,” he pleaded. “This kid is lying, Russell.”

“Then why did they lock him up in there?” Charlotte asked.

“I—I don’t know,” Marty answered. “But if we let him out…who knows what he’ll do?”

“I’m telling the truth!” Drew insisted, frantically pounding the shed wall. “You’ll be prisoners forever. You’ll never see your families again—like us. You’ll never leave this camp. Please—”

Charlotte shuddered. “I believe him,” she said.

“So do I,” David added softly.

I stepped up to the shed door. “Okay. Let’s get him out.”

A metal combination lock dangled from the shed door. I took out my plastic lighter and held the flame close to the lock to see it better.

“It is all rusted,” I told my friends. “Maybe we can just tug it loose.”

“Let me try,” Marty said, pushing me aside. “I’m stronger than you.”

He bent down and wrapped both hands tightly around the lock. Then, with a loud grunt, he pulled down with all his strength.

“Whoa!” Marty stumbled back as the lock broke loose with a loud
crack
. I caught him and helped him regain his balance.

The shed door swung open and Drew burst out. “Yesss!” He pumped both fists above his head in triumph.

Then he gazed past us, up the path toward the center of the camp. “Let’s go,” he whispered. “The counselors will be down here soon.”

He brushed his black hair out of his eyes. Then he spun around and took off, following the path to the lake.

“Hey—wait up!” I called. My friends and I ran after him.

“Where are we going?” Charlotte asked.

“We’ll keep to the lake,” Drew called back. “Then once we’re away from the camp, we’ll cut through the woods. We have to get to the river.”

“Huh? We’re heading back to the river?” I asked.

Drew didn’t slow down. He pushed through a thick bramble of bushes, keeping low, running full speed. “We won’t be safe until we get to the other side of the river,” he called breathlessly.

Charlotte ran up beside me. “That doesn’t make any sense,” she whispered. “Why will we be safe on the other side?”

I shrugged. Maybe Drew
is
crazy, I thought. I ducked to keep from hitting my head on a low tree branch.

The path curved along the lakeshore. The water lapped softly, ripples shimmering under the pale moonlight.

Charlotte picked up speed to catch up to Drew. “Can’t you explain why we’re doing this?” she demanded.

“No time,” Drew muttered, gasping for breath. He kept glancing back, his face tight with fear. “They’ll be coming after us.”

He turned into the woods. “Hey—!” He tripped over a fallen tree branch. Ducked his head. Pushed through a tangle of weeds. And kept running.

“Wait up!” Marty shouted. “I don’t want to do this. This is crazy!”

“Yeah—hold on a minute!” David rasped, breathing hard.

Drew stopped and spun around. His eyes were wild. His hair flew around his face. “Shut up!” he screamed. “Just shut up!”

“Whoa. Wait a minute—” Erin called.

Drew’s chest heaved up and down. He sucked in breath after breath. “Just shut up!” he screeched. “Trust me. I know what I’m doing!”

He started running again, lowering his shoulder like a football lineman, pushing a path through the tangled woods.

My head throbbed as I followed him. Was this a mistake? Was it? The question kept repeating in my mind.

Where was he leading us?

A few minutes later, we heard the drums.

Thrum thrum…thrum thrum…

The steady rhythm of the Indian drums. Closer this time. Close and all around us.

“Where is it coming from?” Charlotte asked. “Who is doing it?”

Thrum thrum…thrum…

Drew didn’t seem to hear it. He shoved a tree
limb with both hands and slipped past it.

The thud of the drums grew louder. It pounded in my ears.

So close…

And then up ahead, I saw a shimmering shadow figure float out from behind a tilted tree.

I blinked. My mouth dropped open.

The figure floated up like a wisp of fog.

And then another shadowy form floated beside it. The two figures sailed forward. Shimmering, twisting into different shapes.

A third figure sailed up from the ground. Four of them…five.

We stopped running. And gaped in horror as the figures shifted and changed.

Charlotte grabbed my arm. “They…look human!” she gasped.

“No—not human,” Erin whispered, hands pressed against her face. “They’re animals!”

The drums pounded. The steady
thuds
rang out through the trees.

“Black panthers,” I muttered, staring at the shifting shapes floating around us. “They look like big cats.”

But they walked on two legs now.

Circled us, floating through the trees, shimmering shadow figures. And the drums beat…beat…beat….

“Keep going!” Drew shrieked, unable to hide his
panic. “Don’t let them stop us!”

But the shadow figures floated up, rose up over us. Rose up in rhythm to the drums.

And then sank down…so silently…. But so heavily. The blackness so heavy, so suffocating…as they spread over us, covering us in darkness.

And then we were moving through the blackness. Pushed and guided. Forced through the woods. The drums—the steady, frightening drums—pounding in our ears.

“I…can’t see a thing!” I heard Erin cry.

“Where are we going?” David’s muffled voice seemed so far away.

We were walking over weeds and through the thick bushes. Pushed through the woods. And then I heard the gentle lapping of lake water.

I blinked hard. Struggled to see. But the shadowy forms covered us like heavy blankets.

When they lifted, we all let out startled cries.

“No!” Drew was the first to find his voice. He opened his mouth in an angry cry—

—as Uncle Brian rose up in front of us.

The shimmering, dark forms had vanished. They had brought us back to the center of camp.

And now we huddled close together as Uncle
Brian—his camp T-shirt stretched tight over his big frame—glared angrily at us.

Behind him, several grim-faced counselors stood in a line. Their eyes were alert. Their bodies tensed, as if expecting a fight.

I turned and saw the other campers crowded behind us. Their faces were angry. They muttered quietly to each other.

“Drew the Shmoo!” a boy shouted.

“Get him! Get him!” another camper urged.

And then someone heaved a rock. It hit Drew in the back. He cried out and staggered forward, almost falling into Uncle Brian.

The campers cheered gleefully.

Why are they so angry at Drew? I wondered. What is going on here?

With a growl, Drew reached down to pick up the rock. He pulled back his arm to heave it at the cheering campers.

But the counselors quickly surrounded him. They grabbed the rock away. Two counselors gripped Drew tightly by the shoulders.

He tried to squirm free. But they held him in place.

Uncle Brian scowled at Drew, his tiny black eyes cold and angry. “If you think you’ve seen trouble before…” he rasped. “You haven’t seen anything yet!”

I glanced at Charlotte. She was trembling, biting
her bottom lip. I knew we were both thinking the same thing: Drew told the truth. Uncle Brian
is
evil.

A chill rolled down my body. What was going to happen to us now?

“Drew, listen to me.” Uncle Brian said. “You know what you have done. You know it cannot be allowed.”

Drew furiously struggled to twist free from the counselors who held him. “I hate you! I hate you all!” he screamed. He spit at Uncle Brian but missed.

Uncle Brian stood his ground. His scowl grew even angrier. “Do you think we can allow you to break the rules?” he boomed, glaring at Drew. “Did you really think you could get away with this?”

“I don’t care!” Drew screamed. “I hate you! You’ve all been so horrible to me. Just because I’m not like you. Just because I
hate
this camp!”

With a desperate lunge, he broke free. He ducked past the counselors and started to run.

But Uncle Brian moved with surprising speed. He leaped at Drew and tackled him to the ground.

Will helped Uncle Brian to his feet. Three other counselors held on to Drew.

“I don’t care! I don’t care!” Drew wailed. “I want this to end. I want it all to end! I don’t care what happens to any of us!”

“Hold him tight!” Uncle Brian ordered breathlessly. He clenched and unclenched his fists at his sides. “I’ll deal with him in a minute.”

The counselors dragged Drew away from Uncle Brian. They backed him up against a tall stack of canvas tents.

Behind us, the campers cheered and hooted.

“Okay, break it up,” Uncle Brian shouted. He waved them away. “The fun and games are over. Everything is okay now. Back to your cabins. Go!”

Still laughing and cheering, the boys spread out, making their way to their bunks.

As I watched them leave, a wave of fear swept over me. We were alone with Uncle Brian now. What was he going to do to us?

Was he going to lock us up with Drew?

Drew told the truth, I realized. Drew tried to warn us that we were in terrible danger.

We had finally listened to him—too late. What were the shadowy forms that captured us? Who was playing the Indian drums that pounded so close while we were covered in blackness?

It was all too puzzling, too frightening. My head spun.

I gazed up to find Uncle Brian stomping toward us, his fists swinging at his sides. “Now it’s your turn,” he boomed.

I took a deep breath. I forced myself to speak. “Tell us. What is going on here?” I choked out. “Are you really holding all of these campers prisoner?”

Uncle Brian narrowed his eyes coldly at me. “Yes,” he replied. “I am.”

I gasped.

“You can’t do this!” Charlotte screamed.

Uncle Brian raised a hand to silence her. “I should explain,” he said, lowering his voice. “The campers are not exactly prisoners. We’re
all
prisoners, in a way.”

“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice shrill and trembling.

Uncle Brian crossed his beefy arms in front of him. “It’s sort of a long story,” he said, sighing.

“He won’t tell you the truth!” Drew shouted from behind us. He had three counselors holding him in place.

“Yes, I will,” Uncle Brian said. “It started a long time ago, many years before Camp Evergreen was built. This had been Native American land for hundreds of years. When the natives were forced to leave, they left spirits behind. Spirits to protect the land.”

The drums, I thought. The drums we heard…. Were they played by Native American spirits? Was it possible?

“No one knew it at the time,” Uncle Brian continued. “But Camp Evergreen was built on their sacred grounds. Twenty-five years ago, when we all arrived to start camp for the first year, we had frightening visitors.”

Behind us, Drew let out an angry cry. “Do I really have to hear this again?”

“Yes, I want you to hear it,” Uncle Brian replied sharply. He turned back to us. “Angry spirits came out of the woods. They covered the camp in shadow. They planned to murder us all—campers and counselors. And take back the land they were there to protect. But I made a deal with them to keep us alive.”

“A deal?” I asked. “A deal with the angry spirits?”

He nodded solemnly. “Yes. Try to understand. The spirits cast a powerful spell on us. Under the spell, Camp Evergreen disappears—except for two days a year. For most of the year, all of us—
all
of us—sleep a deep sleep.

“We wake up when our two days come around,” he continued. “We’re not any older. We all enjoy two wonderful days of summer camp. We eat all we want, and play sports, and enjoy the outdoors. We don’t even feel as if we’ve been asleep for three hundred sixty-three days.”

My friends and I stared at Uncle Brian in silence. Could he be telling the truth? I glanced behind us and saw Drew squirming uncomfortably, a scowl on his face.

“The spirits allow us to live,” Uncle Brian continued, “as long as we follow two rules. One, we must keep the land untouched. As clean and perfect as when we found it.”

He sighed. “The second rule is that we all must stay. If anyone leaves the camp and tries to return to the real world, the spell will be broken. We will all disappear forever.”

Uncle Brian turned and glared at Drew. “Everyone here loves Camp Evergreen. Everyone loves being able to go to summer camp forever. We all are willing to follow the rules of the spirits. Everyone but Drew.”

“I never wanted to go to camp in the first place!” Drew cried. “My parents forced me!”

“We knew Drew would try to escape,” Uncle Brian said, turning back to us. “That’s why we locked him up when you arrived. We have to stay together. We can’t let anyone leave. Do you understand? Do you kids understand what you almost did by helping Drew escape?”

“We—we almost killed everyone!” Charlotte murmured.

Uncle Brian nodded. “Yes. You didn’t know what you were doing. But if you had gotten away we would have all perished.”

A thought flashed into my mind. A frightening thought. My throat tightened. I took a deep breath. “Uncle Brian,” I said softly. “Does this mean that my friends and I will never leave?”