Clone Camp!

by B. A. Frade

  I didn’t want to say anything, but hadn’t he noticed that Ethan hadn’t spoken a word till this moment?

  Then Noah noticed. “Wait,” he said with a moan. “Oh no! You’re one of those, aren’t you?”

  “Those?” I asked.

  “My parents have superfans.” Noah looked to Ethan, who slowly nodded. “They call themselves hugnuts.”

  “I’m a tree-hugging hugnut.” Ethan looked at Noah. “I don’t know what to say when I’m around you,” he admitted. “When I first heard you were here, I was excited. Your parents are awesome cool.” His face was happy, then changed. “I admired you because you get to be with them every day—you’re so lucky!” He paused, lowered his voice, and added, “Then I was in the boat that sank.”

  “Funny prank, right?” Noah glared at me, waiting for Ethan’s answer.

  “No,” Ethan said. “Wet and cold.” He added, “I lost three rocks in the lake.” Ethan frowned. “They were my favorites. Two sedimentary and one metamorphic.”

  “Noah, you owe Ethan three extra-cool rocks,” I said.

  “But I saved the kid from the infirmary!” Noah protested.

  “Uh,” Becky interrupted. “There’s some question about who saved who in the infirmary.…”

  Noah waved her off.

  “Three rocks, Noah.” I wasn’t going to let this injustice pass. “And you should offer him a video chat with your parents.”

  Becky was on my side, so Noah caved.

  “Sure. Whatever. But first we need to get out of this mess,” Noah said, focusing us back on task. “Okay, so we just saw Jayesh pass by and come out of the infirmary. What does that mean?”

  “They circled back?” I suggested. A possessed journal was enough of a logical leap for me. I couldn’t wrap my head around another supernatural occurrence. “How about this: Jayesh is a twin, and you didn’t know it, Noah.”

  “Can’t be.” Noah shook his head.

  “Come on. No more chatter.” Becky leapt to her feet and was moving fast toward the infirmary door. “Operation Book Back is a go!”

  Sydney and the second Jayesh were gone. They’d probably gone to the director’s office to report that campers were missing.

  “We don’t have long,” Noah said, bringing up the rear as we entered the infirmary building. “Let’s get the book and get away.”

  The infirmary was empty, and the book was right where Noah had left it. I was so relieved. Operation Book Back was a huge success. Until the infirmary door opened.

  We each dove beneath a cot. I was getting tired of hiding. Since we’d found the book, this was the third time, or the fourth time, we’d crashed to the ground. My knees were starting to hurt.

  I peeked out from under the bed to see that the two who entered were Sydney and Jayesh. Then again, Samantha and Sydney looked a lot alike, and from this angle, I couldn’t be sure which twin had arrived. And if Noah was wrong and Jayesh also had a twin brother, it could have been: Samantha and Jayesh 2. Or Sydney and Jayesh 2. Or Samantha and the original Jayesh.

  They came in and Samantha/Sydney sat down on the bed above me. The springs creaked as the bed sagged closer to the floor.

  Jayesh/Jayesh 2 sat over Noah.

  That way they were facing each other, on the two beds farthest from the door, and with the door to the infirmary still open, Becky and Ethan could easily slip outside. Only thing stopping them was a good distraction.

  Noah signaled Becky. She gave him a thumbs-up as he slid the journal across the floor, and she snagged it. Just in case anything happened, she’d run away as fast as she could with the book.

  Now for the distraction. But what?

  I considered coughing. I could get caught and taken back to the movie. That wouldn’t be so bad. No, no. It was a terrible thought, and I pushed it aside immediately. No Scaremaster brainwashing movies. And yet, if I got caught, the others could escape.

  I thought of other escape plans until my brain ached, but I couldn’t come up with another idea. I was going to have to give myself away for the sake of the others. Determined to be the sacrifice, I scooted forward slightly, thinking I’d just pop up and start screaming like my pants were on fire, when, suddenly, a rock clinked against the windowpane.

  I turned to see that Ethan was gone! That kid was really quiet and proved it by being the first to escape. Now he was making a distraction for the rest of us.

  Samantha/Sydney got up and went to the window to look out. She pulled back the black paper and said, “Someone’s out there.”

  “One of the inmates?” Jayesh/Jayesh 2 asked.

  I saw Noah and Becky exchange glances at the word “inmates,” as if being in the infirmary was meant to be some kind of jail. I wondered if, by morning, Spike was going to be running the infirmary instead of the kitchen.

  A second rock hit the window and Jayesh/Jayesh 2 went over to investigate with Samantha/Sydney. They looked outside.

  Becky took advantage of the situation. She held the Scaremaster’s book close to her chest and quick, like a ninja, slipped out the door. The door closed behind her. At first I was flipping out because she’d shut us inside! But then I realized that by slamming the door, Becky drew the counselors’ attention. The two of them rushed outside to find out who had thrown the rock and if it was the same person who had slammed the door.

  As they rounded the back of the building, Noah and I hurried out the front. Becky and Ethan were gone, but Becky had left us a clue to where they went. One of Noah’s candy wrappers was on the ground. It would have looked like trash to the counselors, but it was a signal to us!

  Noah and I didn’t stop running until we were in his cabin. Becky and Ethan were there waiting. We waited in silence a few moments to make sure we hadn’t been followed. Then, when the coast felt clear, sat in a small circle in the middle of the wooden floor.

  Noah took the journal from Becky and opened it to the first page.

  The Scaremaster had written a new story. And it was chilling.

  Once upon a time, there was a boy named Noah and a girl named Kaitlin. They had two friends, Becky and Ethan.

  “How does it know that?” Ethan asked, even though Noah had already explained.

  “It’s possessed,” I said. It was getting easier to admit that the rules of the universe no longer applied to our situation.

  Noah went on reading:

  These naive children are about to learn a very big lesson:

  The general issues commands.

  The captains obey the general and lead the soldiers.

  The soldiers make books for the captains.

  The captains give the books to the general.

  Every day the general recruits new captains and new soldiers.

  These soldiers will make more books.

  The prisoners do not know what is happening.

  More and more books will be made every day.

  And when the books are done, the general will have the largest army in the world.

  As for Noah, Kaitlin, Becky, and Ethan, their fate is grim. They are the enemies. When the sun sets, all enemies will be doomed.

  “The Scaremaster tells the worst stories,” Noah said, putting down the book. “This one is like bad, confusing poetry.”

  Becky asked if she could see the book. “No, it’s still a story,” she said. “A very scary short story.”

  I had the vibe the Scaremaster was speaking in a language Becky understood. “Are your parents in the military?” I asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” Noah said. With a glance at Becky, he explained, “No offense, but you talk like a soldier.”

  She knit her eyebrows, and a shadow fell over her face. “My dad and mom met when he was stationed at a base near her university in China. When they moved to the States, we thought he’d have an office job and stay around, but now Dad has been deployed for nearly two years. Every time he’s supposed to return, he gets a new assignment.”

  I knew some military families in my neighborhood. It wa
s really hard for kids to only see their mom or dad once in a while on a computer screen. As much as I complained about my parents’ hovering, I was certain Becky would have traded places with me in a heartbeat.

  Ethan pointed at the journal and asked her, “Can you tell us what the story means?”

  Becky read it out loud again. Then she said, “This is about the chain of command—my parents talk about that all the time. It’s how a military gets its orders: The soldiers listen to the captains. The captains have to report back to the generals. It seems to me that the Scaremaster is setting himself up as the ultimate general.” Becky considered what she was saying. “But this is all wrong,” she told us. “As a soldier, my dad is helping to make the world a better place. I don’t get all this doomed stuff.” She added, “There are also a lot of other ranks like majors, lieutenants, corporals… I could go on all day. Plus, there are ranks within the ranks. You’d think the Scaremaster would know all that!”

  “It’s a metaphor,” I replied. I might not be the same kind of writer as the Scaremaster, but still, an investigative journalist is also a writer. “I think he’s saying that whatever he’s up to will be over at sundown, like he warned us. And…” I had another thought. “‘Doomed’ might mean that there will be no more fun, not just at this camp, but all the camps around the lake.” It might be bigger. “Or in the whole world.”

  “How could the Scaremaster get to all camps, everywhere?” Becky asked, raising the book and rotating it in her hands. “He’s only telling stories in this one journal.”

  “He’s making more books.” That was Ethan. He shivered the instant the words were out. And in that moment, the Scaremaster’s entire plan became clear to me. By the look in Noah and Becky’s eyes, they got it too.

  “The campers are going to build a factory,” I said. “They are clearing the cemetery and laying out wood for construction. Other supplies, probably leather and pages, were taken to the maintenance shed.”

  “They will probably start with a few books made in the SRC, then move to the factory once it’s done!” Becky took off her knit cap and rubbed it across her forehead. “Oh man, this is bad.”

  “The counselors, like the story’s captains, will be overseeing operations.” Noah took off his hat as well. We were quickly losing our commando look.

  I was not going to give up. I tugged my cap even more firmly onto my head and said, “The Scaremaster’s going to send journals to all the summer camps and try to create more and more Scaremaster minions making journals. Soon he’ll have enough leather journals to give to kids everywhere. Whatever he writes in those stories comes true.” I gave my hat another tug. “If he succeeds, the Scaremaster will take over the world with his own scary tales!”

  “Our mission is clear,” Becky said, standing with hands on her hips. “We have to stop the Scaremaster.” She and Noah put their caps back on. Ethan made sure his was tight. We were ready.

  Noah took the book and wrote to the Scaremaster:

  I have some questions.

  The Scaremaster immediately wrote back in his messy, scratchy scrawl:

  The time for answers is over.

  Just one question?

  No.

  I was going to ask anyway. I took the pencil:

  What do you want?

  The end.

  After that, no matter what else I wrote, the Scaremaster didn’t reply. He wasn’t going to answer anything, but we’d figured out most of what we needed to know.

  We knew who he was: the Scaremaster, a scary storyteller who could control events through his journal.

  We knew what he wanted: a factory to make journals.

  And now we knew why.

  Noah summed it up: “With Scaremaster journals throughout the world, the Scaremaster can be in many places at once. He can write his stories, and anyone who reads them would be manipulated by him to do whatever he wants. It’s like he’s cloning his evil self.…”

  “Cloning… right,” I echoed.

  My investigator brain started to review what we knew: The Scaremaster was manipulating everything.

  The campers were being reprogrammed. But how were the counselors involved?

  They weren’t in the SRC watching the movie. During the food fight, Noah had seen counselors watching a different video in the staff lounge, and I’d seen others walking around camp. Sometimes we ran into the same counselors twice.

  “Noah, you’re a genius!” I leapt across our little circle and gave him a hug. “Guys! The counselors are being cloned!”

  Chapter Ten

  Noah struggled to break free. “You’re suffocating me,” he complained.

  I was hugging him really hard, but he deserved the biggest, best hug ever.

  Letting go, I rocked back on my heels and sat with folded legs. “The counselors are in a comatose trance. The movie they’re watching has trapped them. The clone counselors are taking over.” This was big. Bigger than I ever imagined. “What are we going to do?”

  “Like Noah said before—we have to change the Scaremaster’s story’s ending,” Ethan said. Now that we’d bonded over a common goal, Ethan was talking more.

  “We can’t change the story,” Becky told him. “The battle’s begun. It’s the four of us versus an army of clones. We must fight.”

  “I have an idea.” Noah dragged his trunk out again. “The Scaremaster isn’t the only one with a journal.”

  “Noah Silvetti’s Big Book o’ Pranks?” I asked, curiosity rising.

  “Exactly,” Noah said, turning through the pages of his spiral notebook. I wasn’t surprised to find that it that really did have a cover made of flower seeds. “We need to trap the counselor clones and get them out of the way before we free the real counselors.” He began reading off prank ideas from his book. “Put a bed on the roof? That would be annoying, but I doubt we can catch them that way. Duct tape them together?” Neither of those ideas were what we needed.

  He read on, “Smear Vaseline on the doorknobs. Play trumpet at three a.m.” He shook his head. “These are basic pranks, not a way to trap a whole group of evil counselor clones. I need bigger ideas—like maybe we can chase them into a pit?” Noah rejected that. He turned a few more pages. “Trap them in a net?” He rejected that too.

  “Anything else in there?” Becky asked, seeing that he was getting toward the end of the notebook.

  “Six pages of things you can do with shaving cream,” Noah said, wrinkling his eyebrows.

  I could feel time slipping past. The longer we took to come up with something, the closer the campers were to becoming evil minions. The movie wouldn’t go on forever. In fact, I was suddenly worried about how much time there was left. Outside, the sunlight was already getting dimmer.

  “Pick one, Noah,” I said in a frustrated rush of words. “We gotta get going.” Then it came to me. I didn’t even say anything. I just smiled big, with all my teeth showing.

  “You look like you know how to trap the clones,” Ethan said.

  “We aren’t going to trap them at all,” I said. Then seeing everyone staring at me, I pointed outside where the sun was already getting lower on the horizon. “We’re running out of time.” I opened the door and checked for any movement outside. After I felt like the coast was clear, I said, “We have to hurry.”

  They trusted me enough to follow.

  We headed out, but then I stopped so fast Becky bumped into me. I looked past her to Noah and asked, “Do you have any plastic gloves?”

  “Of course I do. My parents insisted I bring them. They wouldn’t let me come here without a promise to bring back multiple different plant specimens,” Noah said, hurrying back to his trunk. “Finally, something I packed for the summer will be useful!”

  This was the most important investigation of my life.

  First, we needed confirmation that what we’d figured out together was true.

  We went by the SRC and checked that the campers were still watching the movie. That was good—in a bad way
. They shouldn’t be stuck like that, but it was good that they weren’t moving, so we knew where to find them. And I was relieved to discover that I didn’t feel pulled to go watch the movie with them this time.

  Then we went to the staff lounge, the last place Noah had seen our normal counselors. They were there, just like he’d described. Through a small slit in a blackened window, we could see the entire camp staff sitting on couches, pillows or on the floor, entranced by a movie. Again good, but bad.

  I was seriously worried about running into the counselor clones, but we didn’t. That was also good. Though I did wonder where they were, I was sure the Scaremaster needed them for when the movie ended. I crossed my fingers and hoped my plan would succeed before that happened.

  We hurried to the meadow beyond the camp property. Noah had the Scaremaster’s journal. I asked him for it. We sat on the same flat rock where we’d spoken to the Scaremaster… that same morning. Wow. So much had happened since we’d retrieved the book from the hollowed-out tree nearby.

  “Noah, we are going to need some of that poison ivy,” I said, remembering how the book seemed to recoil from it earlier.

  “Do you know how to pick it?” Noah asked Ethan. “You have to be careful.”

  “I learned all about nature’s natural defenses from Nina and John Silvetti’s first book, Back to the Basics,” Ethan said, blushing as he looked at Noah.

  “Ugh. I’d nearly forgotten.…” Noah looked at me and pointed his thumb at Ethan. “He’s a very happy hugnut.”

  “Don’t forget, you owe him a meet-up,” I said with a smile.

  Noah rolled his eyes. “My parents will love him.”