Surveying the lot, I walked to the bus and set my pack beside the others. Dr. Antos didn’t seem to be there, so I stood near the bus door a few feet from the only solo kid.
Tall, with dark hair and skin, the boy towered over me. I stole glances at him, noticing he wore a single strand of the same magnetic rocks as me on each wrist. His dark coloring and hard jawline reminded me of Theron, Hunter’s evil half-brother, and I moved a half step away. You’re being paranoid again, I thought.
Scanning the crowd, I realized there was no hiding. At school, I could pretend to be normal, but being with this group defined me as crazy. Unable to wait out the silence, I tucked my hair behind my ear and extended my hand out to him.
“I’m Camille.”
“Oh.” He took a half-step back.
“Wow, didn’t know I was that scary.” I brushed my hair behind my other ear.
“No, this is just a lot to take in. I’m Jude.” His blue eyes pierced into mine, and he extended his hand towards me.
I shook it and stuffed my hand back in my pocket. “Are you from Reykjavik?”
“No, from the States, Los Angeles.”
“Nice. First time in Iceland?” I rocked on my heels, unable to think of anything else to ask him.
“Yep.” He bobbed his head.
“You’re probably pretty jet lagged.”
“I got in couple of days ago to acclimate.”
“Nice.” Had I just said nice twice? Man, I was horrible at chit chat.
Wishing, I could slink away from him, I stood there, arms folded across my middle.
“You don’t have an accent. Have you lived here all your life?”
“No, I’m from the States. We’ve just been here a year.”
“Who dropped you off?”
“My brother. My mom was too upset to come.”
“Well, I just hopped on a plane, so…” He leaned closer. “Everyone else has a ton of people here. What’s with that? I’m thinking we may be the most well-adjusted of the bunch.”
I scanned the faces of the other campers. Each one had a strained expression, some bordering on terrified. Several of the girls were crying. Wondering if they were being forced to attend the session, I counted my lucky stars that I wanted to be there.
“I don’t see anyone else with these on.” He held up his arm.
“We could be the real crazy ones.”
“I see you’re a glass-half-full type.”
“Sorry, bad week.”
“I’m guessing we’re all in that boat. Option one, stay home and take the zombie meds. Option two, go to Iceland. That was a no brainer.”
“Exactly.” I smiled at him.
“You know Iceland has the highest rate of depression in the world.”
“Wow, I need to move back to the States.”
“You’re crazier because your bracelet is thicker.”
“What?” I held my wrist beside his. “Your two equal my one.”
“Maybe.” He squinted his eyes.
“I’m lost. Are we trying to be crazy or not?”
“Yeah, I’m not sure. I just know I got a free trip to Iceland and out of a month of school.”
Just then, Dr. Antos appeared from behind the bus. The hiking clothes looked odd after seeing him in a silk suit the previous day. Glancing in our direction, he scanned the rest of the lot, stuck his fingers between his lips, and let loose a loud whistle.
“Say your goodbyes campers and gather round.” He waved everyone to the bus and then turned to us. “You guys can get your packs underneath and take seats on the bus. Pulling an electronic tablet from his bag, he tapped on the screen.
“Guess this is us. Ladies first.” Jude stepped back, giving me access to my backpack.
Loading it in the storage area, I fit my small pack on my shoulders and entered the bus, walking to the back.
“Mind if we sit together?” Jude asked as we reached the last seat. “Looks like every seat will be filled.”
“That’s fine.” I rolled my eyes to myself, thinking of how Eva would assess the situation. Man, he’s hot, she’d say. Good job nabbing the cute guy first. But I wasn’t there to gain a boyfriend who lived half a world away. My focus needed to be on staying med and hallucination free.
“So, Camille?” He started when we were settled. “Not Cami? Any nicknames I should know about?”
“Nope.” I looked out the bus window, studying the other campers as they loaded their gear and got on the bus. I started sizing everyone, making note of any seemingly hostile personas to stay away from.
Once everyone was seated, Dr. Antos took a head count and introduced our four counselors, two girls and two guys. With twenty campers, we’d sleep five to a tent with a counselor. He reviewed all the rules, repeating three times that romantic relationships of any kind were strictly forbidden, and the potential punishment was being sent home.
“Everybody good?” he asked, slapping the headrest in front of him. When there was no reply, he continued. “Great, so we’re off.”
Pulling out of the lot, the bus weaved to the highway. I was excited to see more of the island, as we hadn’t strayed far from the city. With Mom’s work schedule and our vacations spent in the States with grandparents, there hadn’t been much time. I’d planned on asking Mom for a trip around the island as a graduation present but figured this would be it for me.
Jude and I exchanged a couple of sentences, but mostly I watched the scenery. The drive took just over an hour, and we pulled into the campsite at a little past five.
Dr. Antos stood as the bus stopped. “Okay. Here are the team assignments. Teams will switch every week. The work schedule will be posted at the mess tent.” He proceeded to call campers’ names, and each joined their team and lead counselor. Jude, myself, two other girls, and a guy formed a team led by a male counselor named Allen.
“Okay.” Allen held out his fist to each of us. “Quick intros. Then we’re up for supper duty.” He pointed at me. “C for Camille, go. Who you are. Where you’re from. One notable fact about yourself.”
“Hmm, well I’m Camille. I’m originally from Los Angeles but live in Reykjavik now, and I run cross country.”
“Nice.” Allen commented. “Always Camille, or does Cami work?”
“Just Camille,” I told him. My alter ego name popped into my head, and I smashed the memory down. Ivy had not been invited to this outing.
“I’m Jude.” He waved to the rest of the group. “I’m also from L.A. This is my first time in Iceland. I’m kind of big into martial arts. That’s about it.”
The other two girls, Asa and Frida, were native to Iceland, as was George. Allen led us to the mess tent, and we divided food prep chores. They had the food trucked in fresh daily. All natural, organic, and unprocessed, the meal that night included potatoes, carrots, kale, berries, and lamb. Preferring not to think about young sheep, I chose to chop the vegetables and add them to boiling water for the stew. George and Jude took over meat duty, Frida and I chopped potatoes and carrots, and Asa appointed herself manager.
“Can you say obsessive compulsive control freak?” Frida asked as she plunked vegetables into the boiling water.
I shot her a mean look. “We’re all in this together.”
“I guess so.” Frida rolled her eyes, and I prayed we weren’t in the same sleeping tent.
“You talk to Jude? He is super hot. Hopefully he’s not too crazy. What are you in for anyway?”
Biting my lip, I took a deep breath and got it out of the way. “Schizophrenia.”
“No way. You think he is too? You guys have the same bracelets on. Or are you already a thing? Oh, my god, you are? I’m so—”
“No.” I stopped her rant. “I just met him. I don’t know what he’s here for.”
“Schizophrenia, man that’s crazy stuff. My family is just trying to get me clean. You see me start shaking, call the nurse, okay?”
“Got it.”
Frida had sized up everyone and ora
ted her opinions as we worked. As cooks, we turned the food over to the servers and were the first to get our trays.
“This food looks amazing, if I do say so myself.” Jude set his plate down and sat beside me. Red juice pooled in the center of the slice of lamb, and I diverted my eyes. “What’s wrong? Are you a vegetarian?”
“Not usually.”
“I’m a rare-meat guy myself.”
“I can see that.”
I stuffed a bite of potato in my mouth. They offered milk, and I figured it would serve as my protein for the night. After dinner, we built a fire, were assigned tents, and pitched them by the light from the flames. Asa, Frida, Inga, Janna, myself, and our counselor, Hilda, ended up making a good team. Within an hour, we had our tent pitched, cots set up with sleeping bags, and gear organized around the central heater. The site’s restrooms and showers were a five-minute hike, and I invited Asa to make the trek with me.
“Frida was talking about me, wasn’t she?” Asa said as soon as we were out of earshot.
“Not more than anyone else.”
“What’s her story?”
“I think I’d rather let her tell you.”
“Big on privacy, eh?”
“I just think everyone has a right to tell their own story or not.”
“I’m glad we got in a tent together. You seem nice.”
“Thanks.” I rolled my eyes, thankful for the darkness. Letting my head fall back, I gazed at the dark sky covered with a blanket of specks of light. Clear nights were rare in the fall, and I savored the spectacular view. The weather called for rain the next five days, and I inhaled the crisp night air, cherishing the smell of dirt underfoot.
“You’re not much of a talker, are you?” Asa brought me out of my thoughts.
“I guess not.”
She proceeded to tell me her life story, leading up to her most recent anxiety attack. Counting my lucky stars, since I had at least half of a well-adjusted family, I nodded and expressed my empathy where appropriate. Her story continued as we washed for bed and made our way back to the tent.
“Thanks for listening. This is kind of a freaky thing for me.”
“I bet we’re all thinking the same thing about now.”
Each camper had fifteen minutes with Dr. Antos, and I read on my cot till my time came.
“Camille, how are you?” He stood as I entered his tent. Unlike ours with the six cots, his held only one bed, a heater, a table holding a computer, a lamp, and several camp chairs.
“I’m good.” I sat as he did.
“Glad to hear. How are you feeling?”
“Fine. No buzzing, no hallucinations. Although I did think of Ivy when they asked if I ever had a nickname.”
“But how do you feel about being here?”
“Are you kidding? Like I won the lottery.”
“And you feel comfortable with the other campers?”
“I’m getting to know them. There’s such a range of issues.”
“It’s good to have a mixed group. You can help each other.”
“What about my meds for tonight?”
“I want to keep you on half dose until morning. Tomorrow we’ll do a trial with none. Does that sound okay?”
“Yes.”
“Moving forward, we’ll talk about your hallucinations in detail so maybe we can root out the trigger.”
“Okay, thanks.”
I left the tent, wondering if I really cared about what triggered the visions. I couldn’t pinpoint anything different in my life. But who knew, I wasn’t the expert. I guessed knowing a cause might help me in the future.
Exhausted, I fell asleep and woke to a clanging bell. A lantern lit our tent, and I pulled on my socks and jacket while still in my sleeping bag. I slapped my watch on my wrist and noted the time. Six thirty, the green numbers read. The sun wouldn’t come up till nearly eleven, and while I’d gotten used to it in Reykjavik, the darkness outside the tent was unsettling. Braiding my hair, I fit it under my hat and headed out. The cold air engulfed me, and I shivered despite my warm layers.
“I don’t think we’re supposed to go anywhere alone.” Asa’s voice reached me within a few feet.
“Oh, yeah, I forgot, thanks.”
“How long have you been in Iceland?”
“That obvious?”
“You have an American accent.”
“A little over a year.”
“I want to go to college in the States. Get away from this dreadful darkness.”
“It does wear on you.”
We freshened up and headed to the mess tent, waiting for our jobs as servers.
“Well, we can see who the overachievers are.” Frida’s voice broke the silence.
George and Jude followed her in and joined us at the table.
“The food smells good,” Jude noted.
“I hope they don’t have any serial killers on cook duty. I really don’t want to be poisoned. Hey”—Frida turned to face me—“will you do my hair?”
I sat behind her and braided her hair and then Asa’s. They both had dark coarse hair, and I predicted the style would last a week. Mine, on the other hand, would be sliding out within the hour.
“I’m good,” George said as I fit an elastic band on the end of Asa’s braid.
“Yeah, me too.” Jude slid his cap off and ran his fingers through his short dark hair.
“Nice muscles,” Frida half-whispered.
I cleared my throat and headed for the food prep area to get an idea of when they needed us. Even though relationships between campers were forbidden, I hadn’t read Frida as the follow-the-rules type. I planned to stay far away from her antics. Noting the fresh fruits, cheeses, and warm rolls, I realized breakfast prep looked a lot easier than our evening meal duty. It was too bad. With the rotation, we’d be cooking dinners every night for a week. Of course, the evening cleanup would tend to be the worst too, so I figured we dodged that bullet.
“You don’t like Frida, do you?” Jude’s hot breath on my neck made me shiver.
“I’m here to get off my meds and clear my head. Frida’s mojo is counter-productive for me.”
“You read people well.”
“Not sure it would’ve taken a rocket scientist.”
“What of Asa?”
“She seems nice.”
“Stay away from George.” His blue eyes pierced mine. “He seems like a quiet meek fellow. But he has something brewing up top, if you know what I mean.”
“Thanks for the warning.” I grabbed a serving spoon and handed him one as the cooking crew set trays of mixed fruit in front of us.
After breakfast, we were given a few minutes to freshen up and receive meds. Dr. Antos stood at the front of a long line, dispensing everyone’s dose.
“How was your night?” he asked as I stepped up to the table.
“Good. Slept like the dead.”
“Wonderful. No meds for you today. If you have any symptoms, come find me immediately. We’ll have a one on one every afternoon at four.”
“Great, thanks.”
“Anytime.”
I walked away feeling confident. In my tent, I recorded the events of the past evening and morning in a journal Mom got for me. I liked the cover, as it was an image of Michelangelo’s creation of Adam painting. It seemed she’d meant to remind me that someone was looking out for me.
This had been the other major difference between Mom and Dad. While she was a devout Christian, Dad tended to be more of a spiritualist. He believed in the power of nature, tides, and celestial events to shape our feelings, motivations, and ultimately one’s destiny.
“You’re not writing about me, are you?” Frida plopped down beside me.
I studied her for a second. Holding my book up, I pretended to read. “Frida is a curious girl with dark hair and dark eyes. She insists on knowing everything about everyone and is horribly paranoid.” I let the journal drop to the bed. “No, I’m not.” I rolled my eyes.
“Fine.�
� She stuck her tongue out at me. “But you like me better than Asa, right?”
“I like you the same.”
The other girls filed into the tent, and Hilda called a group meeting. We sat in a circle and introduced ourselves. Janna and Inga were also from Reykjavik. Janna seemed young, with a thin face and fingers. Every time I’d seen her, she’d been shivering and still was, even with the heat from the stove. She described dealing with anxieties by over exercising and restricting her food intake.
“Well, I’m the officially crazy one,” Inga started when Janna finished her turn. “I have these panic attacks, and I can’t get out of bed for days.
“Sweetie, you got nothing on this broad.” Frida pointed at me. “Psychology 101, schizophrenia trumps everything else.”
“Frida.” Hilda scolded.
“Well, I’m just saying.”
When the group broke, Janna and Inga flanked me as we walked to the first all-camp activity.
“So, you really have multiple personalities?” Janna started.
“No, that’s different. I see and hear things that aren’t there, hallucinations, sort of like dreams, but I’m awake and they seem real.”
“What do you see?” Inga asked.
“Just people.”
“But you’re not dangerous, right?”
“No.”
“Of course, a crazy person would say that.” Inga quickened her step and pulled ahead of us. She turned back after a couple of steps. “It’s not you, Camille. I’m just trying to get a spot by Jude.”
Frida jumped on my back, and I nearly fell to the ground before I caught her legs and steadied myself.
“A little warning would have been nice.”
“Hey, Inga!” Frida yelled.
“Yeah.” Inga turned back to us.
“You notice that Jude and schizo here wear the same type of bracelet?”
“What?”
“Yep, he’s just as crazy. Might want to stay away from him too.” Frida slid down my back to the ground. “You can thank me for that later.” She planted a kiss on my cheek.
“I don’t care about Jude.”
“But you were thinking of it.” She lifted her eyebrows.
“No, you were, along with every other girl here.”
“Not the girls that like girls.”
“I guess. Did Jude warn you about George?”
The Kingdom Journals Complete Series Box Set Page 30