Escape from Camp Boring

by Tom Mitchell

  We returned to the bunkhouse. I didn’t know what I was going to do, but I knew these free hours were my one window of opportunity to devise my last-chance plan to get Robbie’s art project back to him in time. Yes, all my plans over the past week had failed catastrophically. But that wouldn’t matter as long as this one worked.

  Lying on my bunk, I tried visualising what to do next. Visualisation, our PE teacher says, can be a powerful tool for elite athletes. And elite schemers, apparently, because somehow, as I cast my mind back over the day, a new and wild idea started forming.

  Had I been smarter, I might have kept this new idea to myself. Instead I called Alexa over. Perhaps, on some level, I hoped she would persuade me to abandon this ridiculous plan. Or, failing that, might help me execute it.

  ‘I’ve got an idea,’ I whispered.

  ‘So have I,’ said Alexa. ‘I was talking to Ellie and Zed just now. I told them about your brother’s hard drive, about how everything will be ruined if you don’t get it back to him by tomorrow.’

  ‘What?’ I asked. ‘Why’d you do that?’ It almost felt like she’d betrayed a secret.

  Faltering, Alexa blushed and looked at her feet. ‘Well … I thought we could go and talk to Faulkner together,’ she said. ‘And—’

  ‘And complain about the tennis too,’ interrupted Ellie, appearing on the other side of my bunk with Zed.

  Zed nodded. ‘And the way they looked when Zed asked if he could carry on weaving.’

  But then, before I could protest, Zed was pointing at the white cord that poked out from under my blanket.

  ‘Are those earphones?’ he asked.

  I quickly covered them up.

  ‘Have you got another phone?’ asked Ellie.

  ‘Will?’ gasped Alexa. ‘Did you bring … three?’

  ‘No. I …’ This ambush was not what I had in mind for You Time. I looked from face to face – sweet Alexa, sassy Ellie, vacant Zed. My voice fell. ‘I just like having them in my ears.’

  ‘What do you listen to?’ asked Zed, not mocking me. ‘Normally?’

  I cleared my throat. ‘Mainly this group called A Tribe Called Quest.’

  ‘“Can I Kick It?”?’ said Zed. ‘They’re sick.’

  ‘You know them? I mean … they are.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Ellie, ‘I hate to break this up but you two can fanboy about A Vibe Called Whatever later. We’re meant to be organising a group complaint to Faulkner. Honestly, this is a terrible place. It’s supposed to be a camp. It’s more like a prison. Should we go on strike? We could tell him we’re going on strike?’

  There was much head nodding from Alexa and Zed.

  I didn’t ask how she knew what prisons were like.

  ‘What do you think?’ asked Alexa. ‘Wanna come?’

  I sat up. ‘No. It won’t work. I’ve tried talking to him – he doesn’t listen.’

  Alexa frowned. ‘Well, what was your idea?’

  ‘My idea? Me. Getting my brother his hard drive back,’ I said, trying to convey with my glare that my plan hadn’t included Ellie and Zed.

  Ellie pounced on this. ‘How?’

  I sighed. Fine, if they really wanted to know, I’d tell them. I figured it would probably shake them off. Most kids don’t like stuff that requires effort. And it was only really adults that I needed to keep it secret from. ‘Okay. All I need is a pen and paper.’ I was faced with three frowns. ‘I mean … to explain. The plan will require more than that.’

  Nobody could find a pen and paper. It was decided that Alexa, the most innocent-looking of us four, would be sent to the office block for supplies. She was back in five minutes, successful, having told a smiling Faulkner that she wanted to write a poem about what trees can teach us.

  Leaning on Walden, I wrote:

  PLAN.

  And underlined it. Beneath this word, I wrote:

  I ESCAPE.

  ‘Really?’ said Alexa, turning to Ellie and Zed to share her surprise. ‘You’ll escape? How?’

  I pointed to the sketch under my words.

  ‘A magic carpet?’ asked Zed, full of wonder.

  ‘No. A raft.’

  ‘Why did you need the paper to explain that?’ asked Ellie.

  ‘I was going to sketch out the raft in more detail, but you lot were all staring and I lost confidence.’

  Suddenly Ellie was holding a piece of wood in my face. It was so close to my nose it was difficult to focus on.

  ‘What’s that?’ I asked.

  ‘A shank!’ whispered an awestruck Zed.

  ‘No,’ said Ellie. ‘I don’t even know what that is. But this is better … a sporf.’

  ‘What’s a sporf?’ asked Alexa.

  ‘It’s a spoon you can use as a fork and a knife,’ she said, nodding. ‘I made it during whittling. I know, right? We can use it in the escape plan.’

  I blinked like that meme. Had she said we? We?!?!?!

  ‘I can’t believe I’m saying any of this. But I’m losing my mind!’ Ellie went on. ‘I need out! The stuff they have us doing! I mean … we’re in the woods, okay. We’re meant to be rewilding, okay. But couldn’t they, like, design a single decent activity? And the amount of mosquito bites! I won’t show you but …’

  ‘The website had pictures of people building treehouses. Zed thought he’d be building treehouses.’

  ‘I need to escape,’ said Ellie.

  ‘We all do,’ said Alexa. ‘We all do.’

  And, already, I regretted sharing my idea.

  ‘Look,’ I said, holding up the piece of paper. ‘It says “I escape”. Not “we”. “I”. And I haven’t finished. I’m also planning on coming back here before anybody notices I’m gone. I can’t get in trouble again. I just can’t.’

  Ellie let out a whine like the mother of all mosquitoes. ‘I get that you’ve got your family issues, Will. I understand the importance of all that. But I’m coming on this raft, and I’m not returning. I can’t stand another minute here. It’s Hell. I need to speak to my father. We’re talking injustice here. It’s inhumane to have no tech at our age!’

  ‘And the food!’ said Alexa.

  ‘Tell me about it,’ said Ellie.

  ‘Look, Will, I always do what I’m told,’ said Alexa. ‘But I think it’s time to rebel. It would really send my mum a message.’

  ‘Are you guys hearing me?’ I said. ‘I can’t get in trouble again. That means not being exposed as the ringleader of a mass breakout.’

  ‘Whatever happens, we won’t snake you out. If you want to sneak back, we’ll pretend you had nothing to do with the escape,’ said Alexa. ‘Promise.’

  ‘What’s the worst that can happen?’ said Zed. ‘We fall off the raft? We get wet? We get wet every morning, people.’ Met with our confused looks, he added, ‘In the shower!’

  ‘And the showers here are just awful,’ said Ellie. ‘You may as well stand under a tap. There’s no way I’m not coming. How far away is town? Lily and Noah said it was no distance.’

  ‘Did they?’ I asked. ‘I didn’t—’

  ‘Zed’s coming,’ said Zed. ‘Team Zed.’

  ‘All three of you? Why not ask the whole camp?’ I said, staggered by how all this was working out. ‘No offence, but why do you want to come, Zed?’

  He licked his lips before speaking.

  ‘Sounds fun.’

  It was as if the others had never seen a prison-break movie. And, you know, even Paddington 2 is a prison-break movie. Later, at dinner, each one of the three morons gave me a knowing look, a secret thumbs up, a wink.

  Zed loved winking. Either that or he had something in his eye.

  Mouth clamped shut, I tried communicating anger with my eyes. This was difficult. I needed bigger redder ones. (Like Alexa.) Or for me and the others to know Morse code.

  By the time we’d finished our stew or, at least, moved the thick brown stuff around our bowls until Faulkner had eaten his steak and potato, I’d glared enough to stop the others acting like drunk
en mime artists.

  After dinner we returned to the makeshift projector at the far end and watched a ‘short’ film about the properties of wild plants. A woman from the nineties walked around a forest. She found plants and showed them to the camera and explained how they could be used to treat mild pain. Ironically she had one of those voices that hurt to listen to. I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who wanted to cry. Truly I’ll never moan about double maths again. It wasn’t just that the film went on forever (it did) but there was also actual, important foraging to get on with. Something I never thought I’d say.

  I had a vision. It was all there. When I closed my eyes, I could imagine speeding along the river all the way to town. Maybe ‘Scenario’ by Tribe was playing in the background. It felt super sweet.

  When the film finished, Faulkner stood in front of the screen and rubbed his hands. The projector covered him in white light, until he ordered Noah to get his butt in gear.

  ‘To some extent,’ he said, ‘this knowledge is even more important to your generation than it is mine. Unless cryogenics becomes affordable, I’ll be dead when the world ends. Some of you? You’ll still be around and you’ll need to know how to forage for medicinal plants, natural alternatives.’

  Someone shouted out, ‘Why won’t we be able to use regular medicine? My dad’s got a container of five hundred paracetamol under his bed.’

  Faulkner looked at Lily. After a few seconds, she realised that he wanted her to answer the question. ‘Because regular things will be destroyed,’ she said, her voice rising at the end. ‘By the floods?’

  Faulkner continued. ‘So, for your final activity of the day, you’ll split into groups and there’ll be a prize for the one that collects the most examples of the plants that our glamorous assistants have on their laminated cards. And don’t eat anything you find. In particular, the mushrooms. Okay?’

  Me, Alexa, Ellie and Zed organised into a team. And, instead of gathering plants, we hatched my plan.

  Having heard everyone’s accounts, I can confirm that the following is how the plan unfolded.

  I’d assigned Zed the role of weaver. Outside, he sat cross-legged, connecting the group’s earlier ‘mad alien placemats’ together. Adding these to his own, he was close to assembling a flat rectangle of woven reeds for the main part of the raft, about the size of a single bed. And in record time. Talk about hidden talent. (Unless he weaved before rewilding camp, which was a possibility because he wasn’t totally normal.)

  Faulkner, breaking from a nap to go to the loo, stopped to ask Zed what he was doing, why he wasn’t out searching for medicinal plants.

  ‘Zed is weaving,’ said Zed, not looking up. ‘Zed is crafting.’

  Faulkner grunted, trying to find fault, his natural reaction. He realised, however, that Zed was rewilding and could hardly be disciplined for that. He continued to the toilet.

  While this took place, Ellie and Alexa were on task sourcing the barrels that would give the raft buoyancy. They whispered behind the mess block, rolling two plastic containers away. Alexa sneezed. Ellie put a finger to her lips.

  ‘But I’m allergic to trees,’ whispered Alexa.

  Ellie’s quick legs and deceptively strong arms made easy work of the barrels. She didn’t break a sweat and she was sure to thank Alexa sarcastically for all her hard work. Apparently Alexa contemplated sending an email to Ellie when this was all over, explaining that sarcasm can really hurt people’s feelings.

  I found some old rope in a wheelbarrow. What I also really wanted, but didn’t find, was a big stick – despite being in a forest and looking for ages. It was annoying.

  Still, the first phase of my scheme was (more or less) complete.

  The medicinal plant hunt was won by the blue-haired pair who returned with leaves stuck to the underside of their trainers. Nobody else, even if they’d been trying (which was unlikely) had managed to find a single plant. The prize was a plastic bottle of ‘dandelion and burdock’, something that once upon a time people actually chose to drink, despite it tasting like ‘spicy dirt’ according to the winners.

  We weren’t back long, the day falling to twilight, before Lily came to the bunkhouse to explain she’d been ordered to lead an optional evening activity called ‘pine-cone yoga’.

  ‘It’s yoga but with a pine cone balanced on a part of your body. But, really, I won’t be offended if nobody comes. Like, honestly.’

  ‘Can I—’ said Noah, leaning against the doorframe.

  ‘Have you swept up?’ said Lily, not turning. ‘He said you had to sweep up.’

  They left and it wasn’t long before Alexa, Ellie and Zed came creeping to my bunk.

  ‘You’ll make the others suspicious,’ I hissed. ‘Always crowding around me.’

  Ellie shrugged. Zed picked his nose.

  ‘We’ll say we’re friends,’ said Alexa. ‘So what’s the plan?’

  ‘Well … we need to put the thing together first.’ I made sure I whispered. ‘We need to tie the reed platform to the barrels.’

  ‘Won’t take long,’ said Zed. ‘I’m a reed master now.’

  ‘So when do we leave?’ asked Ellie.

  ‘At night,’ I said. ‘Under the cover of darkness. I’ll wake you. But we need to be careful. We can’t be standing around chatting about it. We don’t know who’s watching.’

  They waited at my bed for a bit. They were smiling these hopeful smiles. I picked up Walden and pretended to read, waiting for them to drift away.

  Honestly, I almost told them what I was thinking.

  If I had any hope of getting the hard drive back to Robbie, I’d have to ditch my new friends.

  Later, I didn’t know the time but it was dark. It felt creepy enough to be proper late. I’d hidden under the blanket in my Nikes, trackies, T-shirt and waterproof jacket. Slipping silently from the bunk, I considered bringing my bag but decided it’d be too much hassle. I took my earphones – obviously. I took Mum’s torch. And I took Robbie’s hard drive. This was safe in a see-through plastic zip-lock bag, once home to sandwiches, found in a bin. The protection it provided was like wearing a baseball cap instead of a cycle helmet but it was better than nothing. It was a shame that his hard drive would end up smelling like egg but on grand quests such as this, compromises must be made.

  I hesitated at Alexa’s bunk. She was turned to the wall. I couldn’t see her face. Was I tempted to wake her? Well, yes. Escaping alone didn’t fill me with good vibes, after all. And it would be a pretty awesome statement to her mum if Alexa escaped. But she and the others could ride it out another day or two. She was safer here – putting her allergies to one side. Her coming along would only complicate the plan. (Robbie would probably tease me about her, for one thing.) And, I mean, I liked the others too. Even Ellie had something about her, despite the tennis and the attitude. Sure, I felt bad that they’d helped make the raft. But, you know, the more variables, the more likely the failure. And I couldn’t afford to fail this time.

  I tiptoed on through the snoring bunkhouse, and slipped outside. The moon hid behind clouds, too nervous to watch. I couldn’t use the torch in case someone saw its beam. My hands and my memory were both more useful than my eyes. I might as well have been wearing a party blindfold, but the only piñata was my stomach, ready to burst with the heavy feels I always get when maybe making a huge mistake.

  I stumbled from the bunkhouse to the line of trees. How did bats see in the dark? Could I make clicks to bounce against the trees? How did that work?

  My eyes adjusted to the gloom and the night became more charcoal-grey than pitch-black. Okay, but still …

  I walked to the river. As I got closer, I saw a faint light flittering between the trees ahead. And I’m not going to lie: it was scary. Bowel-tightening. It flickered, floating like a strange butterfly. I remembered this story of a UFO sighting near an airbase that wasn’t far away.

  Maybe, whispered my fears, this was the same forest as the UFO encounter?

  The light g
rew! I stopped. What was going on? I wasn’t far from the water now. I could hear its snare rush. The wood was three or four trees deep between me and the raft. And the light, a golden globe, hovered up ahead. Had it seen me? I looked to the floor – was there a branch I could lift to defend myself? I really wasn’t up for fighting aliens. Protecting the Earth from extraterrestrial invasion hadn’t been part of the plan.

  There was no hefty branch in sight but maybe a twig would do. I could flick a face with it, poke them in the eye. Do aliens have faces? It didn’t matter: I couldn’t find a twig either.

  Honestly, I was so close to turning back. Sure, I was desperate to help Robbie but, equally, I didn’t want to get abducted by aliens. They put probes up your bum. I swear. I’ve read things.

  I felt the presence at my shoulder a second before I heard its whispered words.

  ‘What the flop’s going on, Will?’

  I screamed, which, for obvious reasons, was all kinds of bad. Unless you’re a ghost doing some haunting, screaming is never a good look.

  And I didn’t only scream. I jumped about five metres in the air and if I hadn’t been a kid, with youthful and vigorous internal organs, my heart would have given up. It wouldn’t have been a heart attack, the organ would have just quit – ‘I don’t need any more of this stress,’ it would have said as it exited, stage left.

  The presence, the voice, wasn’t extraterrestrial. Well, not entirely. It was a girl. It was Alexa. Obviously. And it continued.

  ‘Sorry,’ she whispered. ‘Did I scare you? I saw your bunk was empty. Why didn’t you wake me? What’s going on?’

  Now wasn’t the time to get into it. Not with a mysterious glowing orb only a few metres away. I pointed through the night.

  ‘A mysterious light,’ I said.

  She gasped. She put a hand to her mouth. She spoke through her fingers, which made it really difficult to understand.

  ‘Let’s go back,’ she said, I think. ‘I don’t want to get zapped.’

  I nodded, we turned. Tomorrow was a new day. Something else would turn up. Maybe Mum and Robbie would phone the camp?! Who knew? I remember when I dropped Mum’s favourite mug, the one with a picture of a cat standing on a dog’s back, Robbie had said there were no problems, only solutions. It hadn’t made Mum any less angry and hadn’t mended the mug but his words had stuck.