No shoe prints.
No glasses.
No slime.
“It was right here, wasn’t it?” Brodie asked Harper.
“Yeah. The shoe prints led to that spot right there,” she said, shining her flashlight beam in the very place where the glasses and prints had been.
But the mud on the bank looked untouched. And it was covered in moss.
“Maybe you two just thought you saw something in the fog,” Director McGee said.
“The good news is that Darla’s home safe and sound, and no other campers are in danger,” Counselor Fuller added. “I’ll check around about the canoe shack—I’m sure one of the counselors just forgot to lock it up.”
Brodie shook his head in disbelief. “I know what I saw.”
“Yeah, the slime was right there,” Harper said.
“Did you say slime?” Director McGee asked. “We have buckets of it stored in the activities closet for Slime Night later in the week. Someone must have gotten into it.”
Harper and Brodie looked at each other, feeling silly for possibly making a big deal out of nothing.
“Why don’t you two come back to the mess hall? Clear your minds for a bit,” Director McGee said.
Harper and Brodie both peered out to the cove, wondering what was out there.
But there was only silence.
And fog.
That night, as Harper lay in her bunk staring at the ceiling, she couldn’t help but wonder if Darla really was back at home with her family. She wished she had some way to check on her, but she knew the reality was that she’d probably never see or talk to Darla again.
Harper’s thoughts were soon interrupted by Regina’s voice across the cabin. . . .
“I’m glad that girl is finally gone,” Regina said to Tabitha. “I was so tired of listening to her talk about her family this and her family that.”
Harper sat up in her bed.
“You don’t stop, do you?” Harper said.
Regina glared at her.
“She was annoying,” Regina replied. “Her parents probably just got rid of her for the week because they didn’t want her in the house all summer. And now they’re probably mad that she got sick at the beginning of camp and ruined their free time. She shouldn’t even have been here in the first place.”
“How can you be so insensitive?” Harper asked. “Besides, Brodie saw the camper list, and your name isn’t even on it. If anyone’s not supposed to be here, it’s you.”
At Harper’s accusation, Regina stood from her bed and walked over to her.
“I have more of a right to be here than anyone!” Regina shouted, jabbing her finger into Harper’s chest. “You better be careful, Harper. Wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you too.”
With a sinister smirk on her face, Regina walked back to her bunk.
She has the same look that Darla had last night, Harper thought. Evil.
A few minutes later, Counselor Fuller came in and turned out the lights and activated the sound machines.
Harper lay on her back again looking at the ceiling in the dark. She couldn’t shake the heavy feeling in her gut. It kept prodding her, taunting her, warning her. There’s something wrong with Camp Moon Lake.
And she was right.
There was something wrong indeed.
Something very, very wrong.
10
Vanished
Harper awoke in the night.
The cabin was dark and quiet, and she could hear the breeze whispering through the pine trees outside.
She sat up in bed and looked around.
Everyone was asleep. And everything seemed normal. She figured a spider or bug had crawled across her face while she was sleeping and woken her up.
And she was just about to lie back down when she saw . . .
Two silhouettes. On the far side of the cabin.
Sneaking out the screen door.
Regina and Tabitha, she thought, noticing their beds were empty. Where are they going in the middle of the night?
Harper grabbed her flashlight and climbed down the ladder of her bunk. She tiptoed across the cabin, careful not to awaken the other campers. Then she crept out the door.
The fog wrapped around her like a blanket, tickling her face with its cool wetness. It was so thick, she couldn’t tell which direction the girls had gone.
But she soon heard laughter. And followed after it.
The dirt felt cool against her bare feet, and for a moment, she wondered if she might be dreaming.
Every time she thought she had lost Regina and Tabitha, she heard their laughter again coming from a different direction.
What are they doing? she wondered. Maybe I should go back to the cabin where it’s safe. I can ask them about it in the morning.
But her curiosity got the best of her.
After a while, she no longer heard their voices or saw their footprints in the dirt. And she no longer knew where she was.
She was all alone.
In the dark.
Where no one could hear her if she cried for help.
Just then . . .
Someone screamed.
A bloodcurdling, desperate shriek—a sound she never wanted to hear again.
Harper hesitated for a moment, then ran toward it.
An awful feeling ate at her stomach.
That’s when her flashlight beam illumined the yellow caution tape of the zip-line ladder five feet in front of her.
Something terrible has happened to Regina and Tabitha, she thought, unable to locate their footprints or any sign of them near the ladder. I have to find a place to hide.
She ran in the direction of the nearby canoe shack and climbed through an unlocked window. Out of breath, she lay down in a dusty nook where she doubted anyone could find her.
I’ll hide here until morning, she thought.
But her eyes soon became heavy, and she slipped away into a dreamless sleep.
A rooster’s crow woke her up just after dawn.
She sat up and brushed the dirt out of her hair. When she glanced out the window, she saw the fog wrapping its smoky fingers around the trees. It looked alive.
Harper rose to her feet, then rushed out of the canoe shack and toward the mess hall.
They’re probably all worried about where I am, she thought.
But when she entered through the doors, all the campers and counselors were at their tables, finishing up breakfast. Like they didn’t even know she was missing.
“What are you doing here?” Brodie said, surprised to see Harper. “I thought you went home.”
“What?” she asked. “Why would you think that?”
“You didn’t answer during roll call, and Director McGee said you, Regina, and Tabitha had been sent home with a stomach bug in the middle of the night.”
Harper squinted, confused.
“Why would they say that? I saw Regina and Tabitha sneak out of the cabin last night, and I followed them. But I lost them near the zip line. I don’t know what happened to them, but they definitely weren’t sick.”
Brodie looked around, suspicious.
“Weird,” he said.
Just then, Harper saw Director McGee and Counselor Fuller standing off to the side talking to a group of counselors. Harper rushed toward them. Brodie followed.
“Why did you tell the other campers that I was sent home?” Harper asked, pulling on Director McGee’s sleeve.
At the sight of her, Director McGee’s eyes grew wide. Counselor Fuller’s grew even wider.
“Harper? What are you doing here? I—I thought you went home,” Counselor Fuller said, seemingly just as confused as Harper.
“Why would you think that?”
“That’s what Nurse Betty’s report said this morning after we did the roll call. She said you, Regina, and Tabitha stopped by her office sometime after midnight with a stomach bug, and that she called the bus driver to take you all home.”
Harper couldn’
t believe what she was hearing. Someone had completely made up a story about her.
“Well, it’s not true. I saw Regina and Tabitha sneak out of the cabin last night, and I followed them to see what they were up to. I lost them in the fog near the zip line, right after I heard one of them scream.”
Director McGee and Counselor Fuller exchanged a worried look.
“Maybe Nurse Betty got confused—she does that sometimes,” Director McGee said, then turned to Counselor Fuller. “I’ll check in with her. You go find the bus driver.”
Counselor Fuller nodded, and they both disappeared out the nearby door.
But ten minutes later, they returned to the mess hall with a panicked look in their eyes.
“Did you talk to them? What did they say?” Harper asked, eager to find out the news.
“They’re both gone,” Director McGee said, seeming exasperated and perplexed. “When I approached them and told them that you were still here at camp, they ran onto the bus and drove away. It’s obvious they’re up to something—hopefully not as terrible as it seems. I’ve called the police, and I need to inform the rest of the campers about what’s going on.”
“If Nurse Betty lied about me, Regina, and Tabitha, then that means she probably lied about Darla too.”
“It’s possible,” Director McGee said solemnly. “But we don’t have any time to waste trying to chase down Nurse Betty and the bus driver. We’ll leave that to the police. For now, we need to focus on keeping all the campers safe.”
He hurried to the stage and turned on the microphone. A piercing sound rang through the speakers.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and addressed the crowd. . . .
“Kids, I—I have something urgent I need to share with you. It seems that several campers have gone missing. We’re not certain of the situation yet, but the police are contacting your parents right now to inform them about what’s going on and request that they come pick you up immediately. Because of our policy of secrecy, there’s no internet and only one phone line here at camp, and we need to leave it open in case the police call. So you won’t be able to call your parents directly.”
“What about our cell phones?” a boy at the front asked.
A few other campers grunted in agreement.
“There aren’t any cell towers this far into the woods, so trying would be no use.”
Harper gulped. “This is serious,” she said, hardly believing what she was hearing.
“No joke,” Brodie replied.
Then Counselor Fuller walked onto the stage and whispered something in Director McGee’s ear.
His eyes widened. With a quaver in his voice, he continued, “W-we’ve decided it’s best to go into lockdown mode. In a few moments, we’re going to send you all to your cabins with a buddy and ask that you bring your stuff back here to the mess hall. Once everyone is inside, we’re going to lock the doors until we can figure out what’s going on and your parents arrive. We have lots of activities we can do inside. And plenty of food. So everyone will be okay here.”
Harper watched as Director McGee hurried off the stage and disappeared into the hallway. The remaining counselors walked around to the tables recapping the plan to the campers.
I’m not staying here for another minute, Harper thought. I’m going home.
But what she didn’t know was that she would never go home again.
11
Not the First Time
“This is crazy,” Harper said as she and Brodie cleaned off their trays and stacked them on the conveyor belt that transported them back into the kitchen. “Kids are disappearing from camp, and the counselors want us to sit around and pretend like everything’s okay. Surely they have other buses they can call to come get us!”
Brodie glanced around the room.
Everyone was panicked. Some kids were crying. Others sat pale with fright.
“Director McGee said our parents should be on the way,” he replied. “Besides, do you have a better idea?”
“Yeah. The counselors are all distracted right now,” Harper said. “I say we go find the phone.”
“I’m staying right here like they said,” Brodie replied. “It’s the safest option.”
“Suit yourself,” she said, then snuck around the corner and out the door.
Harper glanced over her shoulder at Brodie, hoping he might change his mind. But instead he gave her a reluctant wave of good luck.
Then she let the door close behind her.
On her way down the dimly lit hallway, she wished more than anything she could talk to her mom and dad. Even if things were rough between them, the wall she had put up now seemed so petty in the face of her current situation.
I bet they’ve made their decision by now, she thought. I wish things could just go back to the way they were.
Harper rounded the corner at the end of the hall, hurried into the main office, and reached for the phone.
But someone else’s hand grabbed it first.
“What are you doing in here, young lady?” Director McGee asked in a more serious voice than the one he usually used. He had been sitting in a tall leather chair with his back to her, so she hadn’t seen him.
“I’m—I’m calling my parents to make sure they’re on their way,” Harper explained.
“I already told you—all parents are currently being notified by the police. We need to leave this line open for the time being.”
“What about the cell phones—can’t I just try to use mine real quick? You can even sit here and watch me to make sure I don’t take any photos with it or whatever,” Harper said, noticing the locked box of cell phones behind the desk.
Director McGee shook his head.
“Camp policy. Besides, like I told the campers, even if I did give yours back to you, there are no cell towers this far into the woods,” Director McGee replied. “Don’t worry—we have everything under control. You just have to trust us.”
“But everything’s not under control,” Harper said. “Kids are going missing, and you don’t know where they are!”
Director McGee sighed. He calmly reached into a drawer and took out two sheets of blank paper, a pen, and an envelope.
He held them out to Harper.
“I understand you’re scared. Like I said earlier, why don’t you take some time and write out your thoughts and fears in a letter?”
“But I thought you said all the parents were being told to come pick us up today. So why would I need to write a letter?”
“Because it will make you feel better,” Director McGee said, encouraging her. “I’ll overnight it so that they get it first thing tomorrow morning—if they aren’t already here by then.”
Harper glanced at the landline phone again, wishing she could just make the phone call. Something in her didn’t trust Director McGee.
“Fine,” she surrendered, half wishing she hadn’t given in so easily.
She took the pen, paper, and envelope, walked out of the office, down the hall, and to a chair in a corner next to a window.
As she sat down, the fog stretched right up to the pane and curled around the building, like it was wrapping its claws around them.
Anxious, Harper looked down at the blank page, then took up her pen and wrote the following message to her parents:
Dear Mom and Dad,
Please come get me right away. Kids are disappearing from camp. Something’s not right about this place.
—Harper
PS I love you both.
We can talk more when you pick me up, but I’ll be okay wherever I have to live—even if it means going back and forth between two houses.
She set down the pen and immediately felt a heavy weight lift from her shoulders. Writing down her thoughts and feelings had somehow made her feel a little better. She had said everything she wanted to say in only a few sentences. And she now felt some hope.
Harper folded the letter and sealed it in the envelope. The gross taste of the sealant lingered
on her tongue. Then she walked back down the hall to Director McGee’s office.
He was still sitting at his desk, staring into thin air, as if he wasn’t sure what to do next. Harper could tell that he felt overwhelmed with emotions and responsibilities.
She handed the letter to him.
“Thank you, Harper. I’m sure your parents will be here soon since your town is only a few hours away, but like I said, I’ll overnight this just in case.” He paused, then added, “And I’m really sorry camp hasn’t turned out the way you hoped. It’s not usually like this. And this isn’t how we ever wanted it to be.”
Harper had always been good at reading people, and she could tell Director McGee felt genuinely sorry.
“It’s not your fault, I guess. But you might want to change your brochures for next summer,” Harper said, half joking. Director McGee cracked a smile. Then Harper added, “And it’s up to you to figure out what’s going on soon. Before anything else bad happens.”
“The lockdown should prevent any other incidents from taking place,” Director McGee said. “You better go get with a buddy and head to your cabin to gather all your stuff. Once everyone’s inside the mess hall, we’ll lock the doors.”
Harper nodded, then headed back toward the hallway. But when she looked over her shoulder, she noticed something in Director McGee’s eyes. Something secret. And it gave her the feeling this wasn’t the first time kids had gone missing from Camp Moon Lake.
12
Fog Lights
As she walked down the hall, Harper couldn’t stop thinking about the unsettling look in Director McGee’s eyes. She was sure he knew something he wasn’t telling them. After all, his family had run the camp for five generations, so if anyone knew what might be going on, it was him.
Maybe I’m just paranoid, she thought. There might be a logical explanation for all of this.
As if she wasn’t suspicious enough, she was suddenly overcome by the feeling that she was being watched.
The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Her body tensed.
She slowly turned and saw a tall, thin figure standing ten feet behind her in the dark.
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