Monsterstreet #4

by J. H. Reynolds

  Before she could turn on her flashlight, the figure spoke.

  “Harper, it’s me,” Brodie said, walking out of the shadows.

  She sighed in relief, then nudged his arm as he approached.

  “You can’t sneak up on me like that,” Harper said.

  “Sorry,” Brodie replied. “I decided I couldn’t leave you on your own. I was just going to see if you wanted me to walk with you to your cabin to get your stuff. I already grabbed mine.”

  “Sure,” Harper said, comforted by the idea of walking with a friend.

  They headed out the main doors and into the misty world beyond the mess hall. Even with their flashlights, they could see only five feet in front of them. The fog was twice as thick as it had been the day before. It seemed to be getting denser every hour.

  “I guess we were wrong about Regina and Tabitha,” Harper said. “But I’ve been thinking. If the story about the ghost girl is true, then what if she really is possessing kids at the camp?”

  “Or maybe you’re just imagining things,” Brodie replied. “I heard Counselor Fuller talking to another counselor. It sounds like Regina might not be as bad as we thought. Apparently, she’s been having a hard time at home.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Her parents are splitting up,” Brodie revealed. “And they sent her to camp last minute while they try to figure out who she’s going to live with after the divorce.”

  Harper was stunned. She and Regina were both going through something similar.

  A series of images reeled through Harper’s mind. . . .

  Darla talking about her own family just before Regina broke the trust fall. . . .

  Darla being proud of her family photo moments before Regina ruined it with the syrup. . . .

  Darla talking about wanting to go home to her family on the night before she disappeared. . . .

  Harper soon realized that every time Regina had bullied Darla, it was after Darla said something positive about her own family.

  Deep down, Harper felt sorry for Regina.

  When Harper and Brodie arrived at the girls’ cabin a few moments later, Harper crept inside and grabbed her sleeping bag and suitcase. Before leaving, she glanced at Darla’s bunk and then at Regina’s and Tabitha’s. Their stuff was all still there, just as they had left it.

  But she noticed something else on Regina’s bunk.

  Something green.

  And wet.

  Harper walked closer to get a better look. She reached down and touched the strange substance.

  “Slime,” she whispered, observing the glowing goo on her fingertips. It looked radioactive, even otherworldly.

  She hurried outside to show Brodie. He examined the ooze, then said, “This is the same stuff we saw on Darla’s glasses by the cove. It’s as green as Slimer from Ghostbusters.”

  “Do you think this could all just be part of an elaborate hoax?” Harper asked. “Director McGee did say he was going to be playing twice as many pranks since this is his retirement week.”

  Brodie glared down at the green goo, then shook his head. “There’s no way this is the same gag slime that Director McGee said we’re using on Slime Night. This looks like it belongs in a high-security laboratory.”

  They stared at it for another moment, then Brodie finally said, “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

  He took Harper’s sleeping bag and suitcase and carried them under his arms.

  As they hurried back up the path to the mess hall, Harper couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. This time for real.

  “Is it me or is someone following us?” she asked.

  Brodie stopped and turned in a full circle with his flashlight.

  “I don’t hear or see anything. What made you say that?”

  “It’s just a feeling. Down in my gut,” she admitted.

  Just then, an unnatural sound emanated from the direction of the cove. It sounded like bats or birds screeching in a horror movie. Then it grew into a low moan, like something from another dimension.

  Harper turned toward the cove and saw something she couldn’t explain. . . .

  Two beams of light glowed in the fog.

  Bright as spotlights.

  And they were hovering over the water, midair.

  “W-what’s that?” Harper whispered.

  “I don’t know,” Brodie said, his eyes wide in fright.

  “Just then, the light beams floated across the cove and disappeared into the unknown.

  “W-were those, like, super-strong flashlights or something?” Harper asked, a tremor in her voice.

  “I—I don’t think so,” Brodie replied.

  “What were they, then?”

  Brodie gulped. “You’ll think I’m crazy, but they looked like something’s . . . eyes.”

  13

  Haunted

  They sprinted toward the mess hall as fast as they could.

  Once inside, they saw the counselors setting up tables and filling them with cakes, pies, brownies, ice cream, and sodas. It was a junk food wonderland.

  They spotted Counselor Fuller pacing back and forth in front of the stage, and they hurried over to her.

  “Counselor Fuller, we saw something hovering over the water in the cove,” Harper said, out of breath.

  Counselor Fuller stopped pacing and glared down at Harper.

  “What are you talking about?” she asked. “What did you see?”

  “I don’t know exactly,” Harper replied. “But it didn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen before.”

  “I saw it too,” Brodie affirmed. “It had these crazy light-beam eyes. They were glowing like—like spotlights!”

  “Do you think it’s the ghost girl? Or—or maybe Nurse Betty and the bus driver kidnapping and hiding the campers somewhere?” Harper asked.

  “It’s not that simple,” Counselor Fuller admitted. She sat down in a chair. “Nurse Betty and the bus driver ran away because they know it’s their fault that campers are going missing. But they’re not the ones taking them.”

  “Huh?” Harper squinted in confusion.

  Counselor Fuller pondered something for a moment, then stood and pulled Harper and Brodie off to the side.

  She took a deep breath. “What have you two heard about Camp Moon Lake?”

  “What do you mean?” Harper replied. “Just that it’s the most magical summer camp on earth.”

  “Besides that. I mean, have you heard any weird rumors or strange stories?” Counselor Fuller clarified.

  Brodie’s ears perked at the prospect of creepy camp stories.

  “Just the one about the girl who drowned,” Harper said. “Did it really happen?”

  Counselor Fuller pursed her lips, as if debating whether to tell them something she wasn’t supposed to tell.

  “We’re not allowed to talk about it for liability reasons, but you two have seen too much already.” She paused, then whispered, “Camp Moon Lake is . . . haunted. And not just by the ghost girl.”

  This time, Harper wished that Counselor Fuller was trying to play a prank on them. But she had the feeling what Counselor Fuller was saying was no joke.

  “Haunted? Like with ghosts?” Harper asked.

  Counselor Fuller nodded. “You see, a long, long time ago, Camp Moon Lake was unknowingly built on top of an ancient burial ground,” she revealed. “We’ve tried to cover it up with fancy buildings and such, but some things just won’t stay buried.”

  “Oh, man,” Brodie said with morbid delight. “You’re telling me we’re standing on top of a graveyard right now? A real graveyard with dead people right beneath our feet?”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Counselor Fuller replied. “Usually, the spirits leave us alone if we leave them alone. But Nurse Betty and the bus driver accidentally disturbed the graves last week, and it’s been causing problems to say the least. Director McGee got on to them about it when he found out and decided to go ahead and have camp anyway since it’s his la
st week.”

  Harper couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It felt like a nightmare had seeped out of her head and was coming to life in the real world. And she now understood Director McGee was acting so weird because he felt guilty for green-lighting camp even though he had known there was a risk.

  “Now that’s what I call a twist,” Brodie whispered.

  “Is that what’s causing the fog? The ghosts?” Harper asked, surprised that Counselor Fuller was trusting them with such a big secret.

  Counselor Fuller nodded and continued, “Whenever there have been hauntings in the past, the fog has always been present. The best thing we can do is stay inside away from it. Once the fog goes away, everything should be fine again.”

  “But what about the kids it’s already taken? Will the ghosts give them back?” Harper asked.

  “I don’t know,” Counselor Fuller answered. “But you two need to stick together.”

  Harper felt goose bumps prickle her skin. She looked out at all the kids gorging themselves with cupcakes and cookies, completely unaware of the truth.

  Before Harper could ask another question, Counselor Fuller scurried off to talk to another counselor.

  With no other choice in sight, she and Brodie dragged their sleeping bags over to the corner of the mess hall and sat down.

  They were both silent for a few moments, then Harper asked, “Is this really happening?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe we’re asleep, and this is all just a bad dream. You want me to make up a story to keep your mind off things?” Brodie offered.

  “No thanks. We’re living inside a story right now—a scary one!” she replied.

  Brodie put his hand on her shoulder, and Harper noticed Counselor Fuller watching them from across the room.

  “Don’t worry, Harper. Everything’s going to turn out fine,” Brodie assured her. “You’ll see. Real life doesn’t have twist endings.”

  But by the next night, Harper would think otherwise.

  14

  Contact

  By lunchtime that day, six campers still hadn’t made it back from their cabins with their luggage. Director McGee said he suspected the kids had gotten lost in the fog, but based on what Counselor Fuller had told her, Harper suspected that wasn’t the whole truth.

  Director McGee had sent out a group of counselors to go look for them, but they returned with no success.

  The remaining campers spent the day in the mess hall, trying to suppress their worries with junk food. As soon as one tray of cupcakes or cookies was gone, another one was brought out from the kitchen. It was an endless feast of sweets. Harper figured that every camper was going to be ten pounds heavier by the time their parents came to pick them up.

  She, on the other hand, couldn’t work up an appetite.

  All day long, she waited for her parents to arrive, but they never came.

  It was the same all night and the next day as well.

  She waited . . . and waited.

  But they never showed up.

  By sunset of that next day, with no rescue in sight, Harper decided to take matters into her own hands.

  While all the other campers were rolling out their sleeping bags in the main room to camp out for another night, she approached Brodie. He was sitting on the floor, writing a story about the camp vanishings.

  “Don’t you think it’s weird that no police or parents have shown up yet?” Harper asked. “I mean, kids have gone missing. That’s sort of a big deal. If our parents really were notified, then why aren’t they here yet?”

  “Yeah, it is kind of weird,” Brodie said, fully focused on his story. “But Counselor Fuller told us things should be fine once the fog goes away.”

  “So we’re supposed to just stick around for another night and hope our parents come tomorrow?” she asked.

  “What other choice do we have?” Brodie replied.

  Harper glanced across the room at Director McGee, who was playing a game of cards with several other counselors. He didn’t look as concerned as Harper thought he should be. In fact, he didn’t seem concerned at all. Counselor Fuller, on the other hand, seemed pale with worry.

  “Follow me,” Harper told Brodie.

  “Where are we going?” he asked, shoving his pen and notebook into his backpack.

  “Just stay close,” Harper instructed, then led him into the hallway.

  They crept quietly, so as not to draw any attention to themselves. Their steps were soft as snowflakes, and Harper could hear the rickety sound of the air conditioner humming above. When they turned the corner at the end of the hall, she peeked into Director McGee’s office.

  She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that no one was there. Then she hurried to the phone on the desk and picked it up.

  “There’s a dial tone!” she said.

  Anxiously, Harper pressed in her mom’s cell phone number, and the line began to ring.

  One ring.

  Two rings.

  Then, on the third ring, her mom answered.

  “Hello?

  At the sound of her mom’s voice, Harper felt a surge of relief. All her worries began to fade away as she realized she could finally tell her mom everything.

  “Mom, it’s me!” Harper said.

  “Harper? Is everything okay, sweetie?” her mom replied.

  “Mom, this camp is—”

  But before Harper could finish, there was a clicking sound, and the phone went silent.

  No dial tone.

  No voice on the other end.

  Nothing.

  “It—it disconnected,” Harper said. She quickly unplugged the phone line and plugged it back in. But nothing happened.

  Brodie reached for the computer and tried to turn it on, but the screen remained black.

  Then . . .

  The lights in the hall went out.

  And the air conditioner stopped humming.

  “The electricity’s been shut off,” Brodie said, noticing the fog rushing up against the window like a predator stalking its prey. “And why does it feel like whatever’s out there is trying to get inside?”

  Harper began pacing back and forth, trying to figure out what to do next.

  “If my letter was mailed out yesterday, then my parents should have gotten it this morning, right?” she mused aloud, trying to reconvince herself. She chewed on her nails like a rabbit chomping on a carrot, which she always did when she was nervous or afraid. “Surely between my letter and the disconnected phone call, my mom and dad should be on their way right now to come get me. It kind of sounded like my mom was driving in her car when she picked up the phone. Don’t you think?”

  But Brodie remained silent. He was staring at something beneath Director McGee’s desk.

  He pointed, and Harper peeked around the corner of the desk to see what he was looking at.

  All hope deflated from her.

  There, in the shadows, was . . .

  The blue basket.

  Full of unsent letters.

  15

  No Escape

  “Why weren’t these mailed out?” Harper asked, noticing the envelope addressed to her parents was on the top of the pile.

  “Maybe with everything going on, Director McGee forgot to send them,” Brodie said.

  “He forgot every day this week?” Harper asked. “Look, here’s the letter you turned in to him two days ago.”

  Brodie was silent. There was no doubt that Director McGee had intentionally failed to mail the letters. But why?

  Harper sat down in a chair next to the bookshelf and put her face in her hands. She tried her best not to cry.

  “My mom and dad aren’t coming. No parents are coming,” she said. “They probably don’t even know what’s happening here. We’re on our own.”

  Her body felt tense. Like a storm cloud about to burst.

  Then she noticed something sitting on the edge of the desk beneath a paperweight.

  A stack of old photos. Some were in black and whit
e, and others were in color but faded.

  She reached for them and read the words on the back of the first photo:

  Bronson McGee Sr.

  First Day as Director of Camp Moon Lake

  “Brodie, this is a picture of Director McGee’s great-great-grandfather,” she said, pointing to it. “It looks like it was taken a hundred years ago.”

  Brodie blinked in surprise. “He looks just like Director McGee does now. And even back then, all the other counselors are smiling that same plastic smile.”

  Harper turned to a photo of Bronson McGee Jr., then to one of Bronson McGee III, and even to one of Bronson McGee IV.

  “Weird,” Harper said. “They all look exactly alike. It’s like they’re clones or something.”

  She accidentally dropped one of the photos, and Brodie picked it up off the floor.

  “Uh, Harper?” he said in a concerned voice.

  “What?” she replied, not believing things could get any worse.

  “Look at this,” he said, holding out the photo.

  Only, it wasn’t a photo. It was a handwritten note from a century before.

  It read:

  The secret must be kept at all costs.

  Harper felt a shiver run up her spine.

  “Do you think it’s talking about the camp being built on top of a graveyard?” Brodie asked.

  “I don’t know. But Director McGee has been lying to us the whole time.”

  Harper suddenly felt cold. She could feel her chest rising and falling as her breath quickened in her lungs.

  “We have to get out of here,” she said. “Like, now.”

  “But the mist—what if it hurts us?” Brodie asked.

  “We have to take our chances. It’s better than staying inside waiting for help that’s never going to come,” Harper replied. “We have to take care of ourselves.”

  Brodie handed her a flashlight. “We can take the road the bus came in on,” he said. “I remember seeing a town a few miles back, just before the bus entered the fog. We can call for help there.”

  Harper and Brodie knew all the doors in the mess hall were locked, so they unhitched the window in Director McGee’s office and climbed out into the dark, foggy night.

  Once outside, Harper felt more vulnerable than ever. Like she was even closer to danger. But she knew deep down she had to take more risks before she could get to safety.