Monsterstreet #4

by J. H. Reynolds

  The fog felt colder, wetter, thicker than ever before.

  It seemed . . .

  Alive.

  Harper was sure it was reading their thoughts, gauging their every move, even laughing at their plot to escape.

  I’ll beat it, she thought. Whatever the fog is, I’ll beat it.

  They managed to get away without being seen and found the road that led away from camp.

  Harper and Brodie hiked in the dark for what seemed like hours. With every step they took away from camp, Harper felt safer. And less afraid.

  “We should be getting close,” Brodie said, taking a puff from his inhaler and squirting nose spray into his nostrils. He then reached into his backpack and handed a Twinkie to Harper.

  She was just about to take it when she saw small circular shapes of light glowing ahead in the fog.

  “House lights,” she said. “It’s a neighborhood!”

  She and Brodie ran as fast as they could, relieved to have found civilization. Harper began to smile for the first time in days.

  They were moments away from safety.

  From comfort.

  From calling their parents!

  Propelled by hope, Harper felt herself running faster than she ever had before.

  She hurried onto the first porch she came upon. Brodie stayed close at her side.

  Her heart chugged in her chest like a runaway train. She raised her hand to ring the doorbell, anxious to make contact with another human being.

  But . . .

  There was a small sign where the doorbell should have been.

  The sign looked out of place.

  And familiar.

  No, she thought, squinting in the fog. This isn’t possible.

  She moved closer to the sign and read the words again:

  WELCOME TO THE GIRLS’ CABIN.

  ENJOY YOUR STAY AT CAMP MOON LAKE!

  16

  Vanished

  “This is impossible,” Harper whispered, her stomach swirling with terror. “We were hiking away from camp the whole time. For hours!”

  She spun in a circle on the cabin porch, examining her surroundings to make sure her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. Deep down, she sensed the truth, but she desperately wanted to find some clue or sign to convince her otherwise.

  “It’s the fog,” Brodie said. “It won’t let us leave.”

  Harper suspected he was right. They could run for days and weeks, and they’d still end up back at Camp Moon Lake.

  But why?

  Just then, Harper heard a terrible shriek coming from the direction of the cove.

  It was the same otherworldly shrill she had heard once before, just before she saw the flashlight eyes hovering over the water.

  “We have to get to a safe place,” Brodie urged.

  Together, they ran as fast as they could to the mess hall. Harper pushed away her fear, hiding it deep in her gut, knowing it wouldn’t do her any good.

  When they arrived, Harper and Brodie pounded on the locked doors and yelled for help.

  But no one answered.

  “Maybe they’re playing games in the gym,” Brodie proposed.

  Harper pulled on one of the doors and was surprised to find that it was unlocked.

  “That’s strange,” she said. “They should still be in lockdown.”

  She and Brodie crept through the corridor and into the main hall.

  Their jaws dropped. Neither said a word.

  The sight before them was unexplainable.

  The entire room . . .

  Was full of fog.

  Invaded.

  Haunted.

  Seized.

  The sleeping bags were still laid out on the floor.

  But all of the campers . . .

  And the counselors . . .

  Were gone.

  Vanished!

  “Where did everyone go?” Harper asked, her voice trembling.

  “Maybe the police finally came and rescued everyone,” Brodie said. “I told you we should have stayed put.”

  Harper shook her head. “If that’s true, then why didn’t everyone take their stuff with them?”

  There was silence for a moment while they pondered the mystery.

  “Look,” Brodie said, pointing toward the ceiling. “If the lights are back on, that means the generators have kicked in. And if there’s power, then that means—”

  “The phone should be working again!” Harper finished.

  They sprinted down the hall back to Director McGee’s office and hurried inside. Harper gasped when she saw that the window was still open.

  “We forgot to close it!” she said. “It’s our fault that the fog got inside.”

  Brodie glanced around, searching for a more logical explanation. But there didn’t seem to be one.

  Just as Harper was about to pick up the phone, she noticed something about the photos on the desk. Not only did all the Bronson McGees look alike, but . . .

  “Hey, did you see this?” Harper asked Brodie. “All the Bronson McGees in these photos have the same mole in the middle of their forehead.”

  Brodie’s eyes grew wide.

  And that’s when Harper realized they didn’t just look like the same person. They were the same person.

  “He—he must be a vampire—or—or a—” Brodie began in astonishment.

  But before he could finish, they heard voices coming from the room across the hall.

  Quickly, Harper and Brodie hid behind the office door and peeked around the corner. Unsure if they could trust whoever it was, they remained still as statues.

  That’s when they saw them. The faces behind the voices.

  And they weren’t strangers.

  Or monsters.

  Or ghouls.

  They were . . .

  Director McGee and Counselor Fuller.

  The two of them were standing in front of a crackling fireplace in the room across the hall. Their shadows projected on the wall behind them like conspiring demons. They were whispering in a language Harper couldn’t understand.

  Even more chilling, as the two counselors talked, Director McGee did something Harper couldn’t explain.

  He reached into the flames with his bare hands and moved a simmering log to stoke the fire.

  But when the flames licked his flesh, he didn’t flinch. He didn’t scream. And his skin didn’t burn.

  And that’s when he and Counselor Fuller both did something else Harper had never seen anyone do before.

  They began to hover . . . an entire foot off the ground.

  How did I not see it? Harper thought. Director McGee and Counselor Fuller are ghosts!

  17

  Tug-of-War

  Harper and Brodie remained behind the door in Director McGee’s office, eavesdropping on the conversation across the hall.

  “There’s still at least one left,” they heard Counselor Fuller say, now speaking a language they could understand. “The rest have been prepared.”

  “It’s going to be a long trip to the next world,” Director McGee added. “It’s important that we never leave any behind. Every one of them must go.”

  Long trip? Are they kidnapping campers and taking them into the ghost world? Harper wondered. They probably didn’t want us taking photos because their images wouldn’t show up and they’d be caught!

  “The story I made up about the drowned girl only keeps them away from the cove for so long, so we need to move fast,” Director McGee said. “And no more mistakes. The shoe prints and glasses that were left at the cove could have spoiled everything. It’s important to remember our motto at all times: ‘No trace left behind.’”

  Harper couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Nothing was making any sense.

  Not wanting to stick around any longer, she motioned toward the open window. Brodie nodded in understanding, and the two of them started across the room. But as they passed the desk, Brodie accidentally knocked over a pile of books.

  They made a
loud clattering sound against the floor.

  Director McGee and Counselor Fuller stirred in the next room.

  Harper leaped toward the window and climbed out. She reached back to help Brodie, but just as his fingers touched hers, she saw two large hands grip his shoulders.

  “No!” Harper shouted at Director McGee. “Let him go!”

  She tugged on Brodie’s arm, but Director McGee pulled harder.

  “There’s no use in trying to escape,” Director McGee threatened, pulling Brodie back into the room. “You’ve been chosen for a higher purpose. You’ve all been chosen.”

  “What are you talking about? Give me back my friend!” Harper cried out, reaching for Brodie again.

  “Run, Harper!” Brodie shouted. “Take the zip line across the cove! It’s the one place they told us to stay away from, so it may be a way out!”

  Harper observed the distressed look in Director McGee’s eyes and realized that Brodie might be right. But she couldn’t just leave Brodie to die.

  “I’m not going without you!” she said.

  “Please! You’re our only hope,” Brodie urged, just before Counselor Fuller waved her hand over his mouth and used her ghost powers to magically seal his lips.

  Harper knew Brodie was right. Her escaping and getting help was their only chance.

  She turned and ran as fast as she could into the thick, swirling mist.

  Toward the cove.

  When she looked back over her shoulder, she heard the hair-raising shrill again and saw the two phantom-counselors hover out of the open window. . . .

  And their eyes were glowing bright as spotlights.

  18

  Portal

  Harper sprinted into the unknown. The fog wrapped around her like a blanket, absorbing her deeper into its mystery.

  She felt lost, afraid, desperate.

  When she arrived at the muddy bank, she stopped and stared out at the water. The surface was still, like a haunted mirror. The mist hovering over it seemed to be waiting for her. Beckoning her into its secrets.

  The ladder to the zip-line platform stood before her, still covered in yellow caution tape. Harper glanced up, able to see only five or ten feet up the ladder. Whatever was above was completely hidden.

  Sensing that Director McGee and Counselor Fuller would be there soon, she glanced back toward camp. She expected to see them floating in her direction. But they were nowhere in sight.

  Remembering Brodie’s last words, Harper began to climb the ladder, one rung at a time.

  She felt like she was being swallowed by a cloud. Soon, she no longer saw the ground beneath her, nor could she see anything above. All she could do was trust that the ladder would lead her to escape.

  What if there’s nothing up here? What if there’s no zip line at all?

  The thought disturbed her. But it didn’t slow her down.

  Soon, she arrived at a wooden platform with an entry hole carved out of the middle of it. She climbed through it and was relieved that the zip line was actually there, just like the counselors had said. But there was something else there too.

  A metal rod.

  With a blinking light attached to it.

  Pointed toward the sky.

  This must be a cell tower, Harper thought. They were lying the whole time about not having cell service this far into the woods. But why would ghosts need a cell tower?

  She then stepped to the edge of the platform. The mini trapeze bar was made of metal, and the thick wire disappeared into the mist above the lake. She couldn’t help but wonder if it led to safety or to certain death.

  Without time to think, she tucked her flashlight in her back pocket, grabbed hold of the trapeze handle, and pushed off into the unknown.

  There was a loud hissing above her as the wheel joint rolled over the metal wire. Harper soared through the mist, feeling something she had never felt before, even in dreams.

  She was moving so fast, she felt like she was flying.

  Maybe I’ll escape them after all, she thought.

  But then . . .

  She saw the ground on the other side of the lake.

  Coming closer.

  And closer.

  Where is the brake on this thing? she wondered in a panic.

  A second later, Harper crashed hard, tumbling to the ground. She stood and brushed herself off.

  But when she looked up, she froze.

  There, in the eerie night forest, was . . .

  A gang of ghosts. Waiting for her in the fog ahead.

  Terror rushed through her.

  She had nowhere to run.

  Nowhere to hide.

  And then . . .

  She squinted and realized they weren’t ghosts. But they were almost as spooky.

  “Gravestones,” she whispered.

  There were dozens of them.

  The deteriorating markers rose from the ground like cracked teeth.

  This must be part of the graveyard the campground was built on top of, she thought.

  The fog crept through the wooded cemetery, slithering in and out between the tombstones and trees.

  Another uncomfortable thought soon struck Harper. Maybe this is where Director McGee’s and Counselor Fuller’s bodies are buried—if those are even their real names. If I can find their graves, maybe I can find a way to stop them from taking the kids to the ghost world.

  Harper began searching the faces of the stones for the names of the counselors. She shined her flashlight at each one, even tracing her finger over the letters. But most of the words were too faded to read.

  Then she noticed newer tombstones, ones with names and strange symbols that had been freshly carved into them.

  She read one.

  Then another.

  And another.

  She couldn’t help but think that the names sounded familiar.

  Like they were people she knew.

  And that’s when she saw something even more petrifying.

  There, on the one right in front of her, was . . .

  Her own name.

  She blinked and read it again, hoping her eyes were playing tricks on her.

  But there it was. Her first and last name.

  Clear as day.

  Strangely, there was no birth or death date listed.

  That’s when it hit her that all the names on the newer tombstones were the names of the campers she had met during the week.

  Did they kill all the campers and bury them here? she thought. And is this where they’re planning to bury me?

  She frantically searched for Darla’s and Regina’s names to see if their bodies were there. But the graves by their names had yet to be filled—they were still hollow.

  And that’s when a series of horrifying realizations invaded her thoughts. . . .

  The photos of Bronson McGee going back generations.

  Harper not remembering ever actually getting on the bus back in town but simply waking up in the fog.

  And how no parents had shown up to pick up a single camper.

  Am I . . . dead? she wondered.

  She looked down at her hands and reached up and touched her face. She couldn’t tell if she was dead or alive.

  Right then, she saw something just beyond the graveyard.

  A flickering light.

  And it looked like it was coming from another dimension.

  19

  Cocoons

  Harper stepped toward the light and realized it was coming from a cave. Its dark mouth was a perfect arch carved into the side of a dome-like hill covered in brush and rocks.

  She debated whether to find a path away from camp, but something kept pulling her toward the light, like a magnet.

  One step.

  Two steps.

  Three steps.

  She was no longer in control of her body. It was moving without any instructions from her mind.

  As she was lured closer to the cave, she was struck by an epiphany.

  The fog’s not co
ming from the sky, she realized. It’s coming from this cave.

  She watched as an endless cloud of mist flooded out and into the forest beyond it. The pulsing light was coming from somewhere deep inside the cave. It glowed blue, like light beneath water. It was dazzling, even hypnotic.

  But what was its source?

  Harper took a deep breath and entered the cave, unsure what lay ahead. She wanted to know exactly where the fog was coming from. And why.

  She thought of everything she had seen, everything that had happened, since she had arrived at Camp Moon Lake. . . .

  Regina’s cruelty to Darla. Darla’s evil smile of revenge. The green slime. The disappearing campers. The light beams above the cove. Escaping camp and showing up right back at its doorstep.

  She had thought she was coming to the most magical summer camp on earth. A place of fun and wonder. But she had met so much darkness. And now she was all alone.

  A few steps into the cave, a horrible smell filled her nostrils.

  Then something dripped on her arm.

  She looked down at her skin and saw . . .

  Green slime.

  The same glowing ooze she had seen on Darla’s glasses and on Regina’s bunk bed.

  “Yuck!” she said.

  Harper wiped the slime off on her shorts, then looked up and saw something even more grotesque attached to the walls of the cave. . . .

  Giant.

  Slimy.

  Cocoons.

  Dozens of them.

  They were all attached to the walls and ceiling with a sticky web of slime.

  So it was real slime after all, she thought.

  Then she saw something else that made her stomach churn. . . .

  A face.

  Inside one of the cocoons.

  And whoever was in there was still breathing.

  The campers, she thought.

  She hurried over to the cocoon and peered at the face inside.

  “Regina,” Harper whispered in disbelief.

  She quickly clawed away the slime covering Regina’s face. It felt like the goo that came out of the quarter machine at the pizza parlor back home. As soon as Harper had removed enough of it, Regina gasped for breath.