Monsterstreet #4 Read online

  Darla eagerly shot her hand up in the air. She jumped up and down with excitement. “I do, I do!”

  Counselor Fuller grinned at Darla’s enthusiasm and waved for her to come up to the trust table. She talked with Darla for a moment, giving her a few tips, then jogged away down the path from which they had come.

  Darla climbed the steps and stood proudly atop the trust table like a magician on her stage.

  She turned to the campers.

  “My family did this on our vacation last summer,” she began, not the least bit shy in front of a crowd. “I have five brothers and sisters, and my parents are always trying to find new bonding activities for us to do.”

  Nearby, Regina rolled her eyes and made a face like she was throwing up.

  Darla continued. “The way it works is I’ll stand up here and fall backward off the stage. And four of you will stand below with your arms locked to catch me. Make sense?”

  The campers nodded in understanding.

  “I’ll go first. Who wants to catch me?”

  “We will,” Harper volunteered, pulling Brodie up to the base of the trust table.

  “We’ll do it too,” Regina said, dragging Tabitha up to the front of the crowd. Regina seemed like the kind of girl who liked attention.

  Harper and Brodie locked arms across from each other, and Regina and Tabitha did the same. Darla stepped to the edge of the platform with her back to them.

  “Okay, when I say ‘ready,’ you say, ‘fall away,’” Darla instructed. She then knelt and whispered to Harper, “If anything happens to me, tell my family I love them.”

  Harper smiled. “You’ll be fine. I promise we’ll catch you.”

  Regina rolled her eyes and whispered something in Tabitha’s ear.

  Darla took a deep breath and called out, “Ready?”

  Harper, Brodie, Regina, and Tabitha shouted back in unison, “Fall away!”

  Darla carefully backed up, her heels hanging over the edge of the table. She closed her eyes, folded her arms across her chest like she was lying in a coffin, and relaxed her body.

  Three . . .

  Two . . .

  One . . .

  The other campers watched in suspense as Darla fell backward off the table toward her trust partners.

  Downward . . .

  And downward . . .

  But when her weight fell into the human net below, Regina’s and Tabitha’s arms broke apart, and Darla tumbled headfirst to the ground.

  BAM!

  Darla sat up and rubbed the back of her head.

  Harper and Brodie knelt at her side and examined her. She had a small bump bubbling out from her skull.

  Harper looked up at Regina accusingly. “Why did you do that?”

  “Our hands slipped,” Regina said. “She shouldn’t have fallen so hard.”

  Harper glared at her.

  Brodie gave Darla some water from his canteen.

  Feeling like a protective older sister, Harper stood and faced Regina.

  “You could have really hurt her,” Harper said.

  “It was a stupid exercise anyway,” Regina replied, not seeming the least bit remorseful.

  “What’s wrong with you? You should tell her you’re sorry,” Harper said in a more challenging tone.

  Regina stepped toward Harper.

  “You better watch yourself,” Regina threatened. “Or you might cause another accident. Wouldn’t want both of you to end up in the camp graveyard.”

  “Summer camps don’t have graveyards,” Harper said.

  “Sure they do. Every camp has one. Even Camp Moon Lake. But they keep it hidden so that the campers don’t get freaked out.”

  “You’re making that up,” Harper challenged.

  “Actually, she might be telling the truth,” Brodie whispered in Harper’s ear.

  Harper shot him a sour look.

  Regina took another step toward Harper, and Tabitha followed, attached at her hip. For a moment, it looked like Regina was going to push Harper.

  “If you haven’t figured it out yet,” Regina began, then looked up at the sky as if someone, or something, was watching them. “This camp isn’t like other camps. Camp Moon Lake is . . . different.”

  Harper knew Regina was just trying to scare them. But before Harper could say anything else, she felt a cold, slimy tentacle wrap around her ankle.

  She looked down and saw the scariest creature she had ever seen in her entire life. . . .

  4

  Campfire Tales

  The creature tightened itself around Harper’s ankle, cutting off her circulation.

  And that’s when she realized what the thing was. . . .

  “Snake!” she shouted.

  Instinctually, she kicked her leg, and the snake flew through the air and landed in the grass. She watched in horror as it slithered away into the nearby cove.

  Harper breathed a sigh of relief.

  “Don’t be such a wimp. It’s probably just as afraid of you as you are of it,” Regina taunted.

  Before Harper could say anything back, a whistle shrilled behind her.

  She turned and saw a counselor coming toward them. “Time to head over to the Opening Night Campfire! It’s starting to get dark, so here are some flashlights. Be sure to stay on the path!”

  The counselor opened up a canvas bag and handed out green flashlights that had the yellow camp logo on them. She then pointed toward a nearby trailhead sign that read Campfire Corner.

  Harper, Brodie, and Darla followed the mob of campers down the narrow path canopied by trees. Their beams of artificial light illuminated the mist, giving the evening a haunting ambience.

  Soon, Harper could see the orange glow of firelight ahead. The flames danced in the deepening twilight.

  After they arrived, Harper, Darla, and Brodie sat down together on a log. Darla started roasting marshmallows. The first one fell off her stick, but she managed to toast the second one to a golden crisp.

  She motioned for Harper to hand her a graham cracker. Harper rummaged in the open box nearby and gave one to her. Darla cracked it in half, put a chocolate bar on one side, and squished the marshmallow between the crackers.

  Then she took a big bite.

  “I love s’mores,” Darla said as if it was her first time to ever try one. Then she handed the stick to Harper.

  “I think those girls are going to be a problem for us, but especially for Darla,” Harper whispered to Brodie.

  Brodie moved his wild black hair out of his face and glanced across the fire at Regina and Tabitha, who were pushing two younger kids out of their chairs so they could sit down.

  “Yeah. I can’t believe Regina broke the trust fall—she definitely did it on purpose,” Brodie said. “Let me know if they give you any more trouble. I’ve watched The Karate Kid at least a hundred times and have just about mastered the crane kick. I sort of feel like we need to protect Darla. . . . Otherwise, no one else will.”

  “Yeah,” Harper said, touched by Brodie’s protective brotherly instincts. “You know, back on the bus I wasn’t sure what to think about you. But . . . you’re all right.”

  “No offense, but you still don’t know me that well,” Brodie said with a wink, then began spraying himself all over with mosquito repellent.

  The smell was so strong, Harper had to hold her nose.

  Right then, a loud drum began to boom in the darkness on the other side of the campfire. Into the firelight stepped a tall, skinny man wearing a goofy hat that was shaped like a giant hot dog. His face was painted with streaks of red that looked like blood.

  “Good evening, campers!” he called out. He squeaked a rubber bike horn in the air like a circus clown. “My name is Bronson McGee the fifth! But you can call me Director McGee. I’m the director of Camp Moon Lake.”

  “Hi, Director McGee!” the campers shouted back in unison.

  Director McGee smiled. “Congratulations on winning the lottery to get to come to camp! It truly is a once-in-a
-lifetime experience. My family has run this place for five generations, and like always, we guarantee to make it the most unforgettable week of your life!”

  The campers cheered again.

  Director McGee waited for a moment, then waved his hands for the kids to quiet down. “Now, listen up. Before we begin our week of fun and games, it’s important that you each learn the camp rules. Your counselors will go over the list with you in your cabins before lights-out tonight, but there’s one rule we need to address here. Right now.” He paused, removed his silly hat, then added solemnly, “It’s a matter of life or death.”

  Harper felt a chill rush over her. It was the first serious tone a counselor had used since they had arrived.

  Director McGee took a deep breath and peered into the eyes of each camper. When he looked at Harper, the hairs on her arms stood up. She wondered if he was about to reveal something about the camp murders.

  “This is very serious,” Director McGee said. “Too many campers have ignored this rule, even though we warn them to follow it on the first night of every camp week, just like we’re warning you now.”

  He took another long, thoughtful breath and met the eyes of each camper once again.

  “The most important rule at Camp Moon Lake is . . .” He stepped closer to the firelight, then finally whispered, “Stay away from the forbidden cove. No swimming. No canoeing. No zip-lining. It’s far too dangerous in the fog.”

  He gestured behind him, and the campers eagerly shined their flashlights in the direction where he was pointing. The collective beams turned into a giant spotlight that illuminated the edge of the lake. Blanketed with mist.

  Harper could barely see the zip-line platform on the bank a hundred yards over from them.

  “Why? What’s in the cove?” Brodie asked.

  Director McGee leaned down so that the firelight reflected in his eyes. He held his hot dog–themed hat at his side, and Harper thought that the red streaks on his face looked like someone, or something, had clawed his cheeks and forehead.

  “We don’t know,” Director McGee confessed. “And technically, the question isn’t what’s in the cove. The question is what’s beyond it.”

  All the campers exchanged frightened, confused looks.

  Harper waited for Director McGee to say that he was only kidding, but his gaze remained solemn.

  “What I can tell you is a story that’s been passed down to counselors and campers for many summers. It was told to me by my grandfather, and it was told to him by his granddaddy.

  “As the legend goes, a girl came to Camp Moon Lake a long time ago and was told the same rule you’ve been told tonight. But she didn’t listen. Instead, she climbed up to the zip line platform and rode the wire into the fog. The wire hissed as she slid across it and disappeared into the mist. But some campers who saw her do it said there was never a scream. No sound of her dropping into the water. She simply . . . disappeared. They pulled the handle back to the platform, but there was no one on it. It was a like a fishhook that had been stripped of its bait. And she was never heard from again.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, Harper noticed Darla listening attentively.

  “I thought this was supposed to be the most magical summer camp on earth?” Darla whispered.

  “So we can’t have fun on the lake because some stupid girl messed things up for the rest of us like fifty years ago or something?” Regina called out from her stolen seat.

  “Tragic as it is, it’s not that simple,” Director McGee replied, disregarding Regina’s lack of empathy. “You see, ever since the girl disappeared, no camper who’s gone beyond the cove when it’s foggy has ever come back. Not a single one. And on some nights, while lying in the cabins, campers say they can hear a scream coming from the lake—a collective scream that grows bigger and louder every summer with each kid that doesn’t return. And it’s believed to be the ghost of the girl who haunts the waters, and all her captives, waiting to take more campers.”

  There was dead silence.

  Everyone around the campfire sat still and quiet.

  Harper scooted closer to Brodie, and Darla moved closer to Harper.

  Even though it was too foggy to see anything, Harper could hear the water lapping up against the muddy bank.

  And then, in the distance just beyond the cove, she heard the most terrible sound she had ever heard. . . .

  5

  Double Feature

  The sound blared again.

  And again.

  Harper covered her ears, as did all the other campers.

  It sounded like a shrieking choir of voices.

  Each camper sat wide eyed, staring at one another to see if anyone else had heard it.

  Harper felt a chill rush over her. It was like a ghost had licked her spine with its icy tongue.

  Darla remained motionless beside her.

  A few moments passed, and the scream came again. Only this time, it was in the fog right next to the campfire.

  Everyone stood up, ready to run.

  Then . . .

  Counselor Fuller jumped out of the bushes and howled into a microphone hooked into a portable speaker. Her shriek multiplied into a dozen shrills, all layered with reverb. It was the same banshee cry the campers had heard coming from the cove.

  She and Director McGee high-fived each other and laughed. Realizing they had been fooled, the campers all booed, half-relieved the story wasn’t true, half-angry that they had fallen for the prank.

  Director McGee put his hot-dog hat back on and turned to the campers. “Gotcha!”

  The campers booed again.

  This must have been the “thing” Counselor Fuller had to go set up earlier, Harper thought.

  “What would Opening Night Campfire be like without a spooky story?” Director McGee joked. “The truth is, a girl really did disappear in the cove a long time ago, and her body was never found. So it really is important for you to follow the rules and stay away from the cove during the fog. Understand?”

  The campers nodded obediently.

  I don’t know what to believe, Harper thought.

  “On another note, this is my last week as camp director,” Director McGee revealed. “I’m retiring on Friday as soon as the last bus leaves to transfer you guys back home, and Counselor Fuller will be taking over from there. So this is a bittersweet week for me, and I plan to make the most of it with all of you.”

  Counselor Fuller stepped to his side and rested her arm on his shoulder. Harper thought she saw a tear glimmering in Director McGee’s eye.

  “It also means I’ll be playing twice as many pranks as usual!” he added with a chuckle. “Once you finish with your s’mores, we’ll head on over to the outdoor movie theater. Even though it’s foggy, we should still be able to see the glow of the screen. Oh, and we have popcorn, sodas, and candy waiting for you at the concession stands.”

  On their way over to watch the movie, Harper, Brodie, and Darla walked side by side, huddling together in the chilly night air.

  “I could have told a scarier story than that,” Brodie bragged to the girls. “The twist ending was too predictable. Director McGee should have thrown in a twist on the twist. That’s the best way to surprise your audience.”

  “Well, it scared me,” Darla said.

  “Me too,” Harper agreed.

  “All I’m saying is my story about the camp murders was better.”

  Harper turned to Brodie. “I knew you made that up!”

  Brodie tried to hide his smirk.

  “I needed to test it out before putting it to paper. That’s what real storytellers do.”

  Harper felt frustrated that she had been coaxed into believing something that wasn’t true. Not just once but twice—and in one day! She wondered how many times in her life she had fallen for tricks like Brodie’s and Director McGee’s without realizing it.

  Worst of all, she again wasn’t sure if she could trust Brodie. She wasn’t sure if she could trust anyone.
r />   For some reason, the whole thing made her think of her parents. She thought of all the fun times they had shared. All the memories. And she wondered if they too were just illusions.

  No use in dwelling on it while I’m here, she told herself as the campers around her sang songs, told jokes, and made up more spooky stories. Besides, I’m one of the Lucky Ones—I’m here at the most magical summer camp on earth.

  But her luck was about to run out.

  6

  Camp Games

  The next morning, all the campers and counselors met in the mess hall for breakfast. There were long tables set up like a buffet, filled with pancakes, waffles, bacon, sausage, syrup, toast, and every other breakfast food a kid could dream up.

  Even more incredible, the counselors acted like waiters, bringing chocolate milk, orange juice, and soda to the kids at each table.

  “Wow, this is amazing,” Brodie said, scooping a handful of M&M’s onto his waffles. “My mom doesn’t even let me eat this stuff at home.”

  “No joke,” Harper replied. “We must be dreaming.”

  As they continued filling their plates, they saw Director McGee enter the main doors across the room. He was wearing another goofy hat, which looked like a giant banana. He approached the food line and began chatting with all the campers.

  When he got to Harper and Brodie, he stuck out his hand for them to shake.

  Brodie reached for it, and a shock buzzed through his hand. He quickly took it back and tried to shake out the strange tingly feeling.

  Director McGee laughed and held up his palm, revealing a hand-buzzer from a gag shop.

  “Gotcha!” he said, laughing at his own joke. “Boy, I’m going to miss this. How did you campers sleep last night?”

  “Good, I guess,” Harper answered, still annoyed by the hand-buzzer prank on Brodie. She wasn’t sure what to think about Director McGee. “I admit, the built-in sound machines on each bunk and the celestial projection on the ceiling were pretty relaxing.”

  “Yeah, soft music was playing in our cabin all night,” Brodie added. “I probably could have slept through the entire week if the counselors hadn’t woken us up this morning with their barbershop quartet rendition of ‘Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’’!”