09 - Welcome to Camp Nightmare (9 page)

Read 09 - Welcome to Camp Nightmare Online

Authors: R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead)

I was too worried about Jay and Colin to enjoy the games.

Maybe they decided to camp out overnight,
I told myself.

But I had seen them leave, and I knew they hadn’t taken any tents or sleeping
bags or other overnight supplies.

So where
were
they?

The games ended a little before lights-out. As I followed the crowd to the
door, Larry appeared beside me. “We’re leaving early tomorrow,” he said. “First
thing.”

“Huh?” I didn’t understand what he meant.

“The canoe trip. I’m the canoe counselor. I’ll be taking you guys,” he
explained, seeing my confusion.

“Oh. Okay,” I replied without enthusiasm. I was so worried about Jay and
Colin, I’d nearly forgotten about the canoe trip.

“Right after breakfast,” Larry said. “Wear a bathing suit. Bring a change of
clothes. Meet me at the waterfront.” He hurried back to help the other
counselors pull the tables into place.

“After breakfast,” I muttered. I wondered if Jay and Colin were also coming
on the canoe trip. I had forgotten to ask Larry.

I headed quickly down the dark hill. The dew had already fallen, and the tall
grass was slippery and wet. Halfway down, I could see the dark outline of the
Forbidden Bunk, hunched forward as if preparing to strike.

Forcing myself to look away, I jogged the rest of the way to Bunk 4.

To my surprise, I could see through the window that someone was moving around
inside.

Colin and Jay are back!
I thought.

Eagerly, I pushed open the door and burst inside. “Hey—where’ve you guys
been?” I cried.

I stopped short. And gasped.

Two strangers stared back at me.

One was sitting on the edge of Colin’s bunk, pulling off his sneakers. The
other was leaning over the dresser, pulling a T-shirt from one of the drawers.

“Hi. You in here?” the boy at the dresser stood up straight, his eyes
studying me. He had very short black hair and a gold stud in one ear.

I swallowed hard. “Am I in the wrong bunk? Is this Bunk Four?”

They both stared at me, confused.

I saw that the other boy, the one in Colin’s bunk, also had black hair, but
his was long and scraggly and fell over his forehead. “Yeah. This is Bunk Four,”
he said.

“We’re new,” the short-haired boy added. “I’m Tommy, and he’s Chris. We just
started today.”

“Hi,” I said uncertainly. “My name’s Billy.” My heart was pounding like a
tom-tom in my chest. “Where’re Colin and Jay?”

“Who?” Chris asked. “They told us this bunk was mostly empty.”

“Well, Colin and Jay—” I started.

“We just arrived. We don’t know anyone,” Tommy interrupted. He pushed the
drawer shut.

“But that’s Jay’s drawer,” I said, bewildered, pointing. “What did you do
with Jay’s stuff?”

Tommy gazed back at me in surprise. “The drawer was empty,” he replied.

“Almost all the drawers were empty,” Chris added, tossing his sneakers to the
floor. “Except for the bottom two drawers.”

“That’s my stuff,” I said, my head spinning. “But Colin and Jay—their stuff
was here,” I insisted.

“The whole cabin was empty,” Tommy said. “Maybe your friends got moved.”

“Maybe,” I said weakly. I sat down on the lower bunk beneath my bed. My legs
felt shaky. A million thoughts were whirring through my mind, all of them
frightening.

“This is weird,” I said aloud.

“It’s not a bad bunk,” Chris said, pulling down his blanket and settling in.
“Kind of cozy.”

“How long you staying at camp?” Tommy asked, pulling on an oversized white
T-shirt. “All summer?”

“No!” I exclaimed with a shudder. “I’m not staying!” I sputtered. “I mean… I
mean… I’m leaving. On… uh… I’m leaving on Visitors Day next week.”

Chris flashed Tommy a surprised glance. “Huh? When are you leaving?” he asked
again.

“On Visitors Day,” I repeated. “When my parents come up for Visitors Day.”

“But didn’t you hear Uncle Al’s announcement before dinner?” Tommy asked,
staring hard at me. “Visitors Day has been canceled!”

 

 
17

 

 

I drifted in and out of a troubled sleep that night. Even with the
blanket pulled up to my chin, I felt chilled and afraid.

It felt so weird to have two strange guys in the bunk, sleeping where Jay and
Colin had slept. I was worried about my missing friends.

What had happened to them? Why hadn’t they come back?

As I tossed restlessly in my top bunk, I heard howls off in the distance.
Animal cries, probably coming from the Forbidden Bunk. Long, frightening howls
carried by the wind into our open bunk windows.

At one point, I thought I heard kids screaming. I sat up straight, suddenly
alert, and listened.

Had I dreamed the frightful shrieks? I was so scared and confused, it was
impossible to tell what was real and what was a nightmare.

It took hours to fall back to sleep.

I awoke to a gray, overcast morning, the air heavy and cold. Pulling on swim
trunks and a T-shirt, I raced to the lodge to find Larry. I had to find out what
had happened to Jay and Colin.

I searched everywhere for him without success. Larry wasn’t at breakfast.
None of the other counselors admitted to knowing anything. Frank, the counselor
who had taken my two friends on the hike, was also not there.

I finally found Larry at the waterfront, preparing a long metal canoe for our
river trip. “Larry—where are they?” I cried out breathlessly.

He gazed up at me, holding an armload of canoe paddles. His expression turned
to bewilderment. “Huh? Chris and Tommy? They’ll be here soon.”

“No!” I cried, grabbing his arm. “Jay and Colin! Where are they? What
happened to them, Larry? You’ve
got
to tell me!”

I gripped his arm tightly. I was gasping for breath. I could feel the blood
pulsing at my temples. “You’ve got to tell me!” I repeated shrilly.

He pulled away from me and let the paddles fall beside the canoe. “I don’t
know anything about them,” he replied quietly.

“But, Larry!”

“Really, I don’t,” he insisted in the same quiet voice. His expression
softened. He placed a hand on my trembling shoulder. “Tell you what, Billy,” he
said, staring hard into my eyes. “I’ll ask Uncle Al about it after our trip,
okay? I’ll find out for you. When we get back.”

I stared back at him, trying to decide if he was being honest.

I couldn’t tell. His eyes were as calm and cold as marbles.

He leaned forward and pushed the canoe into the shallow river water. “Here.
Take one of those life preservers,” he said, pointing to a pile of blue rubber
vests behind me. “Strap it on. Then get in.”

I did as he instructed. I saw that I had no choice.

Chris and Tommy came running up to us a few seconds later. They obediently
followed Larry’s instructions and strapped on the life preserver vests.

A few minutes later, the four of us were seated cross-legged inside the long,
slender canoe, drifting slowly away from the shore.

The sky was still charcoal gray, the sun hidden behind hovering dark clouds.
The canoe bumped over the choppy river water. The current was stronger than I
had realized. We began to pick up speed. The low trees and shrubs along the
riverbank slid past rapidly.

Larry sat facing us in the front of the canoe. He demonstrated how to paddle
as the river carried us away.

He watched carefully, a tight frown on his face, as the three of us struggled
to pick up the rhythm he was showing us. Then, when we finally seemed to catch
on, Larry grinned and carefully turned around, gripping the sides of the canoe
as he shifted his position.

“The sun is trying to come out,” he said, his voice muffled in the strong
breeze over the rippling water.

I glanced up. The sky looked darker than before.

He stayed with his back to us, facing forward, allowing the three of us to do
the paddling. I had never paddled a canoe before. It was harder than I’d
imagined. But as I fell into the rhythm of it with Tommy and Chris, I began to
enjoy it.

Dark water smacked against the prow of the canoe, sending up splashes of
white froth. The current grew stronger, and we picked up speed. The air was
still cold, but the steady work of rowing warmed me. After a while, I realized I
was sweating.

We rowed past tangles of yellow- and gray-trunked trees. The river suddenly
divided in two, and we shifted our paddles to take the left branch. Larry began
paddling again, working to keep us off the tall rocks that jutted between the
river branches.

The canoe bobbed up and slapped down. Bobbed up and slapped down. Cold water
poured over the sides.

The sky darkened even more. I wondered if it was about to storm.

As the river widened, the current grew rapid and strong. I realized we didn’t
really need to paddle. The river was doing most of the work.

The river sloped down. Wide swirls of frothing white water made the canoe
leap and bounce.

“Here come the rapids!” Larry shouted, cupping his hands around his mouth so
we could hear him. “Hang on! It gets pretty wild!”

I felt a tremor of fear as a wave of icy water splashed over me. The canoe
rose up on a shelf of white water, then hit hard as it landed.

I could hear Tommy and Chris laughing excitedly behind me.

Another icy wave rolled over the canoe, startling me. I cried out and nearly
let go of my paddle.

Tommy and Chris laughed again.

I took a deep breath and held on tightly to the paddle, struggling to keep up
the rhythm.

“Hey, look!” Larry cried suddenly.

To my astonishment, he climbed to his feet. He leaned forward, pointing to
the swirling white water.

“Look at those fish!”

As he leaned down, the canoe was jarred by a powerful rush of current. The
canoe spun to the right.

I saw the startled look on Larry’s face as he lost his balance. His arms shot
forward, and he plunged headfirst into the tossing waters.

“Noooooo!” I screamed.

I glanced back at Tommy and Chris, who had stopped paddling and were staring
into the swirling murky waters, their expressions frozen in openmouthed horror.

“Larry! Larry!” I was screaming the name over and over without realizing it.

The canoe continued to slide rapidly down the churning waters.

Larry didn’t come up.

“Larry!”

Behind me, Tommy and Chris also called out his name, their voices shrill and
frightened.

Where was he? Why didn’t he swim to the surface?

The canoe was drifting farther and farther downriver.

“Larrrrrry!”

“We have to stop!” I screamed. “We have to slow down!”

“We can’t!” Chris shouted back. “We don’t know how!”

Still no sign of Larry. I realized he must be in trouble.

Without thinking, I tossed my paddle into the river, climbed to my feet, and
plunged into the murky swirling waters to save him.

 

 
18

 

 

I jumped without thinking and swallowed a mouthful of water as I
went down.

My heart thudded in my chest as I struggled frantically to the surface,
sputtering and choking.

Gasping in a deep breath, I lowered my head and tried to swim against the
current. My sneakers felt as if they weighed a thousand pounds.

I realized I should have pulled them off before I jumped.

The water heaved and tossed. I moved my arms in long, desperate strokes,
pulling myself toward the spot where Larry had fallen. Glancing back, I saw the
canoe, a dark blur growing smaller and smaller.

“Wait!” I wanted to shout to Tommy and Chris. “Wait for me to get Larry!”

But I knew that they didn’t know how to slow the canoe. They were helpless as
the current carried them away.

Where was Larry?

I sucked in another mouthful of air—and froze as I felt a sharp cramp in my
right leg.

The pain shot up through my entire right side.

I slid under the water and waited for the pain to lessen.

The cramp seemed to tighten until I could barely move my leg. Water rushed
over me. I struggled to pull myself up to the surface.

As I choked in more air, I stroked rapidly and hard, pulling myself up,
ignoring the sharp pain in my leg.

Hey!

What was that object floating just ahead of me? A piece of driftwood being
carried by the current?

Murky water washed over me, blinding me, tossing me back. Sputtering, I
pulled myself back up.

Water rolled down my face. I struggled to see.

Larry!

He came floating right to me.

“Larry! Larry!” I managed to scream.

But he didn’t answer me. I could see clearly now that he was floating
facedown.

The leg cramp started to loosen up as I reached out with both arms and
grabbed Larry’s shoulders. I pulled his head up from the water, rolled him onto
his back, and wrapped my arm around his neck. I was using the lifesaving
technique my parents had taught me.

Turning downriver, I searched for the canoe. But the current had carried it
out of sight.

I swallowed another mouthful of icy water. Choking, I held on to Larry. I
kicked hard. My right leg still felt tight and weak, but at least the pain had
gone. Kicking and pulling with my free hand, I dragged Larry toward the shore.

To my relief, the current helped. It seemed to pull in the same direction.

A few seconds later, I was close enough to shore to stand. Wearily, panting
like a wild animal, I tottered to my feet and dragged Larry onto the wet mud of
the shore.

Was he dead? Had he drowned before I reached him?

I stretched him out on his back and, still panting loudly, struggling to
catch my breath, to stop my entire body from trembling, I leaned over him.

And he opened his eyes.

He stared up at me blankly, as if he didn’t recognize me.

Finally, he whispered my name. “Billy,” he choked out, “are we okay?”

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