Phil and the Ghost of Camp Ch-Yo-Ca (9 page)

THE GOOD NEWS:
you're brave enough to jump into Bluff Springs Lake.

The bad news: instead of diving into the water to get to John Luke, you end up landing on the back of the spider as it dashes past.

You don't get off, though
 
—you decide you might as well ride the sucker. It can't bite you if you're up here . . . you hope not, anyway.

This spider looks more like some kind of mutant crab, with long, spiky legs and pinchers. Even with your weight on it, the spider doesn't sink.

You hold on more tightly as the spider scurries away from John Luke, toward the shore. As it arrives on the rocks and dirt, it stops abruptly and you get bolted off to one side. You nearly land on your head and topple across the ground. The
spider continues toward the woods, then seems to change its mind. It stops and begins walking toward you again, slower this time.

You wish you had your gun. Or your knife. Or any kind of weapon. But you don't have a thing.

You're stuck and you're about to be attacked by a massive monster spider, and all you have are your bare hands.

I can still take that creature on.

It seems to pause for a moment, perhaps readying itself to attack. You get to your feet and prepare to strike back at the thing. Then a gun blast goes off.

It's the sound of a shotgun. The round body of the spider explodes just in time.

You look behind you and see John Luke emerging from the water. But he's not holding a gun.

“That's what I call hitting the bull's-eye, Jack!”

Si is standing on the hill above the lake, shotgun in hand. “What in the world are you mermaids doing swimming in the lake with that thing?”

You walk up to the motionless spider. “You ever seen a bug this big?”

“Yeah, sure.” Si nods. “There were some big ones over in Vietnam.”

“They weren't like this.”

“Hey, look, they were even bigger. We had to use helicopters to take them down.” Then he starts humming
Ride of the Valkyries
. “Ta-dah-dah-dah-dah-dah, dah-dah-dah-
dah
-dah, dah-dah-dah-
dah
-dah, dah-dah-dah-dah.”

Now John Luke is standing next to you.

You glare at him. “Told you not to go in the water.”

“Thanks for jumping on the spider. That was cool.”

“I was trying to help you. I didn't think I'd be riding a bull spider.”

“I heard this place had a few cobwebs around,” Si says.

“Just a few,” you tell him.

“Good thing I brought my shotgun.”

You poke one of the spider's long legs. “Ever eaten giant spider legs?”

“I hope that's the last one we run into,” John Luke says.

Si clears his throat. “I hope I never see another spider in my life.”

You agree with your brother. You've done your part out here. Maybe you'll finally call animal control and let them take over.

THE END

Start over.

Read “The Shadows That Follow Us: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”

THESE COMMERCIALS SURE ARE BORING,
and this recliner sure is cozy . . .

Next thing you know, a banging sound wakes you up. You feel a slight breeze on your face. The door must be open. You let your eyes adjust and squint across the room at John Luke’s bed.

It’s empty.

What’s he up to now?

Maybe he’s taking a midnight stroll. Nothing wrong with that. Unless this place really is haunted, in which case things could get bad. But neither you nor John Luke are worried about anything like that . . . well, not too worried. Just in case, you pull yourself out of your chair and go outside to see where he might be.

Maybe he sneaked outside to talk to a girl . . . but you thought all the girls went home.

Maybe he can’t sleep, and he’s thinking and praying.

You stand right outside the cabin door and listen, but you don’t hear anything, so you consider your options. There are three main places for kids at the camp, if you remember right: the cabins, the gym, and the lake. The lights are off in the gym, and the boys’ cabins are silent. So you decide to try the lake.

By the time you walk the wooded path to the top of the small hill that leads down to the water, you hear something besides the familiar sound of the small waterfall nearby.

Someone splashing.

Did John Luke sneak a girl down to the lake to swim with?

You think you know the answer, but then again, you remember when you were a teenager. If you had some more smarts and soul back then, you would’ve saved yourself a lot of trouble later on. But you can’t go back in time, can you?

Unless you spot an outhouse time machine in the middle of the . . . Oh, never mind.

When you get closer to the water, the nearly full moon reflecting on its surface, you confirm that only one figure’s swimming in it. John Luke’s head bobs up and down as he cuts through the still waters.

You step onto the dock that juts into the lake.

John Luke flips over and splashes with his legs. You laugh as you watch him, figuring he couldn’t sleep and was maybe just hot. You’re feeling kinda warm yourself.

You glance up at the sky and stare at the moon for a mo
ment. Beautiful. Then you spot something in the water. Something breaking the smooth surface.

Something other than John Luke.

You squint, trying to bring it into focus.

I need more light.

Your eyes are playing tricks on you. Surely.

But a steady wake is coming across the lake, closer and closer. It’s making a straight line toward John Luke.

And you swear there’s a fin sticking out of the water. Like a shark fin.

But that’s crazy.

It’s still coming nearer, faster.

“Hey, John Luke,” you call.

But you know he can’t hear you. And this has gotta be the moonlight and the shadowy lake playing tricks on you.

But no . . . it’s closer now.

Something even stranger is happening too. Because with every inch of progress the shape makes, you feel your heart turn over with a trembling, booming beat.

Daaauh.

Daaauh.

Daaauh.

Daaauh daaauh.

Daaauh daaauh daaauh daaauh.

Bombombombombombombombombom.

You get the idea.

You know how this is going to end.

“John Luke!” you shout, urgent now.

But he still hasn’t seen you, still can’t hear. Still has no idea he’s being chased by a shark.

My heartbeat is becoming stronger, faster. Or is that actually music?

“John Luke, get out of the water! The music is louder
 
—get out!”

But he’s oblivious.

“John Luke, come on. Listen
 
—don’t you hear it? It’s John Williams
 
—can’t you hear? Get out! Get out now!”

The volume of the music keeps increasing.

Where’s this music coming from?

The fin has almost caught up to John Luke.

Hasn’t it been moving across the lake for a long time? I mean, shouldn’t this scene be over now?

Bigger, stronger, faster, wilder.

More tuba. More tuba!

And then.

Then.

No.

No!

(Keep playing, orchestra!)

Faster
 
—faster
 
—faster.

Noooooooooooooo.

You wipe the sweat off your forehead, scream, and then . . .

You’re in front of the little cabin television. It’s a late-night showing of
Jaws
.

A fan blows on your face, and your bare feet are propped up in the recliner. Other than the muted sound of the television, you can’t hear anything. John Luke is secure in his bed.

But your heart is racing as quickly as before.

You could’ve sworn you were just out by the lake. . . .

But you’re here now. Which is a good thing.

Maybe, though, to be on the safe side, you’ll discuss this dream with John Luke in the morning. Just to give him a helpful warning. About being careful next time he goes swimming. And watching out for unusual animals.

Especially ones with fins.

As long as your imagination doesn’t get the better of you again, you’ll be prepared to resume this investigation in the morning. But maybe you’ll save the lake for last.

THE END

Start over.

Read “The Shadows That Follow Us: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”

YOU RETRIEVE THE AX
from the cabin and hold it in front of you, ready to cut off a tail. Ready to engage in hand-to-hand combat.

Some might say you’re old, but your brain still works at optimal level. People don’t understand. Behind this beard and these camo pants is a man capable of keeping up with Jason Bourne.

Age is all in your head. And in my head, I’m still twenty-seven. Active and kicking.

You approach the sounds. And the closer you get, the more they start to change.

At first, they suggest some kind of animal gnawing down a tree in the wilderness. But then suddenly you hear something different.

“Can you make me some coffee?” Miss Kay’s voice says.

You stop and turn around in the forest.

What in the world?

You keep walking until you hear another voice.

“Those ducks are coming any second now.”

That was Si talking, as if the two of you are in a duck blind this very instant.

You slow down, the ax ready for whatever lies ahead. You notice a strange blue glow in the woods.

“Aw, come on,” a voice says. “Everybody knows you gotta send out a decoy first.”

That’s definitely Jase.

You move forward like you’re in a dream. Different voices talking to you from all around.

“Yeah, I think it’s gonna be fine.”

That’s Mac Owen, one of your best friends. Is he visiting from Colorado?

What’s going on? Am I dreaming?

The voices continue, and the cold blue glow gets progressively brighter until you climb a hill and see where the light is coming from.

There’s some kind of black shape that appears to be floating in the middle of the woods.

You hold the ax steady, ready to strike. But this isn’t an animal. It’s something you’ve never seen.

It’s one of those times where you stumble onto something that you just look at and go,
Huh?
with your mouth open.

Well, your mouth may be hanging open, but it’s hidden in your beard.

The black object that’s hanging there looks a lot like . . .

You get closer.

It doesn’t look like one
 
—it
is
one.

It’s a duck call.

A gigantic black floating duck call, like nothing you’ve seen on Earth.

This thing seems to draw you closer. You keep walking toward it.

Then you hear Elton John singing “Rocket Man.” No, not Elton John. This singer has a terrible voice . . . and he doesn’t seem to know the lyrics.
Si?

You don’t know what’s happening. But there must be a bigger meaning here. Another picture. A different story. A different book, even.

You keep walking ahead, step by step. You drop the ax and hold out your hand.

You can’t imagine that this thing has anything to do with the strange goings-on at the camp. But you need to find the truth behind this hovering, hulking duck call in the middle of nowhere.

It might be time to move to book three.

THE END

Start over.

Read “The Shadows That Follow Us: A Note from John Luke Robertson.”