The next few weeks were constant torment as this new kid, Max, took up all the patience he had left.
"You can't stop me forever!" The hellion had exclaimed the first night, when David's heart had stopped after seeing the boy running past him in the woods while he was... patrolling. He'd reached out and snagged the kid with practiced reflexes, hoisting him over a shoulder and heading back to the camp while the kid pummelled his back and said things like, "Vive le révolution!" and "Wouldn't it be easier to just let me go?"
"Now, Max, I'm sure you'll like it here at Camp Campbell if you give it a chance," David patted the boy's back, "Homesickness is not an excuse for running out into the woods at night. Especially off-trail. That's dangerous and against the rules. If you're feeling homesick, you can just come find me or Gwen in the counselors' cabin, or go to Janette, one door down."
"Fat chance," Max relaxed, though, or gave up the idea of slipping David's grip so soon, "So what does Janette do around here if she's not a counselor? Besides sit on her ass."
Ah, David could work with curiosity. He grinned, "She's our manager, sort of. She does whatever needs to be done to keep things running smoothly and to make sure you all have a great time!"
"Well, she's doing a shit job of it, isn't she?" Max snorted.
"She does her best!" David retorted instinctively, stunned at the unprovoked attack. Though, soon enough, his own creeping curiosity prompted him to ask, "What would make you say that, Max?"
"The camp's a wreck," he said bluntly. "The sign on the way in is crooked, the bathrooms are gross, the light in the dining hall flickers, and I've already got a splinter from opening the door to the same damn hall." There was a pause as David digested this, then Max added, "Plus you've got all these fucking ghost town sports areas that creep me the fuck out."
"Language!" David brought Max down, hanging him under his arm so he could see his face. "Where does a ten-year-old learn words like that?"
"T.V., the internet, everywhere," Max listed off on his fingers sarcastically.
With a sigh, David looked down at this potential new victim of the people probably clawing their way closer to the camp with every moment he wasn't out there looking for them. He was surprised to see the boy looking back, narrowing murky green eyes at him.
"You better not be thinking of taking advantage of me just because we're all alone in the woods," Max accused, pointing a finger at him suspiciously, and David sputtered denying nonsense, flustered at the very thought.
"Max!" He exclaimed when his thoughts were back in order, but the scolding reassurance he'd intended was cut off by Max's mocking, "David!"
"Okay, look," David steamrolled on anyway. "I'd never lay a hand on a kid." Max looked disbelievingly up at him and then at the arm looped around his stomach keeping him suspended in the air. "You clearly know what I mean, Max. You're safe with me."
Max shot a sharp look at him for that, grumbling something to himself and wriggling down to the ground, now that David's hold had loosened with shock. David just held back an automatic swipe for the boy when Max held his hands up in surrender, "I'll go back for tonight if I can walk on my own."
Well, they were nearing the trail, and he'd cleared this area earlier... "Alright." Hesitating a moment too long to sound natural, David finally added, "But if I tell you that you need to run back, you have to listen, there's... bears."
"Aren't you not supposed to run from bears?" Max prodded. For a moment, David thought he was suspicious, but the boy's eyes held a malicious glint. Just trying to get a rise, then. "And this is yet another reason why camping sucks. They willingly drop you into bear-infested, nature-encrusted forests with spider-filled bathrooms." A visible shiver of disgust wracked the child; David patted his head, to Max's incoherent protest.
"I'll see what I can do about the bathrooms after the dining hall," he informed him. The list Max had spouted off so easily made him a little concerned for Janette. It was part of her job description to keep on top of that sort of maintenance – either ordering it done or doing it herself. Then again, she had been getting more and more listless lately. David was sure she was worried about the camp. They were... not in the best financial straits. He could empathize with having a job to do that fell on one person's shoulders alone. There had to be a way he could... pick up some of her slack. He owed it to her for being such a fantastic co-worker all these years!
Max was giving him a hard stare again, but David just grinned back when no more horrifying accusations were forthcoming.
"No one real can be this positive," Max decided as they entered the camp proper. "I will break you. Mark my words."
That was ominous.
An almost irritated uneasiness curled in his gut, but David laughed it off, "There's nothing to break, little buddy. Do you want me to get that splinter out?" Max shook his head, curling his fingers on his right hand defensively, and David swallowed down the protest that he really shouldn't leave it in there. Maybe he'd already had it looked at by Gwen. "Go on back to your tent now and get some sleep. It's bound to be a lovely day, so we'll all be swimming tomorrow!"
The morning dawned bright and clear before the storm clouds rolled in midday. He and Gwen ushered the kids out of the water and back into the dining hall, where David held the door open until all the campers were inside. Harrison was the only camper who'd somehow reverted back to his normal clothes, but that was to be expected with his being so very into magic.
David tousled the boy's hair, joking, "Can you quick-change back your friends, too?" When Harrison shrugged and the other children were also dressed, if less calm about it, David's face slackened for a moment before he decided to just roll with it, "Good job, kiddo!" What an amazing trick! He... He actually had no idea how Harrison had pulled it off! The boy gave him a quick, wary smile.
"What is this black magic?" Max was muttering, pulling out the collar of his hoody and peeking down the front, while the resident hulking bully, Nurf, sat rocking in the corner, heedless to sweet Dolph's attempts at calming him. Harrison's magical rival, Nerris, said something mocking about dice or turns or something – David had stopped listening once Gwen had taken over. She was looking over each and every child disbelievingly, asking Harrison pointed questions which he ignored in his argument with Nerris. She clearly had it under control. David, on the other hand, ducked his head into the kitchen and asked the Quartermaster to make the little angels some hot chocolate while he ran out to the storage shed.
"Gotta get some sandpaper!" He told Gwen cheerily as he walked back out into the rain. He could also do a quick check of the grounds. One never knew where danger lurked, after all.
For the trip to the shed, his luck held, but on his way back, he heard a rustle in the nearby bushes. He edged closer, dropping into a slight crouch, then plunged his arms in and grabbed the thing, causing it to shout as he yanked it out of the bushes.
He was met with a bedraggled Max, who was kicking and shouting, "What are you? Some kind of fucking survivalist? Who catches someone by sound!" A solid kick landed in David's stomach, knocking the air out of him with a breathed owie, before he switched up his hold, dangling the dripping boy by a foot at arm's length, "Don't fucking drop me!"
...How adorably persistent. He couldn't imagine missing home enough to try for it in this rain. Unwillingly, his watering eyes spilled over, but he supposed the rain itself might make that a bit hard to see as he promised, "I won't drop you, Max."
"This hold requires a little more than camping muscles!" Max protested indignantly, but David ignored it as he walked back towards the dining hall with his catch.
"Listen, Max," he interjected into a filthy stream of angry swearing, "I can't have you running off all the time. I know Camp Campbell isn't home, but by the time you leave here, we'll all feel like family. Just give it some time. Also, language." At Max's mutinous look, David pushed a hand through his own hair with a sigh, "How'd you get past Gwen anyway?"
"Magic," Max muttered, looking a little disconcerted at the memory of whatever it was.
"Okay, don't tell me," David replied, steamrolling over Max's incredulous you're kidding me, right. "But you can either help me out with sanding the door or I'll give you over to Gwen when we get back."
"You're super lame; I pick Gwen," Max crossed his arms over his chest, looking ridiculously cute for doing the gesture upside-down, hair bouncing below him.
"Okay... I sure hope you like holding magazines and flipping pages for Gwen for hours on end while she does her nails," David shrugged. "Sanding the handle of the door should take an hour."
Max groaned, "Fine. I hate you both equally. I'll sand the fucking door."
"Language, Max!"
Gwen was balancing a bottle of polish on Space Kid's helmet when they got back, though he appeared happy enough to be used as an end table.
"Nah, I love to help out!" Space Kid exclaimed at David's careful query on whether he'd rather join the others telling ghost stories.
"Well, alright. That's a great attitude to have," David laughed, credulity a bit strained. Harrison took one look at them and snapped his fingers, leaving Max, at least, dry and David sort of... windblown. David blinked between them and sent the boy a thumb's up which he somewhat hesitantly returned, looking a bit more confident that his magic tricks weren't being taken badly. Max was patting his clothes and muttering again as David ushered him back to the door.
He crouched down and pulled the strap over his shoulder, dropping the tool bag he'd retrieved from the shed to the floor. "Gloves, sandpaper," he held up each item to be taken by Max. Max took the sandpaper, and David held the gloves up further until Max snatched them with an irritable scowl, pulling them on with ill grace. When David held up a paper mask, Max just rolled his eyes and grabbed it.
Maybe that was overkill, but it never hurt to just assume every kid had unreported asthma. As for the rest, David didn't mind a few splinters, and his hands were calloused past the point of being bothered by sandpaper. Sure, it was bad practice, but it was only this once; he hadn't expected to have to discipline a camper again this quickly.
He demonstrated the right movements along the wooden plank that served as handle and push bar on the right-hand door, talking through it as he went, and Max grudgingly mimicked him on the left. They weren't exactly out in the rain, since the overhang of the roof protected them, but Max still grumbled about getting more wet.
Eventually his grumbles faded, and his lax strokes became more agitated, brow furrowed as he scraped away at the door. "It's gonna look awful," he informed David flatly.
"That's what paint is for," David smiled, "Though I'll have to wait for it to clear up, first."
"Don't you have a custodian or something for this kind of shit?" Max complained, and David shrugged. He didn't like to think of how the once bustling campgrounds had dwindled.
"You know," David's smile widened to a cheerful grin, "This reminds me of when I was a Camp Campbell camper, and an afternoon I once spent with Cameron Campbell."
"This sounds inappropriate," Max muttered under his breath as David rambled on, complete with enthusiastic gestures and facial expressions. Eventually, the sound of Max rhythmically bashing his head into the door reached Gwen, and she gingerly opened the door in confusion.
"Is everything okay...?"
"Save me," Max begged, holding the hem of her shirt in both hands as he stared pleadingly up at her.
"Gwen! I was just recalling a story to Max about old Camp Campbell! I can start from the beginning again if you-"
"No!" Gwen held a hand out desperately, "No, David."
"...Alrighty!" David gave her a thumbs up, feeling recharged by the time reminiscing with his camper, and he bounced to his feet. "Max, I think you've done enough work today! If you promise me you won't try to run away again, you can go back to your friends!"
"...r'not my friends..." Max murmured, hands deep in his pockets and retreating back into his hood as he stomped back into the building.
"Ugh, that's the troublemaker this summer, huh?" Janette's voice preceded her, and she rounded the corner rubbing at a temple. She was pale in the cloudy half-light, her eyes reddened and dark, "David, I'd like to talk to you this evening, if you can spare an hour."
"Anything for a good friend like you, Janette! You can talk to me anytime!" David bubbled, hoping she'd take the hint and open up about what was bothering her. There had to be something going on – with the camp or with her. Especially after Max's observations.
He almost hoped it wasn't just accumulated strain from trying to keep the camp afloat – there was little he could do about that.
"Yeah, thanks, David," she blew out an exasperated breath, and glanced at the slightly ajar dining hall doors before shaking her head. "I've got to go check on something." She pushed the doors shut as she turned to leave, "Make sure they don't let anything in, David. I'll see you later."
David's smile had frozen at the phrase, but he managed a weak goodbye.
That was an odd coincidence. But it was just a coincidence. Janette had been here for years. She wasn't running around after the kids or anything. Ridiculous to even think it, really.
A nervous laugh escaped him as the image of Janette broken and mangled flashed through his head, unbidden. Her head tilted at the odd angle that meant he'd broken... But he hadn't done anything and he wouldn't because Janette was not a threat. He would meet up with his good friend tonight and help her with whatever ailed her so they could continue to make Camp Campbell a great place for campers together!
"-vid. David! Are you okay?" Gwen shook his shoulder, leaning down to make eye contact, and David let loose another string of nervous laughter.
"Yeah, thanks buddy!" His eyes squeezed shut from the force of his grin, "Aw, Gwen I knew you cared- ouchie." The whack to his head had not been entirely unexpected, but it still put a pout on his face and tears in his eyes. Dangit, no matter how many times he told himself that that was just how his coworkers expressed their feelings, it still hurt his. At least the tears just burned his eyes instead of running down his face. He wasn't really up for any friendly teasing just then about how easily he could cry. His thoughts were still... Still... "Hey, Gwen?"
She looked down at him, still crouched and hunched over from the light blow like the drama queen he was. "What?"
David stumbled over the question, unsure how to ask you don't think the kids are evil beings letting something worse in, right? without sounding like he'd lost it. That uncertainty definitely showed. "You haven't got... You don't think... I mean, we've got a good group of campers this year, right? Can't help but like 'em?"
"If you say so," she said, dubiously, and David raised his head to meet her gaze with thinned lips, jaw set.
"Gwen, I'm asking you how you feel about the campers this year."
"Geez, okay, where's the fire?" Gwen laughed uneasily, one hand crossing over her chest to hang onto the other arm, "They're fine. They're kids, and kids are selfish, but they're just kids. You're not gonna get Janette to fire me for not singing their praises, right?"
Searching her eyes for a moment and making her inexplicably nervous, on her part, David sighed in relief, "No, Gwen; I'm glad you're my co-counselor." She offered her hand to help him up and he gave her a smile in return, "Camp buddies for life."
"Yay," she cheered weakly, "You sure you're okay?"
"I'm fantastic as long as I'm at Camp Campbell," David adjusted his scarf with a bit more pep, "Campe diem, Gwen!"
She shook her head, retreating back into the hall and David followed. The kids would need to get back to their tents soon, but for now he could just enjoy watching them laugh and play together, teach them some fun clapping games...
Was... Was that little astronaut kid preparing to propel himself from the rafters?
"Space Kid, no!"
When that was cleared up and Max and Erid had been sternly warned to stop encouraging Space Kid to throw himself off things to prepare for zero gravity, the kids were marched back to their tents and David was on his way to meet Janette.
He tried to keep his thoughts on the camp, on Janette and all the kindness she'd shown him over the years. How efficiently she'd kept things running, no matter how many staff members they were missing. But instead, images kept intruding, of her slashing a knife at him or a camper. Of her ragged and run down like the others.
David's cheery whistling got a little louder.
Gosh, he hoped he didn't wake any of the kids, but he really couldn't stop just yet. He was too anxious.
"David, a bit of quiet, please," Janette demanded, leaning against the threshold of her cabin and rubbing her forehead. He obliged, and she sighed, "I'm glad you're here, though. Come in."
"Alrighty." He followed her into the enclosed space with a bit of claustrophobic uneasiness, but sat readily on the only chair when she gestured.
"David, I've been thinking about the camp's troubles," she sat on the bed across from him and met his gaze, "We both know Campbell is involved in some less than legal things, but I never minded as long as he kept his priorities straight. I think he..." Her eyes searched his expectant face and she hesitated, then continued in a placating tone, "I know you think – I know you two are close, but you've seen how the camp keeps losing staff, and yet we're still up and running the next year. It's obvious, isn't it?"
"Well, you've always been smarter than I am, Janette," David admitted with a shameless smile, "So what's obvious to you can be a mystery to me!"
"I think Campbell is using the camp to launder money," Janette said bluntly, and David laughed.
"Oh, Janette, I thought you were going to tell me something serious!"
"What?" Janette seemed a bit shocked so David hastened to assuage her potentially hurt feelings. He knew it might have been insensitive to laugh, but David was just so relieved! The idea was ridiculous; he was sure Campbell was always working for the greater good. He'd do anything to keep the camp running. After all, the man was a camping legend.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Janette, I didn't mean to make light of something that's been worrying you. That wasn't very nice of me," he reached for her hand, but she pulled it back.
"David," she said slowly, as if explaining to a young child that fire is hot, "Campbell consistently refuses to engage with law enforcement even for minor things. He is frequently in nation states that don't expedite to the US, and he only ever arrives at Camp Campbell by private plane and helicopter. The past few years, he only shows up nervous and usually to hide something on the land. Everything about it feels off, wrong; even the campers, lately. David... Davey, he doesn't care about the camp, anymore. He's just using it." Unaware of exactly how many nope buttons she was pushing, she said softly, "He's using us."
"You're wrong," David stood up, a nervous laugh escaping him and a heat rising in his neck and face, "Mr. Campbell visits whenever he can. Sure, we'd all like to know why he's ducking the FBI," though David might already know, it might be all David's fault with Georgio's disappearance back then, "but that doesn't mean he doesn't care about the camp. Camp Campbell is his home." She was wrong.
"Campbell has homes around the globe," Janette argued, but her brief flash of anger subsided at the hot tears gathering in David's eyes and the hard set of his jaw. She glanced down and away, "I'm sorry, David. I should've known better than to say that to you, of all people."
...Well, he had said she could talk to him about anything... Frustration cooled by her tone, David reached out again, but remembering how she'd pulled back last time – then in a flash, how she'd look if she were dead – his fingers curled back and he drew his arm back to his middle, holding himself instead of his friend. "I did say you could tell me anything, Janette, and- and I do want to help you feel better, anyway I can."
"That's sweet," Janette stood, not meeting his eye, "But I don't think you can help me right now. Why don't you head back and get some sleep?"
"Janette," he tried again, but she was herding him towards the door, "Are you sure you don't want to talk this out?"
She smiled at him and shook her head.
When he'd been pushed out, she sat heavily at her desk and put her head in her hands. Rising from the floorboards, tendrils of misty fog curled around her ankles like affectionate cats.
"I know," she said aloud, not looking up, "I'll get them all away from here somehow. Whatever it takes."
The fog trembled ominously, and her forehead sank to touch the desk, voice toneless.
"I won't let them get in."
David's eyes widened outside the door.
Oh, no. No, he'd misheard. He'd paused, turned around because she'd seemed so confused in her thinking – after all, who could accuse Mr. Campbell of not caring? – and he thought he might've made a mistake just letting her push him out like that and he couldn't...
Not Janette.
He was tensing already, plans streaming through his head relentlessly. It wasn't... He hadn't seen her do anything threatening. And it could be – it was another coincidence. Sure, she'd been weary lately, but who wouldn't be with all the good work she... she used to do. Max had been right. Janette hadn't been doing her job lately. David never wanted to think ill of another person, but he had to face facts.
"Janette," he canted his voice placatingly as he knocked on the door, "Janette, I think you're right. Can we talk?"
The door opened, "You do?" There was so much hope there, her eyes wide, and it clenched around his heart painfully. There was a chance he was wrong. She had a chance.
"Come on," he said, gesturing towards the trail into the forest, "I didn't want to admit it to myself, but... You're right. We've got to figure out what to do to keep the camp safe. I know I always think better walking."
There was a split second where he thought the look in her eyes flickered, something colder surfacing before it was gone. He hoped he was fooling himself. "Okay."
"Really, what are our options, though?" David rambled as they walked, "I mean, if we tried to turn in Mr. Campbell, we don't have any solid proof, and who knows what would happen to the camp! Still, I'm sure together we can find a way to stop Mr. Campbell's abuse of the camp." In that vein, he concocted progressively less plausible plans with Janette interjecting common sense and seemingly trusting that David really had prioritized the camp over Mr. Campbell. He hoped. When they were far enough away, David paused and leaned in conspiratorially, "Janette, I know what's really going on." Hopefully, she would have no idea what he was on about, and he could laugh the whole thing off as a bad joke.
"What do you mean? We've been talking about it for-"
"You know they're going to let them in," he interrupted, focused entirely on her expression.
"You know?" Janette asked, face slackening before she became paradoxically more tense, "When..? It told you when it came for me?"
David nodded, wondering what the heck she thought visited her because her cabin had been empty to his eyes, "How long have you known?"
"Oh god, David," she gripped his shoulder, leaning her weight into him, "I was so alone for so long. I knew I couldn't handle them all on my own, so I was just going to get them away, but now..." She smiled, "There's two of us."
"We could still get them away," David suggested, probing for more information, and feeling his heart crust over painfully, hardening against what would happen, "How far would work-"
"Don't be dense, David." Her words were scolding, but her tone still shone with relief, "You know the seal has been unbalanced for too long. Each year the marked ones strain the seal until they go, and the lack of sacrifice keeps the seal from healing." Sacrifice. It was... Her hopeful eyes looked like a stranger's, just like Georgio's blank ones. Blood poured through David's mind.
"Ah, yes," David nodded, and his words weren't his own; he was removed, floating back in his own mind away from the situation even as he tensed in preparation, "But couldn't we unmark the campers...?"
She scoffed, opened her mouth to speak, and stopped. "You know we can't, David," she said slowly, "Or you should know."
"I'm really sorry about this, Janette." He lashed out as she tried to bolt, grabbing an arm and then the other and dragging her in.
"David, David, they'll break the seal, those kids-" she tried to elbow him but David's grip was iron, and she inhaled to scream. He threw her to the ground, knocking the breath from her, and stomped on her wrist. Hopefully, they were far enough away that the sound didn't travel much, because she did shriek then. When Janette curled instinctively, he dropped down, wrestling her hands over her head and pinning them. His other hand moved down to cover her mouth and pinched her nose. She bucked, kicked, but when it came down to it, David was bigger and used to it. Plus, you know, broken wrist.
"I really wish it didn't have to be like this," he told her, "And I'm sorry about the wrist, but clawing hurts and I know you're a fighter." Her eyes glared death at him as she struggled, and David didn't look away from it, giving her a weak smile, "I do value our friendship, for what it's worth. Though clearly I can't just let a friend do something like kill a bunch of innocent kids."
She was starting to still now, jerking only occasionally as David continued to talk, "If it means anything to you, I'll try to figure out what seal you were talking about."
Finally, Janette stopped moving, eyes rolling up and slipping closed. After a minute more, David gingerly released his hold on her wrists to reach down and take her head in his hands, steadier than he had any right to expect.
It wasn't as hard as he'd thought, now that he'd done it.
There was no creeping doubt, or fear that he'd made a mistake with her motivations. Even the guilt was manageable. Looking at her slack, pale face, already beginning to bruise, he managed a tremulous smile, "I'll miss you, Janette." And her neck made an awful cracking noise.
It was a turning point.
...
(Photo sourced from UnSplash https://unsplash.com/es/@craft_ear)