Chapter Nine

CHAPTER 9

The camera blinks off again, and the screen goes dark.

"Did you see that?" I ask.

Bezi glances back at me. "What?"

"I saw someone in the tunnel under the boathouse hatch."

"Who?" Bezi asks. "Kyle or Javier?"

"I—I couldn't tell." The lighting down there is low on purpose. We don't want the guests knowing we have access to trapdoors and secret tunnels. It adds to the illusion of the game, but nobody is supposed to be down there now that the final game is canceled. The camera flickers back on, and whoever was standing there is now gone.

"Come on," I say.

We leave the control center and walk along the edge of Mirror Lake as a cool breeze whips the surface into a cascade of ripples. The water is muddy, dark, and almost impossible to see through as it laps against the sandy shoreline.

"I wish we could have gotten more information out of Javier's grandma. She sounded really upset that he was up here."

"She was willing to drive up to get him and she doesn't even have a license," Bezi says.

I hold the envelope of clippings tight. "Like, what happened? Maybe the people running the camp were reckless or something? You can't have people up here and just turn them loose. Hikers and campers get lost in the woods all the time. People drown in lakes and rivers. There are wild animals. It's dangerous."

"Maybe," says Bezi, sighing. "It's not like people had seen something like Friday the 13th or The Curse of Camp Mirror Lake back then. Paige is always talking about the rules of horror, but she gets all that from watching movies. People like Javier's grandma didn't have references like that."

"I guess," I say as we approach the Western Lodge. "I still don't like the fact that Mr. Lamont was lying to me about what was in that closet."

We're crossing the dirt trail that runs in front of the lodge when Bezi tightens her grip on my arm. Her face is a mask of confusion, and as I follow her gaze, I see why. The little mound of dirt where she buried the dead owl is turned up. The dark, damp soil is scattered across the grass and on the trail. Bezi lets go of my arm and takes a step toward the little grave, but I grab hold of her.

"No," I say, my heart thudding in my chest. "Wait here. I'll check."

She stands in silence as I approach the hole in the ground.

"Well?" Bezi asks, not bothering to lift her gaze from the ground immediately in front of her.

"It's—it's empty." My throat suddenly feels tight, like I can't breathe. I pull at the collar of my shirt. "Sometimes animals do this," I say, trying to think if that's a real thing that happens. "They could probably smell it."

Bezi presses her lips together and shakes her head. I quickly gather her up and lead her to the lodge, but we only make it to the second step when we learn the terrible fate of the deceased owl. Bezi gasps, but I can't breathe at all. The owl's broken body lies on the welcome mat of the lodge, just outside the front door. Dirt clings to its feathers, and it's intact except for the eyes—those blank, glassy eyes that were so much like Rob's hideous collection of dead things—that have been plucked out of its head.

Bezi screams, and the sound cuts through my brain like a knife. Footsteps sound from inside, and a moment later, Javier flings open the door. He looks like he just woke up, and Kyle is right behind him carrying two black trash bags. They immediately register the dead bird.

"What the hell is this?" Javier asks, crouching down to get a better look.

"Another owl?" Kyle asks.

I rush Bezi inside, and both Javier and Kyle come in behind us. I steer Bezi to the couch and make her sit.

"Not a different owl," I say. "The same one. Something dug it up."

Javier and Kyle exchange confused glances.

"How is it the same one?" Javier asks. "Bezi buried it."

"I don't know, Javi!" I shout. "Just give me a minute to think!"

Silence swallows the room. My mind goes in circles as I try to justify the reappearance of the decomposing owl.

"Something, some animal, must have dug it up and dragged it onto the porch," I say once I've gathered myself enough to do more than just yell at Javier.

"What animal?" Kyle asks quietly. "I can't think of anything that would do that."

"Dogs would," I say. "Dogs can do that."

Kyle presses his lips together. "When have you ever seen a dog out here, Charity? And it was on the porch. If an animal dug it up, wouldn't it take it somewhere and eat it?"

Bezi groans, and I gently rub her back. Kyle's right, but I don't know what that means. Something dug up that owl and put it on the mat.

"I don't wanna talk about it anymore," Bezi says. "We have to do something with it, though."

"I'll take care of it," Kyle says. He disappears out the door, trash bags in hand, and returns a few minutes later. He gives me a nod. "Did you guys find anything in the control center?" he asks.

I'm happy to change the subject, and I can tell by the way Bezi sighs that she is too.

"Maybe," I say, setting the envelope of newspaper clippings on one of the tables in front of the couch. "That room Mr. Lamont told me was storage for extra equipment is just a room full of moldy old boxes. We found a bunch of stuff, but I wanted to show you these." I spread the clippings out across the table. "This article is from 1962, and it says a camper went missing from this exact area and that their remains were never recovered. There're a few more just like this from '62 to '71. And then this from late 1971. It's a little blip in a local paper, but it says the summer camp that was right here on these grounds closed. It doesn't say what happened."

"My grandma told you what happened," Javier says. "Six kids dead in one night. You think she's lying?"

"I didn't say that," I say firmly. "I don't know what to think. If six people were massacred in the woods, there would be more about it, right? A lot of people don't really like what we do here. They're always looking for ways to try and get this place shut down, but it never happens. Somebody would have dragged this up at some point, right? They'd be shouting about it to make us seem like insensitive jerks."

Bezi nods. "Paige said she has access to all kinds of archives and stuff, but are they just things about Groton? Maybe she can try another town close by to see if it got reported there—Cortland or Ithaca, maybe?"

"And we don't think Mr. Lamont knows about this?" Kyle asks. "Or what—he's covering it up?"

"I mean, he specifically told me not to go in that storage room," I say. "And he lied about what was in there, so I think he knows something."

"It could go either way," Javier says. "Mr. Lamont might like the fact that some kids got killed up here and is just waiting for the right way to market it, or he might think it's terrible and just not want anyone to know what happened."

I guess it could be either of those things, but I don't know Mr. Lamont well enough to decide which is more likely. I've only been in the same room with him a handful of times, and mostly we just talk on the phone. I really hope he isn't planning on using the deaths as some kind of marketing tool. That just doesn't sit right with me. I pick up my phone to call Mr. Lamont, but I don't have a signal.

"Great," I mumble. I glance at the time. It's pushing five o'clock. "I wish Tasha and them would hurry up and get back. It's gonna get dark soon."

"Paige thinks she's some investigative journalist or something," Bezi says. "And Tasha's just going right along with it."

I nudge Bezi with my shoulder. "You know how they are. It's always all or nothing with them."

Bezi nods and rests her head on my shoulder.

"I can make dinner," Kyle says. "It's gonna be hot dogs and chips again, because that's pretty much all we got left."

"For somebody who plays a serial killer every night, you really are just the sweetest guy," I say. "I appreciate all your help. I know you were ready to get up outta here."

"Yeah, well, it's not like I have anything better to do," he says, smiling.

"I guess I don't get a compliment," Javier says.

I shrug. "I appreciate you too. Even if you get on my nerves."

He grins, and I suddenly remember what I saw on the monitor in the control center. "Hey, were you by any chance under the trapdoor in the boathouse a little while ago?"

Javier's brow furrows. "Today?" He shakes his head. "I've been asleep almost the whole time you were gone."

I turn to Kyle, and he shakes his head.

"I was cleaning out that nasty overflow fridge in the back," he says. "Why? What happened?"

"The camera that monitors the boathouse hatch kept going in and out," I say. "It came back on real quick, and I thought I saw something—someone—on the monitor."

"Ummmm," Kyle says nervously. "We were both in here the whole time you were gone. I swear."

"I believe you. I just—" I get up and walk around the breakfast bar, into the kitchen area, and kick aside the tattered rug that sits in front of the prep counter. The wooden floor slats run from left to right, and they're all a light oak color, but there is a square of flooring about three feet wide that's a shade darker than the rest. I crouch down and press the center board, and it flips up, revealing a small ring pull. Under the secret hatch is a tunnel that runs from the main lodge to the boathouse. We use it nightly to move Kyle from one place to another without the guests seeing him. It gives the illusion that he, much like the killers in Friday the 13th and Halloween, is always a step ahead and that he can appear and disappear at will. I reach down and grasp the pull.

"Wait, wait, wait," Bezi says, scrambling over and putting her hand on my shoulder. "What are you doing?"

"We should check and see if there's anything down there," I say.

"Hold up," Javier says. He goes to the closet and grabs a broom. He wields it like a sword, swinging it around in front of him. It makes a whooshing sound as he whips it through the air.

Kyle jumps back. "You wanna watch where you're swinging that thing? Damn." He edges around me and stands on the opposite side of the hatch. "What are you gonna do with that anyway?"

"Gotta be prepared," Javier says, without any hint that he's joking.

"To sweep the floor?" Bezi asks.

Javier spins the broom around in his hand, and Kyle ducks even though the broom isn't anywhere near him.

"Come on," I say. "I'll open the hatch on three."

Bezi grips my shoulder as Kyle balls his fists at his sides. Javier grips the broom so tight that his knuckles pale. I feel sorry for anything that might be down there, because we're either about to beat the shit out of an intruder or a defenseless raccoon.

I take a deep breath. "One . . . two . . . three!"

I yank up the hatch, and Javier brings the broom down on top of the open hatch like he's chopping wood. The handle flies so close to my face, I can feel the air brush my cheek. Kyle throws a wild haymaker and hits nothing but empty space. Bezi and I just stand there—absolutely nothing happens. There's nothing under the hatch.

"Good job, y'all," I say. "Thank you for protecting us from nothing."

Javier rolls his eyes. "A raccoon could have jumped out of there and attacked us."

"Doubtful," Bezi says.

"No," I say. "We had to fight a raccoon once." Me and Javier exchange knowing glances. "It's not a game. They're aggressive."

"Oh, okay," Bezi says, eyes wide. "Remind me to never come up here ever again."

I peer down into the opening in the floor. The tunnel is cut into the ground below and snakes off in the direction of the lake.

"Okay," I say. "Okay, let's go."

I grab the top rung of the rickety wooden ladder and lower myself down. It's a full twenty degrees colder down here, and a chill runs up my back. I strain in the inky dark to see the other end of the tunnel, but it's no use. I drag my hand along the wall until I find the little pull cord dangling near the hatch opening. I yank down on it, and three light bulbs flicker to life along the length of the ceiling. Even with the thready light from the bulbs, the other end is completely cloaked in darkness.

Bezi climbs down, followed by Javier, who's still clutching the broom handle. On the last rung, his foot slips and he stumbles, crashing to the ground at my feet. As he lands flat on his back, the air punches out of his lungs and he groans.

"Damn," I say, offering him my hand. "You okay?"

He scrambles to his feet and pretends to be fine.

"I'm good," he says through clenched teeth.

Kyle descends the ladder and has to stoop to keep from hitting his head. He looks Javier over, and the corners of his mouth lift. "What the hell, Javi?"

Javier is leaning on the broom, holding his breath like it hurts to breathe.

"Y'all come down here every night?" Bezi asks.

I grip her hand. "Kyle does. I come down here for maintenance checks, but that's usually in the mornings."

Kyle cups his hands around his mouth. "Hello?" he yells.

"Shhhhhut uuuppp!" Javier whisper-screams. "If there's somebody down here, you just announced our presence."

Kyle's face twists into an angry scowl. "I think hearing you fall through the hatch and the whole-ass conversation we just had already did that."

Javier huffs as I lead us down the cramped tunnel in the direction of the boathouse. It's damp and musty and the ceiling is too low. My heartbeat creeps up. I don't like the confined space. I have to keep telling myself that the walls are probably not closing in on me, but I don't know if I actually believe it. Everything suddenly feels too close, too dark.

It takes about ninety seconds to walk from one end of the tunnel to the other, and when we get to the hatch under the boathouse, we don't find some shadowy figure lurking in the dark or a raccoon. Just the hatch, and the slide bolt that keeps it locked, open.

"Didn't we lock this?" Kyle asks.

I nod. "Yeah. We always do. And look."

Scattered on the ground are little pieces of glass and black plastic. I take out my phone, turn on the flashlight, and sweep the column of light up to the security camera. The entire housing has been crushed, and what's left of it is hanging from its exposed wiring.

"Oh shit," Javier says. "It's broken."

It's not just broken. It's completely destroyed.

Bezi grips my arm. "I think we should get out of here."

A chill runs up my back, and it's not from the dank air sweeping through the underground tunnel. I grab Bezi's hand and go to push the hatch open when Javier yanks me back. Kyle puts his hand on my shoulder and presses his finger to his lips. His eyes are like empty sockets in the dark.

My heart thuds in my chest, but as I quiet myself, I hear a noise. The creak of a board just over my head.

Someone is standing directly on top of the hatch.