My flashlight barely illuminated more than two feet in front of me, and the tiny sliver of moon wasn’t much help. The path was steep and rocky, and I mentally scolded myself for stupidly passing on Maya’s brighter flashlight. But it was too late now.
I followed the path up and around a steep bend, from which I could look down at the clearing filled with tents below. I could see light coming from Deborah and Miles’s tent. Bess must be telling them.
I shone the flashlight ahead and kept going.
Now I was almost hoping to hear another cry for help. It would tell me that Harper was still okay and clue me in to her location. But only the soft chorus of bugs and frogs greeted me as I wound along the path, and the occasional deep hoot of an owl.
Are they okay? Does that mean they’re not okay?
I wasn’t sure how long I’d been walking. Ten minutes? Fifteen? I’d rounded the hill, and the path was now taking a slow descent back toward the lake. My chest tightened as I looked at the black, glossy surface of the water, remembering my dream.
If whoever’s behind this is the same person who’s been sabotaging the camp . . . and they’re obsessed with what happened to Lila . . .
I had to stop myself from finishing the thought.
Harper is a good swimmer, I reminded myself instead.
I just hoped the same could be said for poor little Olivia.
There was only silence on the path behind me, and I wondered what had happened to Bess, Miles, and Deborah. Weren’t they coming? Surely they would come help, right?
Suddenly I reached a tiny clearing in the path, a small rocky outcrop that stood high over the lake. A small beach was below and to the left. I shone my flashlight all around, but couldn’t see where the path led from here. Down to the beach? Back into the woods? I’d gotten completely turned around and wasn’t sure where the tents were from here. Worse, I hadn’t heard anything from Harper or anyone else in at least ten minutes. My heart pounded. I hadn’t seen any branches leading off this path, but it was certainly possible I’d missed one or two in the dim light.
“Harper?” I called into the silence.
Then my flashlight died.
“SUCCOTASH!” I screamed.
Stupid, stupid batteries. My spares were in my dresser back at Juniper Cabin.
With my tiny beam of light gone, the darkness seemed to close in on me. Could I even find my way back to camp? The path was winding and rocky. It had been hard to follow even with the light.
I took in a shaky breath. And Harper—where is Harper?
That was when I heard a muffled cry.
It was coming from my left.
“Hello?” I called. Squinting, I could make out a tiny clearing in the woods to the left, with a bench in the middle. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I started searching the dark woods all around.
And nearly felt my heart stop when I made out four pairs of eyes reflecting the weak moonlight.
I heard a crunch and then a shriek of pain. Then Harper’s voice: “Nancy! I knew you would come!”
“Who’s there?” I called, stepping closer. Two other pairs of eyes were at Harper’s height or lower, but the third figure was big, as big as me. And it was standing in an odd position, with the kids clutched to its sides. Its hands seemed to be covering their mouths. . . .
“So you found us,” the larger figure finally spoke, and the sound startled me enough that I couldn’t place it at first. But then, suddenly, it clicked. I moved close enough to make out more detail, and sure enough—
A Yankees cap.
“Sam!” I cried. “What on earth are you doing!”
“She took us!” Sam must have been startled enough by my appearance that she let go of Olivia’s mouth, and the girl’s squeaky voice suddenly sounded from Sam’s side. “I got up to go to the bathroom and she grabbed me! And then we waited a few minutes, and she grabbed Queenie and Harper too, the same way!”
I moved forward hesitantly. “Why did you do that, Sam?” But the truth is, I was afraid of what she’d say. There was no good reason to steal three campers and force them into the woods above the lake, on the anniversary of Lila’s near-drowning. . . .
Sam moved forward, out of the cover of the trees, and suddenly reached up and pulled off her Yankees cap. In the thin moonlight, out spilled a pile of silky, silver-blond hair.
I gasped.
“Lila is my sister,” Sam said simply, her eyes shining with a feral glow. “And this is our revenge—on Camp Cedarbark and on Deborah!”
I sputtered, caught off guard. “But—but—Lila survived!” I managed finally. “I looked into it! She had some neurological damage, but she recovered, and she’s alive and well!”
Sam narrowed her eyes. “Sure, she’s alive and well,” she said. “But what about me?”
What? I glanced at Harper and the other girls, and they looked just as confused as I felt. “What about . . . you?”
“Lila’s my older sister,” Sam went on. “Have you ever thought about what your life would be like if such a huge accident happened to your sister? The effect it would have on your parents?”