33 - The Horror at Camp Jellyjam (8 page)

He thought about it. “Okay. Agreed,” he said finally. Then he trotted off to
find his friends.

Four kids marched in the Winners Walk. As I watched from the sidelines, I
thought about the kids I knew who had marched before.

Dierdre. Rose. Jeff…

Had they all gone home? Were they picked up by their parents? Were they back
home now safe and sound?

Maybe I’m frightening myself for no reason, I thought.

Everyone else in camp seems to be having a great time. Why am I the only
worrier?

And then I remembered that I
wasn’t
the only worrier.

Alicia’s tear-stained face floated into my mind.

What had Alicia seen that had frightened her so much? Why was she desperately
trying to warn us to get away?

I’ll probably never find out, I told myself.

When the Winners Walk ceremony ended, I didn’t feel like going back to the
dorm. I knew I couldn’t get to sleep. Too many thoughts troubled my mind.

As the other kids made their way to their rooms, I ducked into the deep
shadows. Then I sneaked along the path to the sloping hill that led up to the main lodge.

Hiding behind a wide evergreen shrub, I dropped down onto the grass. It was a
cool, cloudy night. The air felt heavy and damp.

I raised my eyes to the sky. Clouds covered the stars and the moon. Far in
the distance, I could see tiny red lights moving slowly against the blackness.
An airplane. I wondered where it was headed.

Crickets began to chirp. The wind rustled my hair.

I gazed up at the starless sky. Trying to relax. Trying to calm myself down.

After a few minutes, I heard voices. Footsteps.

I pulled myself up to my knees and ducked low behind the shrub.

The voices grew louder. A girl laughed.

Carefully, I peered out from between the piney branches. I saw two
counselors, walking rapidly along the path that led up the hill.

Behind them, I spotted another group of counselors making their way quickly
up the hill. They all seemed to be in a hurry.

I lowered myself behind the shrub and hid in the darkness.

They’re heading to the lodge, I decided. Must be some kind of counselors’
meeting.

Their white shorts and T-shirts were easy to see, even on such a dark night. Keeping out of sight, I watched them make
their way up the path.

But to my surprise, they didn’t go to the lodge. Several yards from the lodge
entrance, they turned off the path and ducked into the woods.

Where were they going?

I saw two more groups of counselors make their way into the trees. There must
be a hundred counselors at this camp, I realized. And they’re all going into the
woods tonight.

I waited until I thought all of the counselors had passed by. Then I slowly
pulled myself to my feet.

I stared into the woods. But I could see only darkness. Shadows upon shadows.

I ducked back down when I heard two more voices.

Peering through the evergreen branches, I spied Holly and Buddy. They were
taking long strides, walking side by side.

I waited till they passed by. Then I jumped up.

Creeping in the deep shadows, I followed them into the woods.

I didn’t stop to worry about getting caught. I had to know where the
counselors were all going.

Buddy and Holly moved quickly through the woods, pushing tall weeds out of
their way, stepping over fallen tree limbs.

To my surprise, a low, white structure came into view. It appeared to glow dully in the dim light.

The building was built low to the ground. The top was curved.

I squinted at it through the trees. It looks like an igloo, I thought.

What is this strange building? I wondered. Why is it hidden away in the
trees?

A dark opening had been cut into the side. Holly ducked into the low
entrance. Buddy followed her in.

I waited nearly a minute. Then I stepped up to the opening.

My heart pounded. Such a strange, little building. Round and smooth as ice.

I hesitated. I peered into the entrance, but couldn’t see anything inside. I
didn’t hear any voices.

What should I do? I asked myself.

Should I go in?

Yes.

I took a deep breath and lowered myself into the opening.

Three steep steps led down to a dim entryway. A single red light down near
the floor gave off the only light.

I stepped into the dark red glow, then stopped and listened.

I could hear voices speaking softly in the next room.

Trailing my hand along the bare, concrete wall, I moved slowly toward the
voices. An open doorway came up on my right.

I stopped outside it. Then I slowly, carefully peered in.

I stared into a large, square room. Four torches hanging at the front of the
room sent out flickering orange light.

The counselors sat on long wooden benches, facing a low stage. A purple
banner hung over the stage. It proclaimed: ONLY THE BEST.

It’s a little theater, I realized. Some kind of meeting hall.

But why is it hidden away in the woods? And why are the counselors all
meeting here tonight?

I didn’t have to wait long for my answer.

Buddy stepped on to the small stage. He walked quickly into the flickering
orange torchlight. Then he turned to face the audience of counselors.

I crept into the doorway. There were no torches in the back of the hall. It
was pitch-black back there.

Walking on tiptoe, I edged my way along the back wall.

The door to a closet of some kind stood open. I ducked into it.

Buddy raised both hands. The counselors instantly stopped talking. They all
sat up straight and stared forward at him.

“Time to refresh ourselves,” Buddy called out. His voice echoed off the
concrete walls.

The counselors sat stiffly. No one moved. No one made a sound.

Buddy pulled a gold coin from his pocket. A King Coin, I figured. It dangled
on a long gold chain.

“Time to refresh our minds,” Buddy said. “Time to refresh our mission.”

He raised the gold coin high. It glowed in the torchlight as he began to
swing it. Back and forth. Slowly.

“Clear your minds,” he instructed them, speaking softly now. “Clear your minds, as I have cleared mine.”

The gleaming gold coin swung slowly back and forth. Back and forth.

“Clear… clear… clear your minds,” Buddy chanted.

He is
hypnotizing
them! I realized.

Buddy is hypnotizing all the counselors. And he’s been hypnotized, too!

I took a step forward. I couldn’t
believe
what I was seeing and
hearing!

“Clear your minds to serve the master!” Buddy declared. “For that is why we
are here. To serve the master in all his glory!”

“To serve the master!” the counselors all chanted back together.

Who is the master?
I asked myself.

What are they talking about?

Buddy continued chanting out slogans to the crowd of counselors. His eyes
were wide. He never blinked.

“We do not think!” he shouted. “We do not feel! We give ourselves up to serve
the master!”

And suddenly I had an answer to some of my questions.

Now I knew why Buddy hadn’t cried out, hadn’t collapsed to the ground when I
swung the bat into his chest.

He had hypnotized away all feeling.

He was in some kind of trance. He couldn’t feel the bat. He couldn’t feel
anything.

“Only The Best!” Buddy cried, raising both fists into the air.

“Only The Best!” the counselors all repeated. Their unblinking faces appeared
strange, frozen in the flickering orange light.

“Only The Best! Only The Best!”

They all chanted the slogan over and over. Their voices echoed loudly off the
walls. Only their mouths moved. Like puppets.

“Only The Best can serve the master!” Buddy shouted.

“Only The Best!” the counselors chanted one more time.

Buddy had been swinging the gold coin over his head during the entire
performance. Now he lowered it back into the pocket of his shorts.

The room grew silent.

A heavy silence. An eerie silence.

And then I sneezed.

I cupped my hand over my mouth.

Too late.

I sneezed again.

Buddy’s mouth opened wide in surprise. He jabbed a finger in the air,
pointing at me.

Several counselors jumped to their feet and spun around.

I turned to the door. Could I escape through it before one of them caught me?

No.

No way I could get over there.

My legs were shaking. But I forced myself to move. I backed against the wall.

Why had I stepped so far into the room? Why hadn’t I stayed in the safety of
the doorway?

“Who’s there?” I heard Buddy call. “It’s so dark. Who
is
it?”

Good! I thought. He didn’t know it was me.

But in seconds, they’d grab me and drag me into the light.

I took another step back. Another.

Darkness fell over me.

I spun around. “Ohh!” I cried out when I saw that I had nearly toppled down a
steep stairway.

It wasn’t a closet after all.

Black stone steps curved sharply down. Where did they lead?

I couldn’t guess. But I had no choice. The steps were my only chance of
escape.

I leaned against the wall and plunged down the stairs. My shoes slid on the
smooth stones.

I nearly tripped and went sailing head first. But I grabbed the wall and
steadied myself as I started to fall.

The stairs curved down. Down.

The air grew hot and sour. I held my breath. The air smelled like sour milk.

A strange, deep moan rumbled up from down below.

I stopped to catch my breath.

Listened hard.

The low moan rolled up the stairway again. A whiff of sour air invaded my
nostrils.

I turned back. Was I being followed? Had the counselors seen me escape
through the open door?

No. It had been too dark. I didn’t hear anyone on the stairs. They weren’t
following me.

What smelled so bad down below?

I wanted to stop right there. I didn’t want to climb down any farther.

But what choice did I have? I knew they’d be searching for me upstairs.

Leaning a hand against the stone wall, I made my way down.

The stairway led into a long, narrow tunnel. I could see pale light at the
end of it. Another deep moan rumbled in the distance. The floor shook.

I took a long breath and passed quickly through the tunnel. The air grew hot
and damp. My shoes splashed through puddles on the tunnel floor.

Where does this lead? I wondered. Will it take me back outside?

As I neared the end of the tunnel, a whiff of sour air made me choke. I
coughed and struggled to stop my stomach from heaving.

What a disgusting smell!

Like decayed meat and rotten eggs. Like garbage left out in the sun for days
and days.

I pressed both hands over my mouth. The odor was so strong, I could
taste
it!

I gagged. Once. Twice.

Don’t think about the smell! I ordered myself. Think about something else.
Think about fresh flowers. Think about sweet-smelling perfume.

Somehow, I calmed my stomach.

Then, pinching two fingers over my nose to keep the odor out, I stumbled to the end of the tunnel.

I stopped as the tunnel gave way to a huge, brightly lit chamber.

I stopped and stared—at the ugliest, most frightening thing I had ever seen
in my life!

Squinting into the bright light, I saw dozens of kids with mops, and buckets,
and water hoses.

At first, I thought they were cleaning off a giant, purple balloon. Bigger
than any balloon in the Thanksgiving Day parade!

But as the water sprayed over it and the mops soaped its sides, the balloon
let out a loud groan.

And I realized I wasn’t staring at a balloon. It was a creature. And the
creature was alive. I was staring at a monster.

I was staring at King Jellyjam.

Not a cute little mascot. But a fat, gross, purple mound of slime, nearly as
big as a house. Wearing a gold crown.

Two enormous, watery yellow eyes rolled around in his head. He smacked his
fat purple lips and groaned again. Hunks of thick, white goo dripped from his
huge, hairy nostrils.

The disgusting odor rolled off his body. Even holding my nose couldn’t keep
out the sour stench.

He smelled like dead fish, rotting garbage, sour milk, and burning rubber—all at once!

The gold crown bounced on top of his slimy, wet head. His purple stomach
heaved, as if an ocean wave was breaking inside him. And he let out a putrid
burp that shook the walls.

The kids—dozens of them—worked frantically. They circled the ugly
monster. They hosed him down. Scrubbed his body with mops and sponges and
brushes.

And as they worked, little round objects rained down on them.
Click.
Click. Click.
The little round things clattered to the floor.

Snails!

Snails popping out through King Jellyjam’s skin.

I started to gag again when I realized the hideous creature was
sweating
snails
!

I staggered back into the tunnel, pressing my hands over my mouth.

How could those kids stand the horrible, sour stench?

Why were they washing him? Why were they working so hard?

I gasped when I recognized some of the kids.

Alicia!

She held a hose with both hands and sprayed King Jellyjam’s bulging, heaving
stomach. Her red hair was soaked and matted to her forehead. She cried as she
worked, bawling loudly.

I saw Jeff. Rubbing a mop up and down on the monster’s side.

I opened my mouth to call to Alicia and Jeff. But my breath caught in my
throat, and no sound came out.