Hailey had been everything to me. It had been the two of us, together, against the whole world. Now she was treating me like I was no better than any of the others.
But we were still stuck sleeping in the lodge together that night. Somehow, I thought, this had to get better. Maybe, before we went to sleep, I could explain what had happened, and Hailey would understand. Maybe things between us could go back to the way they’d been.
“This is so stupid,” Hailey whispered when we were setting up our sleeping bags. The lodge house was where our whole group of campers gathered to do crafts and stuff, but at nighttime it was just a big, open room lined with tables and benches. Jenn and Vicky slept on the floor near the back door, so Hailey and I had put our stuff as far from them as we could get, near the front. “If either of us has to go to the bathroom tonight, we should just pee in our sleeping bags. It’d be better than going out there again.”
I agreed. I’d already made sure to go to the bathroom before bed that night, and Hailey had too. Going before lights-out was fine—there were always tons of other girls going up and down the hill at the same time—but there was no way I was going up there again before dawn.
It turned out we couldn’t really talk after that, though. Not without Jenn and Vicky hearing. So I climbed silently into my sleeping bag, trying not to let my disappointment show.
It took me forever to fall asleep that night. In our cabin you could always hear people rustling in their sleeping bags, or talking in the other cabins near ours. Down in the lodge, though, it was totally quiet. There wasn’t a single sound except the crickets outside and Hailey breathing softly next to me. I couldn’t even hear Jenn and Vicky.
“Are you awake?” Hailey whispered all at once. Her lips were so close to my ear I nearly jumped.
“Yes,” I squeaked.
She laughed softly. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You didn’t scare me.”
She laughed again. “I just wanted to see if you’d like to hear the rest of the story. There’s only a little more.”
I rolled over to muffle my voice. The only way we could talk without Jenn and Vicky hearing us was to put our faces right next to each other, our lips practically touching. “You said the story was over.”
“I thought it was, but then I remembered there was something more. The other girls in the cabin don’t need to hear this part, though. Just you.”
I looked away. I refused to let her see me shiver. “Whatever.”
“What? You don’t want to know?”
I shrugged. She laughed again, then started to turn her back to me.
“Wait.” I gave up. Tears pricked at my eyes. “What is it?”
She laughed again and rolled her face back to mine. “Last night, when we were coming down that hill, for one second I really did think I saw something there in the trees. But then I realized it was just moonlight. You were so scared you almost made me get nervous too! But the thing is”—Hailey lowered her voice, her tone growing serious—“it made me realize something else, too. I’m sorry, Georgia. Because I could tell, from the way you were looking down, that you really did see something. Or you thought you did, at least. The Spirit, Georgia—the Spirit’s marked you. You’re destined to die of madness.”
I blinked, trying to keep back the tears, but they fell anyway.
Hailey shrugged in her sleeping bag. She didn’t look away, even though she must’ve seen me crying.
“I mean, it’s not like there’s anything you can do about it,” she whispered. “I just wanted to tell you so you knew what to expect. Sorry. Maybe you’ll live long enough to go home and see your family one last time after camp.”
She rolled back over. She didn’t seem especially sorry.
After that, there was no way I was going to sleep.
I didn’t believe Hailey, exactly. The whole story about the Spirit of Death . . . It all sounded like something out of a cheesy horror movie.
But what I’d heard—and seen—on the hill wasn’t cheesy at all.
Plus, even though I knew better . . . I couldn’t shake the idea that I’d been marked.
The whispering voice had kept telling me to go. To leave that hill. What if something bad really was going to happen to me there?
And if there hadn’t really been a voice—if I really had imagined everything, two nights in a row—did that mean I was going mad? With or without help from any spirits?
All I remember from the first part of that night was staring at the dark ceiling of the lodge house, freaking out and crying. I definitely don’t remember falling asleep. But I guess I did. Because the next thing I remember, I groggily opened my eyes to a pitch-black room and realized I couldn’t hear Hailey’s soft breathing anymore. She must’ve gone to the bathroom after all.
The lodge house was probably two stories high with the way the roof sloped, but there was only one light in the whole place, and it was out. Being in there in the middle of the night, with no one around, was like being in a huge, empty cave.
But there wasn’t no one around. Jenn and Vicky were in their sleeping bags down on the far end of the room.
I felt stupid for being afraid, but I wanted to see the counselors. Just so I’d know I wasn’t all alone. So I got out of my sleeping bag and made my way to the back of the room, feeling my way along by gripping the edges of the long tables. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the light, but the pure black emptiness in that room never faded.
“Jenn?” I whispered as I got closer. “Vicky?” But I was so quiet they probably couldn’t hear me.
Finally, I felt my toe hit the edge of a sleeping bag, and I relaxed. I bent down to shake the counselor’s shoulder.
But when I reached down into the darkness there was nothing under my hand but a flat, empty sleeping bag, and the hard floor below.
I reached over to the next sleeping bag. It was empty too.
“Vicky?” I spoke out loud this time. No one answered. “Jenn? Hailey?”
There was no sound at all. Even the crickets had shut up.
By then I was so scared I could barely think. I knew the back door was nearby, and all I wanted was to get outside, where at least there would be light from the moon. I felt around for the door and started to panic when all I felt was empty air. Finally, I reached the wall and ran my hands along the rough wood until at last I reached the door. I yanked on the handle and swung it wide open.
A rush of air hit my face, and I started to relax. But there was only more blackness. If the moon was out, it was hidden behind the thick trees.
I knew the cabins were nearby, but I couldn’t seem them. Just the rough wood of the wall behind me, the dim outlines of tree trunks, and the dirt path that wound away from the lodge house and up the hill toward the cabins. I was desperate to see someone, anyone, so I started creeping slowly down the path.
“Hey!” a voice shouted.
I jumped so hard I almost screamed. Then a hand clapped over my mouth, and I really did scream—but no sound came out.