He could hear the others scrambling up the trail behind him. Austin carried a flashlight, but its primary purpose was to guide his own passage, leaving the three of them to cuss and complain. The uneven path was little-used, with fallen branches snapping underfoot. He focused on the irregular terrain, working hard to maintain his balance. He wasn’t in good shape, so he was panting heavily and he’d broken a sweat.
“I used to go to camp up here when I was a Boy Scout. I don’t know what we’re doing, man. Place is a shit hole,” he said.
“Shut up, Fritz.” As usual, Austin’s voice was loaded with contempt.
“I’m serious. Ask me, this is stupid.”
“No one asked you.”
A moment later, Fritz stumbled and the gun went off. He’d squeezed the trigger involuntarily, but of course Austin was all over him, getting right in his face. “What’s the matter with you? Put the safety on! You could have killed one of us.”
“But—”
“Don’t say ‘but’ to me, you ding-dong.”
Fritz turned away, but Austin cuffed his shoulder.
“Hey. Don’t turn your back on me. I gave you an order and I expect acknowledgment. Put. The. Safety. On.”
“You said take the safety off. You took it off yourself when we were at the cabin.” Fritz knew his voice was shrill, but he was tired of being blamed for everything.
“Does this look like a cabin to you?” Austin yelled. “This is the fucking wilderness. We’re climbing a trail in the dead of night. You fall down with the safety off and you’ll shoot yourself, assuming you don’t shoot one of us first. Here. Gimme that.”
Austin yanked the Astra from his hand and made a big display of securing the trigger lock.
Fritz thought Austin’s action was far more dangerous, grabbing the weapon and pointing it every which way. At least Fritz had kept the barrel aimed at the dirt path so when the gun as good as fired itself, he wasn’t pointing it at anyone.
Sloan had yelped once when the gun went off, but aside from that she’d been quiet. Fritz figured she’d adopted the same attitude he had. Best to shut up and do as they were told or the situation would only get worse. If they played along, maybe the whole deal would blow over and they could all go home.
They reached the mesa, where nature had flattened the ground to form an enormous clearing. The cabins, as well as the old assembly and dining halls, had been abandoned years before and the county was in the process of bulldozing the dilapidated structures and using the detritus to fill the old swimming pool, which had been drained but was still considered an attractive nuisance. An excavator had been parked near a dumpster, where some of the shattered lumber had been piled. In the few buildings that remained standing, the windows were boarded over; porch planks rotted through. Even in its heyday, the structures were “rustic,” which is to say badly heated and poorly lighted. Fritz still shuddered when he remembered the wolf spiders: big, very black, and very fast. By night, it was cockroaches. After lights-out, when the boys were settled, one of the older campers would yell, “Death Trap!” and flip on the light. Insects of every size and description would dart off while everyone else banged at them with tennis shoes. Another way they amused themselves was to toss lighted cherry bombs in the septic tank.
Fritz and Bayard were both winded from the climb and Austin wasn’t in much better shape. Sloan was the only one who responded to physical exertion with exuberance. The four of them stood there, chests heaving, while Austin flashed his light across the wooden buildings. Everything looked dead except for the weeds and poisoned ivy, which seemed to be flourishing. It reminded Fritz of a movie set where a special machine had been used to spray fake cobwebs across the doorways. Austin crossed to the semicircle of dirt in front of the assembly hall. The makeshift amphitheater was used by campers when they gathered for nature talks. Crudely constructed benches, usually stacked in front of the dining hall, could be dragged into service. Fritz always stood at the rear so he could disappear once the program was underway.
A low mist drifted across the landscape, but the sky was crystal clear above them, stars everywhere. On the far side of the mountain range, a dull glow formed a fan shape against the night sky—light pollution compliments of the city of Santa Teresa. It was cold and Sloan, in her makeshift outfit, crossed her arms to keep warm. They were all waiting for their cues while Austin extended the silence for maximum dramatic effect.
Fritz tucked his hands in his armpits for warmth and flicked a look at Bayard. “I don’t like this.”
“Me, neither.”
Austin picked up on the complaint. “Bayard, you know what? I don’t care if you like it or not.”
“I’m with him. I don’t want any part of it. You let Troy beg off so why not us? This isn’t even our deal,” Bayard said.
Austin’s tone turned liquid, soft and seductive. “Are you refusing, pal?”
Bayard said, “Come on, Austin. Let’s dispense with the horseshit and get the hell out of here.”
Austin said, “I’m not done yet.”
“Yeah, well, we are.”
Austin ignored him. “Hey, Sloan. What do you think this is?”
He angled his flashlight beam to illuminate a trench three feet deep and six feet long. A shovel and a pickax rested on the loosely packed soil nearby. He shifted the flashlight beam to a spot under his chin, which threw his features into sinister shadows. It was something kids did at night to spook each other.
“Like you’re so scary,” she said.
“I asked you a question. What do you think that is?” He returned the beam to the trench.
Sloan put a hand to her cheek. “Gee, Austin. I don’t know. It looks like someone dug a hole in the ground.”
“Why don’t you lie down in it and see if it’s your size?”
“Not funny.”
“You don’t think so?” he asked. “I think it’s a riot.”
“You have a twisted sense of humor.”
“But a strong sense of fair play.”
Sloan laughed. “Is that how you see yourself? A guy with integrity? A man of honor? Because I know better and so do you.”
Austin said, “You know, I’m sorry now I dated you. I can’t remember what I was thinking.”
“Maybe you were thinking I was such a pig I’d be grateful for the attention.”
“Good one. That did cross my mind now you mention it,” he said.
“Let me tell you what crossed my mind. All this bad blood between us goes back to the infamous cheating incident when somebody wrote the note to Mr. Lucas. You claimed I was guilty when you knew damn well I wasn’t.”
“You were the one who got on her high horse when you heard Poppy and Troy intended to use the stolen test answers. You begged them not to do it. Next thing you know, Mr. Lucas gets a note spilling the beans.”
“You wrote that note.”
Austin laughed in disbelief. “I did? Where’d you come up with that screwball idea? I think you’ve been smoking too much dope.”
“How about this? There are five juniors up for the Albert Climping Memorial Award, including you, me, and Troy. Once Troy’s caught cheating, he’s out of the running. Then you point a finger at me, which puts me out of the running as well. The teachers are supposed to be unbiased, but it’s their vote and once they hear the rumor about me, my goose is cooked. You’re the one who benefits.”