Scary Horror Stories by Dr. NoSleep - Welcome to Camp Klehani

Episode Date: January 9, 2023

Check out Caleb Stephens' new book on Amazon here: https://amzn.to/3Qorhet Author: Caleb Stephens 🎧 Check out The SCP Experience podcast here: https://spoti.fi/3juM1og 🎉 Ad-free episodes + bonus episodes: https://www.patreon.com/drnosleep 🎥 YouTube: https://youtube.com/c/DrNoSleep ✅ Send all advertising inquiries to: [e-mail] DISCLAIMER: This episode contains explicit content. Parental guidance is advised for children under the age of 18. Listen at your own discretion. #drnosleep #scarystories #horrorstories #doctornosleep #truescarystories #horrorpodcast #horror Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

This story was written by a very talented horror writer named Caleb Stevens. He has a new book out on Amazon titled If Only a Heart and Other Tales of Terror. If you enjoy this story, be sure to check out his new book by clicking the Amazon link in the episode description. The year is 1986. I stare at the cheerfully carved letters tacked over the door and groan. Welcome to Camp Clahani. Fat Camp. Jesus.

I'd fought hard not to come, but I knew it was over the moment mom got her hands on that glossy flyer, with the kids smiling down from an exercise bike like it was a roller coaster. She'd been having whispered conversations about my weight with Dad for over a year now. I'd moved well beyond big-boned territory. Still, I thought the cost alone might save me from going. I mean, a thousand bucks is no joke, especially for a cheapo like dad. but he agreed immediately. Yay.

I slap at a mosquito with a stinger the size of a coffee straw and stroll into the lodge. A mounted deerhead takes stock of me from the far wall. It's dull, glass-bead eyes oozing disapproval. Name, mutters a girl from a rickety folding table. She glances up as I lug my suitcase over and my voice clogs. I've never seen someone so beautiful.

A fountain of frizzy, blonde curl spills over a purple scrunchy. Her eyes an electric, ocean green. She looks like Heather Locklear, only prettier, with lips that sparkle beneath a thin layer of bubblegum pink lip gloss. Name, she repeats. Um, Bobby. Bobby Bacon. I hate my name, by the way. She arches an eyebrow. Seriously? A snort rises behind me. Bacon at Fat Camp? You can't make this shit up. I turned toward a kid stuffed into a black metallica ride the lightning tank top.

Well, Kid isn't exactly the right word for him. He looks more like a manchild with a pair of honey-baked hams for arms and a massive gut bulging out over a ripped pair of jordanche jeans. A river of acne pox his face, and he has a weak chin that's hard to differentiate from his neck. In other words, he doesn't have a lot of room to be busting my balls. I'm just joshing you, man, he says, slapping my shoulder. The name's Cody.

The counselor rolls her eyes. Can we get a move on, guys? You're holding up the line. It's true. I didn't hear them come in, but kids are piling up behind us, sweating and puffing up a storm. A girl in purple Coke bottle glasses flips a 17 magazine like it's a fan. A ponytail, Jennifer Connolly makes eyes at me from the cover. behind her, a kid with orange hair crosses his arms and blows exasperated bubbles with his big leak chew. The counselor holds up a pink slip. Bacon, you're in Eagle Den. It's to cross the bridge at the far end of the lake. Don't fall in.

I snatched the paper from her and hustle away. Hey, Bacon, wait up, man. I turn and face Mr. Metallica, Cody. He stops to catch his breath and hold up a finger. I'm in. I'm in Eagleton, too. Looks like we're bunkmates. Where are you from? St. Paul, I mutter. You? Minneapolis. Hey, we're neighbors. You new here? I don't remember you from last year. Yeah, first time. I lost 40 pounds last summer, Cody says.

Mom was pretty impressed, but... He makes a ribbon of fat with his stomach and shakes it. I gained it right back. Fucking Big Macs, man. They get me every time. He eyes me. So, what's your story? I'm fat. End of story. My parents made me come. Don't be so glum, chum, Cody says.

It ain't half bad here. I mean, the food sucks and all, but the rest of it's okay. And did you see Cindy back there? Damn, she's hot, right? He elbows me in winks. Right? I can't argue that. She's the best part of this place.

Sometimes, she tans on the dock in this, little yellow bikini. God, I brought some binoculars this year. I want to get a better view. It's all sorts of wrong, but I already know I'll be joining him. The worst part is the mornings, he continues. Waking up at the ass crack of dawn for all the exercise, it sucks, especially the burpees. But they mostly leave us alone in the afternoon. There's a group of us that play Dungeons and Dragons if you want in. Now that gets me excited, but I try to play it cool. Girls like Cindy aren't exactly into the D&D type. Oh yeah? He nods. Yep. Come on. I'll show you our place. Our place is a shithole. It's cramped and drafty with cracks in the log walls, large enough to see through, and floors

covered in so much crime that they might as well be dirt. Four twin-sized beds with green vinyl mattresses run the length of the room. I pick one near the back and toss my suitcase on it. I'm surprised. I'd been expecting bunks, but it makes sense. Bunk beds at Fat Camp are probably a major liability. A few loose screws and you're toast. The screen door thwax open to a black kid in a blue denim jacket and a white kid with curls so thick, I wonder if they're home to a bird or two. The white kid drops his bag and issues Cody a mock salute. Hey, hey, it's the Code Esther. Yo, Eric, looks like we're bunking up again.

Cody stomps over and gives him a series of high-fives with lots of finger snaps and fist bumps. Clearly something they worked out last summer. Yep. The black kid, Eric, replies. He jerks a thumb my way. Who's the new guy? Yeah, right. Eric and Matt, meet Bobby.

I know it's coming before he says it. Bobby Bacon. I feel my cheeks flare up again. I want to punch him. No way. Seriously? Eric asks, his eyes bugging out. Your name's bacon? I exhale and struggle not to roll my eyes.

Yep. Dude, righteous. Bacon. I love it. Best name ever. I'm Eric. He strides over and shakes my hand. My palm comes away dripping with his sweat. He slaps the white kid on the back.

And this is Matt. Matt raises a hand and looks like he's about to say something when the door bangs open again. This time, it's a guy who looks just like Johnny Lawrence from the karate kid, but better looking, with biceps the size of grapefruits and spiked hair so peroxide bleached that it glows. A lanyard sways from his neck. Tanner Holden, Camp Director. Even his name rocks. I hate him instantly.

Bag check, maggots. Unzip them and rip them, he says. And I better not find him. a single goddamn candy bar anywhere. No care packages or sweet treats from your mommy's, or you're all doing laps tonight. He destroys Cody's back first. Cody shoots me a quick eye roll as his clothes spray out like fireworks. His toiletries clattering atop the pile. Tanner moves to Eric's suitcase next, and Cox's head at something, a playboy which he grabs and holds up. It's the Victoria Sellers issue. She leers from the cover with a red-gloved finger resting playfully on

on her lower lip. I gag. For some reason, she reminds me of my older sister, Sally, playing dress-up. Well, well, well, at least someone in here likes pussy, Tanner says, running a hand through his spiked hair. He glances at Eric, then throws a fake punch. Eric flinches and sits down hard on his bed. Tanner howls with laughter and shakes his head. Sight, I'm just fucking with you, man. Dinner's in 10. Be there or be square. He glares at the rest of us. All of you. With that, he's gone, barging back outside.

Eric shoots him the bird. That asshole is the camp director? What happened to Mr. Wilson? Don't know. Matt replies with a shrug. But I've never seen that guy before. Yeah, me neither. Cody adds.

Now that you mention it, I think the only counselor I recognized from last year is Cindy. Cindy. Eric says with a sigh. Such a babe. Think she's dating anyone? Probably that muscle-headed jerk, Matt replies. Chicks dig the assholes.

Forget him, Cody says, lurching for the door. Let's go get some grub. He glances at me. Bacon, be prepared. The food here stinks. The mess hall stinks, literally. It smells like wet cabbage mixed with dog food. I grab a tray with food compartment.

stamped in it and set it in front of a lady in a hairnet, ladling out spoonfuls of some formless brown mass. Her name tag reads Mrs. Yoshika. She regards me with all the enthusiasm of a Walmart door greeter as she plops a scoop on my tray. I stare at it with my stomach in a twist. Hey, you want second scoop? She asks with a wink. Huh? Okay. I'll give you one more. Before I can escape, She slaps another formless serving down. It looks like liquefied meatloaf. What is this stuff? I ask. There's nothing else.

No bread or salad. Nothing. I'm not about to eat this crap. She waves a gloved hand at me. Go, go! You better do what she says, man. Cody whispers, nudging me along. She'll cut you.

We find a table near the back that's already jammed with campers. I wedge myself in, next to a great. girl with mousy red hair and a face bleeding freckles. She gives me a glittery smile. Her braces flashing. Hi, I'm Lexi. What cabin are you in? Hey, Bobby, I'm... The lights go out before I can finish the sentence. A deep rumble fills the room, a bass guitar thumping out the notes to a rock song. The lights snap on again. Tanner stands at the front of the room wearing mirror-lens aviators, one hand clutching a gleaming microphone over his head. His His fist pumping with the beat.

Counselors fan away on either side of him. The girls clad in a rainbow of neon spandex leggings. Purple, pink, baby blue. I stare. Slack-jawed. They look like they belong in a copper-tone commercial. Holy shit, Cody whispers to my right. So many babes.

The music cuts off. Welcome campers. Tanner blares into the microphone. This year's going to be a little different. He grabs a tray from a boy tucking into his pile of slop with gusto and tosses it across the room like a frisbee. Who actually wants to eat this crap? Not me. This food sucks.

A boy shouts from somewhere behind me. Heads not in agreement. What are you waiting for then? Trash this shit. Cody stands first, grabs his tray, and slumps over to the garbage can. He shrugs and tosses it in. More kids follow. We move. Trey scraping off the tables, kids cheering and shouting in a mad race to the garbage cans.

Mrs. Yoshika scuttles from behind the serving line, waving her hands and shaking her head furiously. A beefy counselor loops an arm around her shoulder and escorts her to the kitchen. Now, that's what I'm talking about. Tanner cries. The music clicks on. More counselors burst through the kitchen doors, carrying trays layered in hamburgers and hot dogs and bright green bags of lays potato chips. My stomach growls. It's all yours, Tanner says.

As much as you can handle. Eat up. Kids cheer and whoop, looking at each other with stunned expressions that mirror the one twisting over my face. High fives are in no short supply. Eric tucks into a hamburger across from me, his fist full of fries. Mr. Betchin!

He sputters, spraying food my way. He eyes my hot dog. You gonna eat that? I dig in before he can grab it. I gorge myself. The meat is a little tough, but it's ten times better than the garbage Mrs. Yoshika tried to serve us.

I mop up the burger grease with the fries and have seconds. The counselors keep bringing more out. The girls winking as they pile our plates high. Dessert follows in the form of ice cream sundays and chocolate cake, layered in cream cheese frosting. Trays of cookies are delivered to each table. Moules, grow muddy with crumbs all around me. I stop mid-bite. It doesn't make sense. The Camp

Clahani flyer advertised portion control and a well-balanced diet. This is anything but well-balanced. This is madness, but I'm not about to complain. Tanner saunters over and crouches down next to Eric. He has his aviators off, gray eyes. Strange. For some reason I'd expected blue. They chat for a bit, Tanner ragging Eric good-naturedly about his playboy again, while jerking his hand up and down before thumbing his nose. You party, man? Eric goes blank-faced, a fat kid invited to the weekend kegger by the star quarterback. I, uh, yeah, yeah, for sure, dude, totally. Tanner leans close and says something in a hushed tone.

Movement ripples across his cheek. It looks like an earthworm burrowing through dirt. I blink and rubbed my eyes. When I look back, he's dancing his way to another table. Eric catches my gaze and pops an eyebrow. Holy shit. Did you see that, bro? Yeah. What did he say? I, um, I'm not supposed to tell.

Come on, man, I prod. Spill it. Well, he leans across the table and cups a hand to his mouth in a barely concealed whisper. Tanner wants me to stay after all this, you know? He glances from side to side like someone is listening. No one is. He said I might score with one of these counselor chicks if I play it cool. He told me the brunette over there thinks I'm cute.

Can you believe that? I can't. I can barely speak. I'm so jealous. Dinner sputters out slowly from there. Kids filter outside in packs. Cody, Matt, and I follow. Eric has already planted at Tanner's table with a few other lucky campers.

Lexi included. She notices me looking and flutters a wave as we tumble into the cool evening air. Dude, was that not insane? Cody says. Tell me that's not the craziest shit you've ever seen. I was wrong about Tanner. The guy rocks. Matt gives a hard nod. His curls bouncing. Totally. So much better than Mr. Wilson's crew. Yeah, that guy never stopped with his stupid slogans.

Cody throws up some air quotes. Give your body the proper nutrients and it will do the rest. Eat well to live well. Progress, not perfection. Blah, blah, blah. Suck my dick. He says it in a high-pitched tone. I take as a poor imitation of Mr. Wilson.

Apparently, it's hilarious because they both double over with laughter. When Cody comes up for air, it's with an... Oh, shit. What? I ask. We forgot Eric. Tanner's invitation rings hot in my head. You like to party?

I wave Cody off. Tanner invited him to hang out and do some coke. I'm pretty sure I remember the nose-tap thing from an episode of Miami Vice. I'm also pretty sure Mom wouldn't be too thrilled to know about the extracurriculars going on here at Camp Klahani. Matt coxs a hip to the side and crosses his arms. What? No freaking way, Eric? What'd he do that was so special?

No clue. I heard Tanner invite him, though. I think the playboy got him in. No fair, Matt whines. My dad has a stack of penhouses in the closet. If I'd known, I would have swiped a few. Cody claps him on the back and burps, then spouts off a terrible British accent. Alas, my good man, let Sir Eric haveeth his time in the sun, for hours soon shall be nigh. Huh? Matt asks. I said, forget him. We got us some D&D to play.

The prospect cheers me up significantly. We go back to the cabin and play until 2 a.m. I don't think about Eric once. We lurch from the cabin the next morning around 10. Our eyes grainy with sleep. A piss yellow sun hangs overhead, centered in a cloudless sky. I don't get it, Cody mutters. No stupid bugle?

They always have us up by seven at the latest for the morning stretch. I'm starved. Matt yawns. Me too. They have all kinds of food out in the mess hall. It's a girl's voice, a hefty brunette in a pink and purple bathing suit with a towel clutched in her hand. Everyone's heading up to the lake if you guys want to come after you eat. What about fitness?

Matt asks, digging something from his ear. Cancelled. Rad. His face buckles. Wait. Why? Don't know, but I like it. See ya.

She waves and trots off, bouncing on the balls of her feet. I glanced back into the cabin at Eric's bed. His bag still tipped on its side, vomiting a pile of clothes over the bare mattress. A lot of denim, his walkman. Did anyone see Eric come back last night? I ask. Cody shakes his head. He's probably already eating, Matt replies slapping his stomach.

I say we go join him. Breakfast is another ridiculous spring. bread of donuts, breakfast burritos, eggs, bacon, toast, and pancakes, which we devour before heading back to the lake. We spend the day staring at Cindy and the other goddess counselors. They're sprawled out in a field of golden skin on the dock, some with her tops unfastened. They missed each other with water bottles. They lotion each other's backs. I feel like I'm watching softcore porn. Sometime around mid-afternoon, I think of Eric again. Cody has his shirt off, his man boobs glistening pink with an early sunburn.

Matt's perched on a rock with his jeans rolled up over a pair of chalk white thighs. Guys, I say, don't you think we should do something about Eric? Shouldn't he be back by now? Cody shrugs. He's probably at the cabin sleeping it off. Sex takes a lot of work. Like you would know, Matt says. Dude, I've totally had sex.

With who? Matt asks. Your hand? I laugh. Cody glares at me. You think he's actually scored? Matt asks. Cody picks it something in his teeth. Probably. I snap my fingers at them.

Hey, guys, forget about all that shit for a minute. What's going on here? Isn't this all a little weird? All this food? Everyone just doing whatever they want all day? Cody blows a raspberry with his lips. Dude, relax. It's freaking awesome is what it is. Matt, tell Bacon to stop getting his panties in a bunch. Matt slaps out a mosquito and holds it up, squishing it between his thumb and forefinger.

Relax, bacon. It's not every day you get to... My dudes! I jerk back toward Tanner and two other counselors hovering over us with their shirts off. Their abs rippling like they've just stepped off a Gold's gym billboard. Who here knows how to party? Tanner asks before I can mention Eric. Matt's hand shoots up. Me! Me! I know how to party!

Tanner smirks. Hmm, I don't know, man. He looks at the other guys. You think this kid can party. He doesn't look like he knows how to party. The counselor closest to him massages his lips. Yeah, I don't know. He glances at the other counselor, a guy with olive skin and a square jaw.

What do you think, Dave? I say we give the kid a kid a... shot. Dave replies. What can it hurt? A tremor runs through his face as he says it. More rippling worms. It happens so fast. I wonder if I've imagined it. Tanner shoots Matt a Polaroid grin and claps his hands together. Okay kid, you're in. I'll stop by your cabin after dinner. You better bring your A-game though. You do not want to disappoint the babes, especially not Cindy. Matt nods so hard, I think his head will pop off. Cody's voice squeaks to life as they turn to leave. Wait, guys. Guys, me too. I know how to party. Tanner glances back without stopping.

Sorry, bro, not tonight. You'll get your chance, though, if you play your cards right. There's something about the way he says it that I don't like. It sounds more like a threat than a promise. Matt's eyebrows pop so high, I'm worried they'll leap off his face. Oh my God. Oh my God. I need to shower. I need... Oh shit. You guys have any condoms? I think I might need a condom. I totally forgot to bring one. You suck, man. Cody says with a groan, I don't hear a word. I'm too busy watching Tanner and his bros muscled their way down the shoreline. One thought picks at me the rest of the day and through dinner. This is a little bit. is all too easy.

Tanner swings by around 8 o'clock, wearing a black leather bomber jacket and his mirrored aviators. Tonight, he looks more like Iceman from Top Gunn than Johnny Lawrence. He takes a swig from the red solo cup in his hand and clicks a piece of ice against his teeth. When he raises his glasses, I wither beneath his gravel-colored gaze. Hey, Pudge! Where's the kid?

You ready? Um, yeah. He's... Matt bursts from the bathroom in a cloud of Cologne. I'm right here. Just, uh, you know, getting my game face on. He's in full-on party mode in a pair of frayed, acid-washed jeans, and a purple track suit top, stamped in yellow and pink triangles.

A black sweat band strangles his forehead, his hair curling over it like it's been freshly permed. He spreads his arms wide and wiggles his fingers. What do you think? This work? Sure, kid, whatever. Tanner says, indifferent. The babes will love it.

Now let's go. Cody blows an annoyed breath from his bed and rolls onto his side. Matt eases past me with a dopey smile and a fist bump, mouthing a quick, oh my God. They're halfway out the door before I stop them. Hey, Tanner. He groans to a stop. You're killing me, Pudge.

What? Have you seen Eric? Who? The kid you took to... I flash a set of air quotes. party last night. He never came back. Oh, that kid. Right. He partied too hard. His parents came by and took him home. Guess he couldn't handle it.

Makes a gun with his hand and cocks his thumb. Fires it at me. Now, be a good little camper and go to bed. He flings an arm around Matt, and they march off. His voice echoing through my skull. His parents came by? No way. Eric told me they live seven hours away in some bum-fuck town. in Iowa. The itch hits again. The feeling that this place has a bunch of... Bullshit! A jerk back. Cody stands a foot away, tugging on his jacket and reeking of hair gel. I'm crashing the party, man. No way is Matt cooler than us, bacon. No eff than way, bro. He doesn't even work out. He surges by me and stops, glancing back. His acne scars glow beneath the

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We catch up with them before they hit the forest. The moon hangs above us in full spotlight white, not a cloud in the sky. Tanner still has his arm wrapped around Matt, but not a lot of the forest. in a fun, hey, let's get you wasted kind of way. No, this is more of a you try to run and I'll snap your neck grip. Not that Matt seems to mind. He bops right along next to Tanner, oblivious, probably thinking about which girl he's about to bang. Except there aren't any girls,

only a dark wall of pine trees. We hustle after them up a rocky trail, winding through the Ponderosa. Trees hem us in on both sides like giant slivers of bone. The branches filtering out the stars. We move as quietly as two fat kids can, which is not at all. But we're silent enough that Tanner only stops once, glancing back over his shoulder when Cody kicks a stone loose. We duck behind a jagged clump of granite before he's able to spot us. And I want to tell Cody we should go back,

that what we're doing is crazy. I can tell he wants to say the same, but neither of us wants to bitch out first. Teenage Boycode. My legs burn as we wind deeper into the woods. My quads trembling. I feel like I'm on a stairmaster. We hear the crackle of the bonfire before we see it.

Pine bows flickering with a dusty orange light that makes me think of every bee horror movie I've ever seen. The dumb kids walking straight toward the monster. I jerk Cody back behind some underbrush when we hit the ridge line. What the hell, man? He hisses, nearly tripping. I point. Look.

A fire the size of a small shed crackles down slope in a low bowl of earth. Campers and counselors are circled around the blaze. The female counselors wearing lace white dresses with flower crowns planted atop their heads. It's not exactly party gear, but I have to admit they look pretty damn hot. Everyone has beers in hand, and a couple of campers are passing a joint. One of them, a Chinese kid I recognize from the first day in the cafeteria, takes a hit and cough so hard that I think he'll spit out a lung. Pht, what a rookie, Cody whispers.

Matt and Tanner had toward a cooler and snag a couple of beers. Tanner cracks his and takes the entire thing down in one long pull. His burp rings through the trees like a grizzly's roar. Screw this, Cody says. I'm going to join them. He starts forward and I jerk him back. Man, bacon, if you don't let go of me right now, shut up. I hiss, thrusting a finger.

Look. He follows my gaze and his nose creases. What the hell? The female counselors have formed a circle around the campers. Tanner eases behind one of them, a blonde with watermelon boobs, and unzips her dress. Normally, it would be the stuff of wet dreams. But the way this girl is moving, her limbs snapping back and forth, her jaw clicking open and shut so hard that her breasts are bouncing, is disturbing. The other male counselors do the same, each of them sliding behind a female counselor to remove her dress.

The campers stare at them with their faces glazed in a collection of what the fuck looks. Tanner tips his chin toward the moon and howls. The sound is unlike anything I've ever heard, a piercing inhuman shriek. Then, he does something that sends a slug of acid racing up my throat. He unzips his girl's skin. He starts beneath her hairline at the nape of her neck and pulls, and pulls, and pulls, down to her ankles. What slides out is straight from hell. A glistening black tangle of arms and legs with two-inch teeth shredded to the gums,

planted beneath four pearl-white, luminescent eyes. Serrated shards of bone extend from its elbows and knees, and it isn't alone. All of the counselors are ripping off their clothes, their skins, An army of black sludge bodies wriggle free, creatures with slick flesh studded in sharp splinters of bone. Holy fuck! Cody whispers. The cafeteria kid is the first to scream. I'm pretty sure he pisses his pants as they swarm him. It's like watching a bleeding cow tossed into a boiling mass of piranha.

They go after his face first, their teeth shredding him, slicing. The other campers scatter. Matt makes it to the tree line before one of the things hooks his ankle and drags him back. He screams like a girl as it tears into his calf. Cody gags. Something hot splashes off his shoes. What are you two doing up here? My heart explodes.

I jerk around to glimpse a dark figure and nearly black out before I recognize the voice. Cindy. I half expected her to rip off her skin like the others before Cody's words ring through my head. She's the only one I recognized from last year. What's all the noise? Cody climbs a hand over her mouth.

Shh! Sh! Her eyes bulge as she claws at his wrist. We gotta go! They're eating them! Cody hisses. Cindy stiffens, and Cody slowly lifts his hand. She smiles. I know. Black talons explode from the tips of her fingers. She sinks them into Cody's forearm and goes for his neck with her teeth.

She comes away with a bloody chunk of his throat in her mouth. I run. Branches rip at my face and arms. Rocks carve into my knees. Piles of dead feet. falls slash at my shins. Adrenaline spurts through my veins and turns my legs to rubber. I stumble and fight through the forest.

Cindy tears through the brush after me. And shrieks. The other counselors answer her call with their own screams. Quick, frantic bursts like gunshots. Metal on metal. I know what that means. They're hunting. I angle from the path and leap over a rotten leg.

My landing awkward and heavy. A hot bolt of pain rips through my ankle. The ground steepens, and everything picks up speed. I'm not running, really. I'm being jerked downhill by gravity. My feet somehow keeping up, but only barely. I don't turn.

I don't look back. I know what I'll see. Her joints click behind me. Her limbs, spearing the earth like a set of steel pistons, drawing closer. I feel her hot, rancid breath on my neck, her teeth grazing my skin. I fall.

Rolling and bashing off rocks, the forest pops in and out in a series of flashes, black, white, black, white, black. My head cracks against a boulder and my vision supernovas for a second before I lurch into dead air. I hit water, smack. My breath explodes,

hanging above me in a thousand silver bubbles. I flop against the current. The river. I'm in the river. The thought floats up as if from a dream. Swim, you dumbass. I do, flapping and stroking. My clothes so waterlogged that they drag me under. I slam into a pile of rocks and choke for air, gullowing water instead.

My vision blackens and curls at the edges. Then there's air in my throat, beautiful air, and the rapids are slowing, dragging me toward the riverbank. When my fingers hit mud, I almost cry out. I pull myself onto the bank and cough a lungful of river from my lungs. Upstream, shrieks carved through the trees. I see the branches swaying, black forms leave. leaving through the woods. Broken and bleeding, I scramble beneath a hollow shelf of earth and wedge myself behind a dense

curtain of roots. My breath comes fast, my ankle throbbing in time with my racing heart. I'm pretty sure I've broken a few ribs, and my forehead burns like crazy, blood leaching dark and sticky into my eyes. I barely have time to register its heat before I hear them. They're horrifyingly fast. Their voices, if you can call them that, gutter and burglary. hop around me. Think of a train scraping over the tracks with the heat brake screeching,

only worse. So much worse. One of them stalks closer. It's teeth chattering, click, click, click. It snorts in a lurching, wet breath before blowing it out in a hiss. Silence. Air slides slow into a wet pair of nostrils as talons crawl over the bank and set loose a shivering cloud of dust. No, no, no, no, no. I slap a hand to my mouth and bite the web of flesh between my forefinger and thumb until I taste copper. An oil black head appears, a sliver of milk pale eyes. A shrill cry rises in the distance. The thing above me jerked skyward and answers, and then it's gone. My bladder empties. I lay there the entire night and listen to them shriek. Spiders flurry over my skin, insects burrow into my hair. I let them. I don't move a fucking muscle.

At some point, I don't know whether for an injury, exhaustion, or both, I succumbed to sleep. When I wake up, I'm covered in dew. The sun is sparkling through the trees in a pink blush. Matt's scream rips through my head, and I'm back listening for the creatures. My entire body's stiff, my heart in a full-on thunder. I think of Cody's face, the panic flooding his eyes a second before Cindy smiled and tore out his throat. I shudder and listen. Listen and shudder

For hours Somewhere around mid-morning I pull myself from my hiding place And limp down river until I hit the highway Where I collapse on the shoulder beneath an ancient white pine Half an hour passes before anyone stops I'm busy rubbing my freezing fingers back to life When I spot the semi rumbling around the corner

A blue Peter Belt with an extended cab It screeches to a halt and the door kicks open to a face that's all beard and sunglasses beneath a John Deere ball cap pulled low. Need a lift, kid. I stare at him and consider running. He looks normal enough, but then again, so did Tanner and Cindy. It doesn't matter. Even if I wanted to, I wouldn't make it another step.

I nod and climb aboard. My arms are so bruised. It hurts to buckle my seatbelt. Jesus, what happened to you, son? He asks through a mouthful of chew. The police. Get me to the police. Looks more like I should take you to a hospital.

I fight back tears. No, the cops. I need the cops. There were these things in the forest. Please, the police. Whatever you need, boss. There's a station in Spring Junction. It's just up the road.

I'll drop you there. He pops the air brakes and we're off. We ride in silence. A picture of a picture of. a woman, tan as a leather bag, sways from the rearview mirror. An army of bobble heads clutter the dash and nod me to sleep. When my eyes drift open again, it's to a pounding headache, and the back of my neck stinging like someone's drenched it in battery acid. I finger it with a hiss and remember Cindy's teeth snapping as I fell into the river. Jesus, she fucking bit me.

You okay, kid? The man asks, side-eyeing me through his. his glasses. I think so. Where are we? Getting close now. Stations right up the road. The gravel road, I realize as a set of cheerfully stenciled letters comes into view. Welcome to Camp Clahoney.

I leap for the door. The handle doesn't budge. The man laughs and raises his sunglasses. His eyes shine the same wet concrete color as Tanner's. Because it is Tanner, I realize, too late. Tanner wearing a new suit. of flesh and staring at me like I'm the Sunday morning eggs and bacon breakfast special. Don't worry, budge, he says. We ain't going to eat you the way we did the others. Isn't that right,

Cindy? I sense her rising behind me. I feel a splash of her hot, musty breath spill past my cheeks. A cold metal finger slides across the back of my neck where she bit me. No, she says, No. Tanner slaps a hand on my knee and squeezes. His scoed. His head. his teeth dripping with tobacco juice. You see, kid, you're safe. You wouldn't taste any good. His smile broadens, and he glances back to the road. Not now that you're one of us.