🏕️👻💀😟
But tonight, for some reason, she startled awake. Her eyes popped open, and she tried to figure out what had roused her. She was on her side, sheet pulled up over her shoulder, just he right temperature. There were no sounds but the leaves rustling outside and eleven people softly breathing. Nothing moved-
Except, yes, something moved.
The screen door should've been latched, but it wasn't. It was open just a few inches, swaying gently. It was dark by the door, the moon hidden behind the clouds, and it looked as if something had spilled on the floorboards—a puddle of water, maybe. As Parker watched, unmoving, trying not to breathe, she heard a faint dripping noise.
Someone was standing there in the dark, just standing there in their Camo Care uniform. And something wet was dripping down from their hands. spilled on the floorboards—a puddle of water, maybe. As Parker watched, unmoving, trying not to breathe, she heard a faint dripping noise.
Someone was standing there in the dark, just standing were in their Camp Care uniform. And something wet' was dripping down from their hands.
Parker's sleep-addled brain tried to puzzle it out. Maybe one of the girls had gone to the bathroom, or run out in a brief rainstorm?
Or maybe they'd snuck out to play in the lake? Maybe this was some sick joke, like the girls in her cabin were trying to scare her into leaving. Or maybe one of them was framing her as Cassandra had, trying to get her to do enough trouble that she’d get sent home early.
had, trying to get her into big enough trouble that she'd get sent immediately home.
"Hello?" she called softly. "I can see you."
The figure began to turn, lifting one dripping hand, and—
"Pillow fight!" someone shouted.
The door banged open and bounced off the wall. In charged ten girls in their pajamas holding pillows and shrieking. Someone hit the lights, and the rest of Possum cabin erupted out of their beds, grabbed their own pillows, and began swinging. Park could only watch, stunned, as feathers filled the air and nineteen giris screeched like banshees.
When the lights were on, she hadn't seen anything over by the screen door —no mysterious person, no wet spot where she'd definitely seen a dark, spreading puddle.
She must've been dreaming, or having sleep paralysis, or something, because she was certain she'd seen someone there. She stared at the door for so long without blinking that her eyes watered down her cheek onto her pillow. She just couldn't bring herself to turn away, to stop watching that door.
"Did you leave the door unlatched last night?" she asked Jasmine while the other girls descended on the bathroom to get ready.
It was a bright day, and the cabin was aglow with morning sun.
White and brown feathers dusted the floor, but over by the door, there was nothing to indicate there had ever been a puddle of water.
"Did you leave the door unlatched last night?" she asked Jasmine while the other girls descended on the bathroom to get ready.
Jasmine frowned. "No. They usually knock, and someone lets them in. You can't just pop it open from outside."
"But they just ran in."
Jasmine walked over to the door and fiddled with th atch.
"Huh. It seems totally normal. Although—ew. What?"
She pulled back her hand from the doorknob, and there was smear of red on it.
Whatever it was...it looked like blood.
"What if it's... Gory Tori?" Parker whispered.
Jasmine winced. "Where'd you hear about that? Never mind. don't want to know. Definitely don't talk about that again. There are rules, and then there are Rules with a capital R, and that on
get
you kicked out. It's just a stupid story some kids made up. It's not real."
"How do you know?"
Jasmine sighed and rolled her eyes. "I've been going here since I was six, every year, and then two full summers as a counselor, and I've never heard any facts, seen any evidence, or even been able to patch together a story that made any sense. It's just two words that kids whisper when they want to seem cool and scare the first graders, because every sleepaway camp ever has to have its own dumb rumor."
Parker was watching Addison, wondering what it would be like to be that tall and sure of yourself, that well-liked by the people around you. Getting good grades was a private thing, unless you bragged about it, which, yes, Parker probably did too much. But being good at archery or fishing was a public thing, like singing or dancing, and she wanted to know what it would be like to have people watch her do something and be jealous.
And because she was watching Addison so closely, Parker saw the exact moment it happened.
Addison had her back to the group as she pulled her last arrow out of the plywood, and then, suddenly, with no warning whatsoever or even the telltale twang of the string, an arrow thudded into the back of her arm, halfway between her shoulder and her elbow.
For a split second, it wiggled like an antenna.
She was the only one who saw Grey searching the underbrush in the forest behind the bench.
She was the only one who saw him squat and poke around the ground with a stick.
She was the only one who saw him stand up, holding a bow and quiver where no bow and quiver had any right to be.
Maybe it really was like a sleepaway camp horror movie-maybe some twisted guy in a mask was trying to pick them off one by one from the safety of the forest. Or maybe it was Gory Tori. A ghost could spook a horse, probably, and... well, okay, so a ghost probably couldn't shoot a bow and arrow, and Parker still wasn't willing to believe in ghosts. But maybe...a demon could possess someone and make them do it? Or maybe Gory Tori was dangerous troublemaker, some past camper or angry mountain man who wanted revenge?
So, yeah, I tried to fit in. Maybe it's time everyone else tried to accept me for who I actually am.
Cassandra had a broken arm. Addison had been shot. Sydney had been poisoned.
Something very dangerous was happening at camp, and all they could do was call people into the office and talk about being good teammates. It was preposterous.
But as she got closer, she could hear him shouting. His door was ajar, and she flattened herself against the wall of his cabin to listen.
"No, I'm telling you she said, 'Jenny McAllister.' I am absolutely, one hundred percent sure we don't have a Jenny this week. Yes, I checked the roster. And the girl she described looked exactly like...no, not like Jenny. Like...her. Messy long blond hair, dark brown eyes, freckles. And those bracelets up both arms. Those photos were never released. You have to know exactly where to look online to find them. Thank God there was no Internet in the eighties."
He paused and kicked his trash can, judging by the loud clank and thump.
"All these years, and we've never had another accident.
tragedy, and there's nothing you could've done to stop it, don't get me wrong, but that girl wasn't right, and this isn't right either. I called the real Jenny McAllister, just to see if anyone had been dredging up old stories, but she said there's been nothing." A pause.
"She's in her early forties now. She was such a pretty thing, and an ideal camper. And, then, what happened...The poor girl.
"I know, I know. But it was a long time ago. What happened was terrible, but it's like Mom always said: We have to keep going. We do important work here. We can't save 'em all. It must be somebody sneaking in to mess with us. A prank. Or maybe this new kid is just a bad seed. I've got all the counselors on the lookout, and we'll check the fences, too."
"You said Cassandra was bullying you," she said, her voice low and ominous. "And now she's not. Then it was Addison. She's gone.
Then Sydney. She's gone. Who's bullying you now? Who's making you want to leave, Parker? The director? Is he the problem?"
he's just bad at it. He doesn't like me, but nobody does. I don't know. Just because a couple of bullies disappear doesn't mean everything is suddenly okay."
Jenny growled, low in her throat. "It should. If you get rid of them, the bullies shouldn't be able to hurt you anymore."
All the skin prickled up Parker's neck and down her arms. She swallowed, her throat dry.
"Get rid of them," Jenny had said.
Get rid of them.
"Jenny, did you do something...bad?" she asked.
Jenny's head slowly swiveled toward her. "They got what they deserved."
If what Jenny had said was true, then Parker had been hanging out with someone very dangerous. With someone... evil.
Jenny had caused Cassandra's horse to buck.
She'd shot Addison with an arrow.
She'd poisoned Sydney.
And now—oh no.
Now she was going to be mad at Parker, too
Jenny was real, and whatever game she was playing was dangerous.
Parker understood now. "You're Gory Tori."
The other girl nodded. "You can just say Tori, you know. They told me my name was weird. They told me a lot of things."
"And Jenny.." Parker's teeth wanted to chatter, but she fought it. "That was your diary, wasn't it? Jenny McAllister was the girl who bullied you." She looked to Cassandra. "Are you saying Jenny McAllister is your mom?"
"Yes, but she's lying!" Cassandra shouted, glancing swiftly from Tori to Parker. "My mom said Tori was the bully. That she kept trying to force everybody to be her friend. That she had no boundaries. That she wouldn't take no for an answer. That she was creepy and weird and a stalker and would do anything for attention." Parker kicked Cassandra's foot and shook her head. Making
Jenny—no, Tori, Gory Tori, the camp ghost-
Making her angry wasn't going to help anybody.
"She was a bully!" Tori shrieked back. "She was mean! She called me names and made me sit on ketchup and told everybody it was my first period, She ran my bra up the flagpole, she and her clique, I tried so hard to be nice. I gave them my cookies at lunch and made them friendship bracelets and swept the cabin every morning and made their beds, but they were still mean to me. Until…”
and made them menaship acces aud
morning and made their beds, but they were still mean to me.
Until...
Tori swayed as she spoke, her voice high and quavering. "Jenny said they'd changed their minds. That I'd proved I was a good friend, but if I wanted to truly fit in, I had tp become a bod sister to her and her three best friends, the most popular girls in camp.
They told me the ritual would take place on Friday night-right here, the boiler room cabin, because nobody ever went there. Jenny said I had to go inside at midnight and use chalk to draw a circle on the floor, and I had to sit there and make a little cut on each wrist to prove my loyalty, and then they would all come in and join me and we'd touch our cuts together and be bound by blood forever."
"That's messed up," Parker murmured, but Tori wasn't listening.
Cassandra grabbed her wrist, hard, tears streaming down her face.
"So I did. I made friendship bracelets for each of them, and I drew my circle and used the pocketknife Jenny gave me to make teeny little cuts exactly how she told me to."
Tori held up her left arm and pulled back the layers of bracelets to show a deep, red cut longways on her wrist. Blood dripped down to her elbow and puddled on the floor. She did the same with her right arm to show the same red-rimmed wound
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
to show a deep, red cut longways on ner wrist, blood anipped down to her elbow and puddled on the floor. She did the same with her right arm to show the same red-rimmed wound.
Drip.
Drip.
Drip.
"I did exactly what she said," Tori whispered. "And I waited.
And they never came. It was so cold. And the blood came too fast. It wouldn't stop. When I tried to leave and go to the nurse's cabin the boiler room door was locked."
Parker followed Tori's line of sight to the back of the door. It was covered in scratches and smeared with blood. A fingernail was caught between two boards.
"I died here," Tori said. "And so will you."
"I thought you said we'd be best friends," Parker said.
Tori's glare went dark. "And then you said we weren't friends anymore.
"Because you hurt people! Sydney and Addison and" She looked at Cassandra, who was trying to wedge her fingers ne door.
"I hurt the people who bullied you the same way I wish someone had hurt the people who bullied me.
Because-well, with all the Cassandra stuff, Parker had kind of forgotten why they were here.
She'd forgotten they were trapped with a ghost.
She turned to face Tori, whose fingers played up and down the bracelets on her bloody wrists. "Aren't you going to attack us? Why are you letting us argue and cry like this?"
Tori grinned, showing black-rimmed teeth. "Because it's funny.
Because I've got nothing better to do. And because you're trapped here, just like me. You can do whatever you want. Scream, cry, argue, apologize. None of it matters. You don't matter. Camp doesn't care about you, just like it didn't care about me. No one hear you, and you'll slowly rot here until you die. Jenny McAllister will finally get to feel some of the pain she put out into the world..." She held out a blood-wet pinkie. "And you and I will really be best friends forever."
"I told you," Tori reminded them. "You can't leave."
"Why would we believe you?" Parker shot back. "You're a ghost."
But something was keeping Tori here, allowed her to take form.
Was there some way to get rid of her? To send her back to-wherever she was supposed to be? What held her here, besides the desire for revenge against those who'd hurt her?
They couldn't get out through the door or window, and the walls were solid. Parker looked down at the floor. Theré was something there, a heavy white line on the graying wood boards. It had to be the chalk circle Tori had drawn, as bright and powdery as the day she stood here, young and hopeful and alive, fully believing that all her dreams were finally coming true and she'd soon be one of the popular girls.
Parker scrubbed a foot through the chalk line, and Tori looke up, pained, and put a hand over her eye
"Stop!" Tori shouted.
"Cassandra, we have to erase the chalk line!" Parker shouted.
Cassandra's head shot up, and together they rubbed their sneakers through the chalk. Tori screamed for them to stop, jumped up and grabbed Parker's hair and tried to pull her away, but Parker she stood here, young and hopeful and alive, fully believing tnat a her dreams were finally coming true and she'd soon be one of the popular girls.
Parker scrubbed a foot through the chalk line, and Tori looked up, pained, and put a hand over her eye.
"Stop!" Tori shouted.
"Cassandra, we have to erase the chalk line!" Parker shouted.
Cassandra's head shot up, and together they rubbed their sneakers through the chalk. Tori screamed for them to stop, jun.ped up and grabbed Parker's hair and tried to pull her away, but Parker just shoved her, hard. Her body felt like a ham, like something heavy and wet and dead, and Tori landed on the floor with a thick, squelchy thunk. When she stood, Parker almost threw up.
It was as if parts of Tori were..rotting.
Her dark eyes were going white and filmy. Her lips were peeling away, curling back like an old jack-o'-lantern. Her hair was drying up and falling out in chunks. Her tan summer skin had bleached out to pale white threaded with lavender veins, and her fingertips were shredded meat gone black around the edges.
"Keep going!" Parker urged Cassandra.
The ghost-the corpse whatever Tori was now-pulled and tugged at them, pummeled and screeched and tried to stop them, but the more of the chalk line they erased, the weaker Tori became. By the time they'd moved all the way around the circle, she was fading away.
"You can't get rid of me," Tori growled. "We ll be here togethe forever."
Parker hated to admit that she was right. Even if Tori was less solid, even if she no longer felt like a threat, they were still trapped in a tiny cabin with her, with neither water nor food, and the door was firmly locked from the outside. Even if Parker still had the key, it wouldn't help. She stuck her hands in her pockets and found...
The four friendship bracelets.
She'd worn them proudly, then tried to get rid of them, but they'd stubbornly kept coming back.
There had to be something important about them.
Were they the ones Tori made for the four girls who should've been her blood sisters?
Was that what kept Tori rooted here-that promise that was never fulfilled? That ritual?
She glanced at Cassandra's fingers, which were alrea bleeding. Then she gritted her teeth and reached down, pressing her thumb against a big splinter in the wooden floorboards. A bead of blood welled up, and she stood.
"Tori, do you still want to be blood sisters?" she asked. She held out her thumb, dripping blood perched on its tip. "Come on, Cassandra. You, too."
Cassandra shot her a glance that said this was a very bad idea, but apparently living life under KJ and Olivia had made her more likely to just do what she was told. Cassandra held out one of her fingers, a smear of blood dribbling from where she'd been prying at the door.
Tori gasped.
"Really?"
She was nearly see-through now but when she looked at their offered hands, she changed. It was almost like a sunbeam breaking through dark clouds as she grew more corporeal and less... decomposed.
"Really," Parker answered
"That's all I ever wanted," Tori whispered.
And then, between one blink and the next, Tori was gone.
They were still plagued by the sound of dripping water, but it was only the trees shedding rain. The floor wore old stains, rusty brown and dull white, but the wet red puddles that had formed around Tori were gone. When Parker tried the door again, it pushed right open.
"I can't believe my mom used to go here," Cassandra said.
"Like, she probably walked right here. Her feet touched this ground."
"I can't believe your mom bullied Tori to death," Parker said, because she was done pretending that horrible things just happened and she was supposed to accept them and move on. She was sick of the way everyone tried to just sweep the bad stuff under the rug and forget about it.
"I know," Cassandra said, her voice tiny. "Her version of the story was...different."
"Suicide. They called it suicide. But it wasn't."
"No, it wasn't. My mom did something really, really horrible.
Maybe she didn't know it would turn out as bad as it did, but...
Cassandra shivered. "I never want to make someone feel horrible.”
Cassandra's face lit up with hope, and she gave Parker a grateful look. Parker couldn't quite believe it herself Cassandra had been true to her word. She'd told the truth in front of Maeve and Foggy, even though she might lose the thing she loved most. They were on the same side now, helping each other.
Then again, when they'd become blood sisters with Tori, they'd been holding hands, too.
According to the rules, they were blood sisters for life.
As she walked to the museum, she pulled the tangle of friendship bracelets out of her pocket. They were slightly damp, a little stained, and to her surprise, old and faded. When she'd worn these bracelets, they'd looked like they'd been made the day before. Now they looked their age: Thirty-four years old. Parker a moment to find just the right place, but suddenly she knew. Where 1987 ended and 1989 began, between pictures of the old camp and the new camp, she stuck a pushpin borrowed from the map through the wall and hung up the four bracelets. Camp Care could try to forget what had happened in 1988, but Tori deserved to be remembered. Not as she was whispered about, a vengeful, bloody figure that stalked the night, but as a girl who'd been misunderstood, bullied, and ignored. She should be remembered-so it would never happen again.
When Parker returned to the cafeteria, wiping the tears off her cheeks, Cassandra was dumping out her tray for her.
"Thanks," Parker said
Cassandra grinned, "Sure. That's what friends do."