The Sign in the Smoke (Nancy Drew Diaries Book 12) (18 page)

“So what happened?” Winnie asked eagerly, clutching the stuffed wiener dog she slept with each night to her chest. Her face was bright with anticipation and a little bit of fear. “Did someone die?”

Nina turned to Winnie, her eyes sparkling. “In the middle of the night, when everyone was sleeping, the counselor took one of the campers outside,” she said, “led her down to the lake, and . . .
drowned her
!”

Winnie was the first to scream, and then suddenly the whole tent was enveloped with shrieks.

“Guys!” Maya cried, pushing her hands down through the air in a
calm down
gesture. “Come on, guys. It’s just a story. Right, Nancy?”

“It . . .” I was about to confirm this when I suddenly caught sight of Harper. She’d been sitting behind Kiki, who was waving around dramatically, so I didn’t see until then how utterly
terrified
she looked. Her skin was as pale as marble, and her eyes appeared glassy. She was trembling hard enough that I could see it from several yards away.

Suddenly we heard footsteps outside the tent and the hatch was unzipped. This sent the girls into another round of screaming, all except Harper, who sat utterly still. A flashlight beam shone in, at first obscuring the person behind it, but then Sam came into focus.

“Everything all right in here?” she asked. The rain was still lashing down outside, and Sam was getting soaked. I felt terrible for letting my bunk get so excited and disturbing her. “We heard you guys way on the other side of the clearing. George says you’re freaking out the little ones.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” I said, trying to stand in the cramped tent. “The girls were telling ghost stories, and it got a little out of hand.”

Sam raised her eyebrows. “Ghost stories are fun, but maybe you girls should move on to bedtime-y stories,” she suggested. “It’s getting pretty late. The little ones were already trying to sleep, and we’re bedding down soon.”

“Good idea,” I agreed.

Sam nodded, smiled, and backed out of the tent. She zipped up the flap behind her.

Suddenly Maya spoke. “Hey, Harper,” she said, reaching over to place a gentle hand on Harper’s arm, “did you bring your book? Maybe you could read us another chapter.”

“Yeah!” cried Cece, bouncing up and down.

“Another chapter, another chapter!” the other girls began to chant.

Harper still looked a bit dazed, but she shook her head, as if to snap herself out of it. “Sure,” she said quietly after a few seconds. “Let me just get it from my backpack.”

She did, and Maya handed her the powerful flashlight she’d brought to use as a reading light.

Soon Harper took us all to a fantasyland where unicorns kept the peace, dreams were used as currency, and a friendly dragon gave advice to humans. Harper’s soft voice against the pelting rain made for a super-soothing story. We all climbed into our sleeping bags, and even I felt my eyes drooping.

When Harper reached the end, she said, “That’s the end of that chapter,” closed the book, and put it by her pillow. Then she settled into her own sleeping bag. She looked much calmer than she had during Nina’s story.

“Good night, everyone,” I called, snuggling down. About half of the girls were asleep already, but the rest called, “Good night,” and in what couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds, I was fast asleep.

A silver-haired girl moved soundlessly through the forest, slipping through the trees like a breeze. She looked behind her nervously, like she feared she was being followed. Then she moved into the clearing, which opened out onto a black, mirror-smooth lake.

An owl hooted as she ran to the beach and silently slipped into the water. The cool water enveloped her quickly, but she had no problem staying afloat, or seeing in the bright moonlight. A single silver beam cut through the water, illuminating something on the black lake bottom. A shining pearl ring.

The girl’s eyes widened and she dived down to retrieve it. It slid easily into her hand, and for a moment she just stared at it, the pearl reflecting in her velvety black eyes. She smiled, relieved. Then, just as she cupped the ring in her hand and lifted herself in the water to swim back to the surface . . .

Something grabbed her around the neck.
It was dark, a creature made of shadow and fangs, and it pulled her toward it, screaming. Alarm flashed in her eyes; she knew she was going to die. The ring fell from her hand. . . .

And I woke, my heart pounding a mile a minute.

“Nancy! Help!”

I gasped, terrified, trying to make sense of the darkness around me.
Oh, right.
I was in a tent with my bunk. It was the end-of-year campout. I must have just been having another nightmare. I tried to breathe in, to calm the hammering in my chest.
I guess that ghost story affected me more than I thought. . . .

Then I remembered: Someone was calling for my help! Or were they? I listened hard but heard only silence. Even the rain had stopped.

Was I just hearing things?

I reached for the small flashlight by my bed and turned it on. I flashed the weak beam around the tent, counting each sleeping head:
Maya, Kiki, Cece, Winnie, Katie, Nina . . .

And one empty sleeping bag.

I leaped up, angling to get a better look. Harper’s book still lay by her pillow, but the sleeping bag was rumpled and unzipped, as though she had recently left. I sat up, trying to quiet the clenching feeling in my stomach.
She probably just got up to use the bathroom. It was raining and we didn’t go before bed.

Now the woods were silent. The rain seemed to have stopped.

As quietly as I could, I slid out of my sleeping bag and crept out of the tent. I briefly considered grabbing Maya’s higher-powered flashlight, but then decided against it.
I’m only going to be a minute. She’s probably right on the edge of the woods, using the latrine we dug.

Outside the tent, the clouds had parted to reveal the moon, which was only a razor-sharp-looking crescent. I breathed in the cool night air and felt a bit better.
Nothing to worry about.

I shone my flashlight on the narrow path that led away from the tents and into the woods. The latrine was just a few yards beyond the first trees. As I got closer, I heard human-sounding noises and felt a rush of relief wash over me.
She’s just using the bathroom. No big deal.

I moved closer. “Harper?” I called, shining the flashlight toward the tree we’d dug the latrine behind. “Are you okay?”

“Hey!”

A voice that was decidedly
not
Harper’s cried out in alarm. “A little privacy, maybe? I’m not Harper! Sheesh!”

In my surprise, I couldn’t place the voice at first. But then it came to me. It was Janie, Bess’s CIT—aka Mini-George.

I backed away, feeling my cheeks burn. “Sorry about that! Sorry!” I stumbled back along the path to the cluster of tents in the clearing.

But if that isn’t Harper . . . where
is
she?

I was trying to quiet the fear that seemed to fill my veins with ice when I heard the voice again.

“Help me, Nancy! Please!”

It was undoubtedly Harper. And it was coming from a narrow path that led up the hill, farther into the woods.

I felt my heart speed up as I moved toward the path. I shone my weak flashlight beam ahead, but it barely penetrated the inky-black darkness.
Just like in my dream,
I thought.

And just when I thought I couldn’t be any more afraid, a hand reached out and grabbed me from behind.

BEFORE I COULD SCREAM, THE
figure that had grabbed me spoke. “Nancy, what are you doing?”

I shone my flashlight beam at it and nearly collapsed with relief. “Bess!”

She pushed a thick lock of blond hair behind her ear, still frowning. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Why are
you
out here?”

“Because I’m missing a camper,” I replied. “And—”

“You too?” Bess’s eyes widened. “I’m missing Janie, and—”

“I found Janie,” I replied. “She’s using the latrine and doesn’t want to be bothered. But Harper—”

“It’s not just Janie,” Bess said quickly. “Though that’s a relief, that she’s okay. I’m missing Olivia, too.”

Olivia.
I pictured the tiny girl with dark braids who liked to follow Bess around like a starstruck duckling.

“She’d never wander out on her own,” Bess went on in a rush. “She’s not the type. So I’m worried—”

“Help me please! Pl—mmmmph!”

My head swung around in the direction of the path. This time it sounded like Harper’s voice had been muffled, like someone had pressed a hand over her mouth.

“I was about to tell you,” I said quickly to Bess. “It’s coming from this path . . .” I shone the light up the path, just barely illuminating any of the darkness.

“Great,” Bess said, shining the flashlight from her smartphone in the same direction. “Let’s go.”

But as much as I wanted Bess’s company, I knew she could be more help here. “No, you stay here and wake Deborah and Miles,” I hissed. “Then the three of you follow up this path as soon as you can. Okay? I don’t have a good feeling about this.” I swallowed hard. “I’m afraid I was wrong about Bella,” I added, and then, when Bess nodded, started up the path.

My flashlight barely illuminated more than two feet in front of me, and the tiny sliver of moon wasn’t much help. The path was steep and rocky, and I mentally scolded myself for stupidly passing on Maya’s brighter flashlight. But it was too late now.

I followed the path up and around a steep bend, from which I could look down at the clearing filled with tents below. I could see light coming from Deborah and Miles’s tent.
Bess must be telling them.

I shone the flashlight ahead and kept going.

Now I was almost hoping to hear another cry for help. It would tell me that Harper was still okay and clue me in to her location. But only the soft chorus of bugs and frogs greeted me as I wound along the path, and the occasional deep hoot of an owl.

Are they okay? Does that mean they’re
not
okay?

I wasn’t sure how long I’d been walking. Ten minutes? Fifteen? I’d rounded the hill, and the path was now taking a slow descent back toward the lake. My chest tightened as I looked at the black, glossy surface of the water, remembering my dream.

If whoever’s behind this is the same person who’s been sabotaging the camp . . . and they’re obsessed with what happened to Lila . . .

I had to stop myself from finishing the thought.

Harper is a good swimmer,
I reminded myself instead.

I just hoped the same could be said for poor little Olivia.

There was only silence on the path behind me, and I wondered what had happened to Bess, Miles, and Deborah. Weren’t they coming? Surely they would come help, right?

Suddenly I reached a tiny clearing in the path, a small rocky outcrop that stood high over the lake. A small beach was below and to the left. I shone my flashlight all around, but couldn’t see where the path led from here. Down to the beach? Back into the woods? I’d gotten completely turned around and wasn’t sure where the tents were from here. Worse, I hadn’t heard anything from Harper or anyone else in at least ten minutes. My heart pounded. I hadn’t seen any branches leading off this path, but it was certainly possible I’d missed one or two in the dim light.