Friday, June 19, 2009

Dead Flowers

“Camping? Really?” I asked Mack as we sat on the edge of the dock with our feet dangling in the water.

“Why not? It'll be fun. Remember last time, with Scott and his masks?” she asked.

I did indeed remember Scott stalking through the woods in the dead of night, following Audrey on her pee run, jumping out mid-squat, his face concealed by a gorilla mask, scaring the piss out of Audrey. Literally.

“Yeah...but where are we going to go?” I ask.

“Well we could do my house again...” Mackenzie offered.

“That's so lame!” a voice called from behind, startling me.

Andy walked down to the dock in his signature CLYC t-shirt.

“We can't go camping behind your house again Mack,” he says. “Last time you stayed up half the night completely freaked that your parents were going to come out and find that we were sleeping in the same tent!”

Mackenzie's face turned sour at Andy's sarcasm.

“Hey look,” I said, peace-keeper as always. “That scared me too. I agree with Andy, I think we should go somewhere far away from anyone's parents, that way we don't have to worry about them walking in on anything...promiscuous. Especially since Michael and Adela are coming."

“Well then where should we go?” Mackenzie asked.

“North Bar?” Andy suggested.

“Yeah but Keegan and the Browns and everyone have already been there, done that.” I said.

“She's right. We need somewhere way cooler,” Mackenzie stated. “Too bad there's nowhere in Traverse City!”

“Then maybe we should go out of Traverse City...” Andy said, a faraway look in his eyes.

“What are you thinking?” I asked him, for I knew that look. It was the look in his eye before he came up with the idea to unionize prostitution in Africa for our debate team. The look he got in AP Lang when he suggested to Courtney that all Catholic Priests should be fixed so they stop raping little boys. It was the look in his eye when, against all odds, he actually came up with a brilliant, though slightly unorthodox, idea.

“Well...Michael's going to Michigan.” He said, as if this insight would clue us in to exactly what he was thinking.

I glanced at Mackenzie and noticed that she looked as befuddled as I felt. We knew that Michael Budros was going to the University of Michigan in the fall, what we did not know was what on earth that had to do with our camping dilemma.

“Elaborate, please.” I demanded.

Andy looked exasperated. “Haven't you ever heard of Mercywood Hospital?”

Mackenzie stared at him, a confused look on her face. I took this opportunity to stare at my shoes.

“You guys are so sheltered!” He said angrily. “Mercywood Hospital is an insane asylum that closed down in the seventies. It's really far back in the woods and it's supposed to be really hard to find. Apparently it fell into disrepair and the caretaker stopped taking care of the grounds and now the place is overgrown. It's supposed to be haunted, nobody ever goes there anymore,” he finished his monologue, looking satisfied.

Mack and I still had no idea where he was going with this.

“Keep connecting those dots bud,” she said.

“Ok. Listen to me. Michael is going to U of M, which is in Ann Arbor. Mercywood Hospital is in Ann Arbor as well. We tell our parents that we are going to go spend the weekend down there with Mike, touring the school, getting a feel of it, as well as seeing Michael off and making sure he's comfortable down there. You're parent's would totally buy that,” he said to Mackenzie.

“It's true,” she agreed.

“Ok, so we go down there on the pretext of touring Michigan, but instead, we hike out into the woods and try to find Mercywood. Unless you're too scared,” he challenged.

“Correction!” Mackenzie retorted. “I am NOT too scared!”

Their conversation veered off into a “who is a bigger chicken” contest, but at that point I was no longer paying attention. I shifted my gaze out onto Spider Lake and uncrossed my legs so that my feet were dangling in the water again. Mercywood Hospital. I thought. We meet again.

***

“Remind me again who's going?” my aunt asked from my doorway.

“Michael, Adela, Andy, Mackenzie, Audrey, Matt, Scott, Megan, Nick, Spencer and myself,” I said for the umpteenth time.

My aunt entered my room and crossed the hardwood floor to stand next to me at the foot of my bed. “I'm not so sure I'm ok with boys going,” she said as she helped me pack.

I rolled my eyes. “Aunt Mary, I've already told you, these boys are not REAL.”

“What exactly does that mean?” She asked, folding up my Tar Heels t-shirt and putting it next to my bathing suit.

“It means that I am not going to do anything with any of them. Michael is with Adela, so he's out.
Andy is like my brother, so that would never happen. Scott is insane, so you don't have to worry about him,”

“That's true,” my aunt agreed with a chuckle.

“And Spencer,” I continued, “has a thing with Anna, who is not going. He is also my debate partner, and I am a firm believer in not crapping where I eat,” I finished.

“Lovely way to put it,” my aunt said with her nose in the air.

“Hey, you asked. I was just explaining why you don't need to worry about me hooking up with anyone.”

“Alright.” she sighed, recognizing defeat.

Together we zipped up my suitcase and climbed down the stairs. My uncle was waiting for us in the living room.

“Are you sure you have everything?” He asked.

“Yeah, I've got it.”

“Ok, be careful. Don't go anywhere by yourself and don't forget the pepper spray your Aunt Wendy bought you.”

“Got it right here Uncle Kurt,” I said, gesturing to the bag I had slung over my shoulder.

“Now how many boys are-” he started to ask, but he was interrupted by a car horn sounding in the driveway.

“That's my ride!” I said, relieved. I grabbed my bags and headed to the door.

“Love you guys,” I called as I stepped outside. I walked down the porch steps to where Andy was waiting. I never looked back.

***

“Do you think she knows...” my aunt muttered, watching me load my suitcase into Andy's van.

“I don't see how she couldn't,” my uncle said, coming up behind her.

“Maybe she's forgotten,” she breathed, her tone hopeful.

“There's no forgetting that,” my brother said, coming out of the kitchen. “She knows exactly where she's going, and she knows what it means.”

“Do you think she's strong enough?” my aunt asked the room at large.

“She'll have to be,” was my brother's hollow reply.

***

Andy and I pulled into CPL and waited with the windows rolled down for everybody else to arrive.

“Are you stoked to be going?” Andy asked.

“Andy,” I said, smiling, “how many times do I have to tell you? In Michigan, we do not say stoked.”

“Well sorry that I haven't picked up the jargon as quickly as you have!” Andy said, his voice full of mock-anger.

Andy moved to Michigan from California in sixth grade, the same year I moved to our town from Farmington Hills. I think that's why we were so close, we were both the new kids, the outsiders. In the five years that we've lived here, we've made other friends, but we still rely on each other the same way we did when it was only us.

“I think I see Laundry and Coleman pulling up,” Andy said, referring to Matt and Audrey, and interrupting my reverie.

We got out of the car to meet them. Before Audrey could even turn the car off, Matt opened the door and fell onto the concrete, kissing it.

“Oh man, it's good to be alive!” he said in between makeout sessions.

Andy laughed. “Still haven't learned to drive a stick, Laundry?” He asked, egging her on.

Audrey opened got out of her car, her face burning bright red. “I know how to drive a stick!” She yelled in between giggles. I don't know how Aud did it, but she always managed to giggle when she was furious.

“It's not my fault the car stalled in the middle of that intersection!” Audrey railed on, determined to prove her innocence.

“Well, Laundry, the fact that you were the one driving kind of means that it was.” Andy loved stirring up trouble with “the laundry” as he called her.

“Hey guys,” I said, interrupting. “Everyone else is here, so shut up.”

***

After explaining to everyone why Matt had turned from kissing the pavement to vomiting on it, and why Audrey's face was red, we established that she wasn't the best candidate to drive to Ann Arbor, mostly because nobody was suicidal enough to ride with her.

No, the lovely burden of driving a car full of teenagers instead fell upon me. Which is how I ended up the only one awake at three in the morning driving down the interstate.

I kept flipping the buttons on the radio, trying in vain to find a good country station. Finally, after several minutes attempt, I heard the last notes of the new Blake Shelton song, and I knew I'd struck gold.

Suddenly, the song cut off.

“Sorry to interrupt folks,” a voice on the radio, twinged in a southern accent, said. “But we have to issue a warning for all residents of Washtenow and all surrounding counties that a patient from our high security insane asylum has escaped. We advise all travelers-” The voice cut out, static replacing it.

“Come on, come on,” I muttered as I tuned the station to another frequency. “There!” I shouted as I heard the voice come in better.

“What's going on?” Michael said groggily. Apparently my festive interjection woke him from his slumber.

“Shh!” I hissed, turning up the radio loudly.

“Residents must be warned that this man is armed and dangerous. Do not try to apprehend him. If you see him call the police immediately and get yourself to a secure place.”

“Oh my God!” Michael yelled. I was afraid his volume would wake everyone in the car, but as I looked into my rearview, everyone was already awake anyway, with the exception of Audrey.

“The prisoners name is...son...extremely dangerous...shaggy dark hair...six foot...inches...” The radio station was now almost unintelligible.

“Shit!” I exclaimed, “What's his name, what's his name?”

I fiddled with the buttons until the station came in clearer. “...son is his name once again folks, and if you see him watch out. He's escaped from a mental hospital once before and is incredibly psychotic. Residents, once again, steer clear of this man! Now, on a lighter note, we've got Miranda Lambert's latest and a Dolly Parton classic following these messages from our sponsors.”

Michael turned the radio back down. Everyone in the car was chattering about the news we'd just heard, finally rousing Audrey in the process.

“What did I miss?” asked Audrey sleepily.

Everyone hurried to fill her in. In all the excitement, nobody noticed my hands launch into a white-knuckled grip onto the steering wheel. Nobody noticed my face turn from a healthy tan to a sick, deathly pale.

***

“Where the Hell are we staying?” Megan asked.

“It's not much further,” Andy said angrily. “Quit your whining!”

They were in the car behind me, following me up the two track to get to the campground we were staying at.

“Ugh and we are staying outside?” Megan was relentless.

“Yes Megan. That's what camping is. We are going to pitch some tents once we get to our site, that way we can stay there tonight and work out a game plan to navigate the woods around here and try to find Mercywood,” he explained for the thousandth time.

“I still don't see why we have to sleep outside. We're in freakin' Ann Arbor. DON'T tell me there aren't any hotels here.”

“That's not the point Megan. The point is finding Mercywood hospital. And to do that, we need to camp.”

“I still don't see what's so great about Mercywood,” she griped. “How am I supposed to get my triple skim espresso out in the middle of nowhere?”

Andy didn't even dignify that with a response.

***

“Here we are!” I said as I pulled the suburban into what passed for the parking lot at Fort Triumph Campground.

“Rustic,” I mused to Michael, the only one awake.

“Mmhmm,” he murmured, not looking up from the magazine in his lap.

“Whatcha readin' there sport?” I asked, trying to make conversation. Michael was the one
person on this trip I had never been close to. For some reason, he and I just never clicked, and we weren't friends the way everyone else was.

When Michael remained silent, I look at the title of magazine. Trucker's Monthly.

“Wow Michael, I totally get what Adela sees in you, you're a total catch. Take me now sailor!” I said.

“Mmhmm,” Michael said again.

I laughed as I got out of the car. “How he got into Michigan I'll never know,” I said under my breath.

***

The bells attached to the door of the Ranger's station jangled as I opened the door.

“I'll be with y'all in a minute,” a cheerful voice said.

I opened my mouth to answer but stopped short when my eyes adjusted to the dark. The cheerful voice did not at all match up with the gruesome décor of the lounge. There were old, decrepit mounts covering every square inch of the far wall and to my left there was a puce-colored wall with holes and mold and cracks from the ceiling to the floor. To my right there was another wall covered with pictures that had little captions beneath them. When I leaned in to inspect them closer, I gasped. The “posters” were of convicts that had escaped in the area, and below were descriptions of the crimes they committed. Suddenly I didn't want to look anymore. This wall hit too close to home, and I knew that if I kept looking, it would only be a matter of time before I saw the face that haunted my every nightmare. The face I never wanted to see again.

The bells jangled again behind me, causing me to jump.

“Woah, didn't mean to scare you there!” Nick said as he walked in the door.

He squinted around the room. “Wow, this place is creepy.” He gave a violent shudder. “What are you looking at?”

Nick rested his chin on my shoulder. Tilting my head, I observed the shock on his face as he registered what he was reading.

“Holy panda-monium!” he exclaimed. “Why would you put this on a wall?”

“I don't know...” I said, my voice surprisingly steady.

“Hey, look at this one...” Nick pointed to a picture of a middle aged man with blonde, wavy hair.

At first glance, he looked attractive. But when you looked at him, really looked at him, his eyes gave him away. They were blue, almost unnaturally so, and they had a coldness to them unparalleled by any snowstorm. Beneath his picture, the caption read:

Andrew Opsasnick, 42, 5'10”. Arenac County.
Convict escaped Standish Max Security Prison
and is suspected to be heading south. Wanted
for the murders of six women and three children.
Suspect is considered extremely dangerous and
civilians should not attempt to apprehend Opsasnick.


“Oh look!” Nick said. “This one over here raped 28 women before he was incarcerated. And this one is a serial arsonist who burned down twelve elementary schools! And this guy, woah! This guy's a psycho! He murdered his own family and an entire softball team, and then he escaped! That's really scary. And hey, this one looks new!”

Just then, the cheerful voice from before rang out over Nick's excited babble. “I can help y'all now if you'd like!”

I grabbed Nick's arm before he could read anymore and pulled him toward the sound of the voice. We went around a corner and found ourselves squinting again, only this time it was due to the bright light shining through the window.

“Howdy, my name's Shelby!” said the cheerful voice, which ended up belonging to a smiling girl around our age.

“Hi, I'm Baige, and this is Nick. Our party has reservations...” I said.

“Of course you do! But y'all didn't need to tell me that!” She said happily. “I knew who y'all were by default, seeing as y'all the only party that's campin' here!”

“We're—I'm sorry, we're what?” Nick asked, disbelief coloring his face.

For the first time since our arrival, Shelby's face fell. “Yeah, sadly we don't get many folks 'round these parts. Somethin' 'bout all them escaped convicts roamin' these hills tends to scare people a tad bit.

“But y'all don't have nothin' to worry 'bout!” She said quickly, noticing the petrified look on Nick's face. “We ain't seen none of them convicts 'round here! They's mostly just keep to themselves. Y'all should be perfectly safe!

“Now if you could just hand over that pretty little credit card of yours...” she asked me hopefully.

I reached into my bag to get my card when Nick grabbed my arm.

“Sorry,” he said to Shelby. “We need a quick conference.”

“What the HELL do you think you're doing?” he asked as soon as we were out of earshot.

“I thought I was paying for our campsite,” I said, though I knew perfectly well what he was talking about.

“Correction! We are NOT staying here. I for one do NOT want to have a make-out sesh with a hardened criminal!”

The bell jangled again and we looked up to see Michael, Adela and the rest of the group walking in.

“What's going on?” Matt asked.

“I'll tell you what's going on!” spluttered Nick. “There are CRIMINALS on the loose out here and NO ONE is staying here and we are the ONLY campers and it is NOT real.”

“Wait, seriously?” Andy asked.

I nodded.

“Well then that's cool.”

“That is not cool!” Megan squealed. “I don't want to get raped and killed!”

“I don't either!” Audrey said, a note of panic in her voice.

“Don't worry Laundry,” Andy teased, “Coleman will protect you.”

“I wouldn't be so sure about that...” I said.

They all looked at me.

“What?” I shrugged. “Coleman's kind of scrawny.

Most everybody laughed. Coleman and Laundry, however, gave me looks of the utmost disdain. Guess you can't have everything, I thought, and shrugged. Coleman and Laundry didn't concern me much at the moment.

“I say we put it to a vote,” I suggested over the din. “Those in favor of staying, raise your hand.”

Adela and Michael looked at each other, then slowly raised their hands. Andy, Mackenzie, and Spencer followed suit.

“Those opposed...”

Audrey, Matt, Nick, Megan and Scott raised their hands.

I was going to be the tie breaker. Shit.

They were all looking at me.

“Well it looks like we're staying,” I said, and walked back over to Shelby to complete the transaction.

***

“You've got to be kidding,” Megan said, surveying the campsite with a disgusted look on her face.

“I am NOT sleeping here. This is a joke!”

“It's rustic!” Andy said, slamming his bag to the ground.

I shot Andy a reproachful look. “Take it easy on my tent big guy,” I said.

“I am just SO sick of her whining!” he looked like he was ready to cry.

“Where is everyone sleeping?” Adela asked, interrupting Andy's tantrum.

“Well I reserved three sites, because we all obviously can't fit into one.

“Adela, Michael, Coleman and Laundry are in site three. Spencer, Nick, Megan and Scott are in site 4, and Andy, Mack and I are in site...8?” I looked at the reservation confirmation sheet. How was it possible that we were separated like this? It's not like the campground was crowded, we were the only people in there. So why were Andy, Mack and I so far away from everyone? I couldn't even see our site from 3 and 4. This didn't make any sense at all.

“I'll go check this out with Shelby,” I said. “This can't be right.”

“I'll come,” Spencer said, jogging to my side. “You probably shouldn't walk around this place alone, it's kind of spooky.”

We walked back to the ranger station on one of the overgrown trails. “This place sure looks like it's seen better days,” I mentioned, trying to make conversation.

“Well actually it was established in 1998. This land was originally part of the grounds of Mercywood. The state fell on some hard times back in the nineties and they sold part of the property to a local entrepreneur who turned it into a campground,” said Spencer, sounding as usual as though he swallowed a textbook. “At first, the owner capitalized on the land's controversial history, the campground's original name was 'Lunacy.' It was very prosperous for several years, but then tragedy struck.

“One morning the owner of the campground was found with a bullet in his brain. The pistol to which the bullet belonged was in his right hand. There was no note and the people closest to him assured the police that he showed no outward signs of depression. And the strangest thing of all? The man was left-handed. The police interviewed everyone in contact with the man, but they could find no suspects and indeed no motive for the murder.”

“I have two questions for you,” I said.

“Shoot.”

“One: The campground was obviously an asset, couldn't that be a motive? Maybe he refused to sell it and somebody killed him to buy it?”

Spencer looked at me and his glasses slipped to the bridge of his nose. “You are so hot right now,” he whispered.

I laughed. “Ok, question number two: How do you know all this?”

He pushed back his glasses and sighed. “I researched Mercywood when Andy said we were going to stay here. I thought it strange they'd build a campground so close to a mental institution, so I used Wikepedia articles on the founding of this place. Contrary to what everyone says, Wikepedia is actually a legit site and is very useful when you want to learn information quickly. That's when I discovered the juicy story about the owner.

“And to answer your first question, the police looked into that. It turns out that the man left the campground to a distant niece, his only family. She had an airtight alibi; she was in Little Rock the night of the murder, and she'd never even heard of her uncle until he left her the campground. Nevertheless, she took it up and tried to run it.

“After a while though, “strange things” started happening at the campground. Campers would hear noises long into the night, and shadows would skip across the walls of the tent, shadows shaped like a man with a machete. Then one day three teenagers were camping here and they mysteriously disappeared without a trace. The police never found them, and no one had any idea what happened to them. People stopped coming after that, and the once booming campground fell into disrepair,” Spencer finished.

“Spooky,” I agreed. And we walked the rest of the way to the ranger station in silence.

***

“You've got to be kidding,” I said, my mouth gaping open.

“No, I'm really sorry,” Shelby said, and she genuinely looked it.

“There has to be some mistake,” I tried to take the register from her but she pulled it out of my reach.

“I'm sorry, but this is classified information. The only information I am allowed to give you is just what I've already told you. Another party booked every single campsite in the campground, except for the three we've given you. We cannot allow you to camp in the other sites because they are being paid for by someone else,” she said, sounding unusually official.

“Yeah, but nobody's there,” I said, dumbfounded. This had to be a joke.

“Yes I know that,” said Shelby, quickly losing patience. “But this party overpaid for their sites and gave the establishment a generous tip, we have no choice but to respect their wishes.”

“Are their any other campgrounds in the area?” I asked unnecessarily; Spencer's grim face answered my question for her.

Shelby looked at me and shook her head.

“Right,” I said, recognizing defeat. “Right. Well I guess we'll just have to split the third group up and cram everybody into the two campsites.”

“Sorry, but we can only allow five people per campsite, otherwise it's a fire hazard. You could split up your third group, but, and correct me if I'm mistaken, that would leave you with one extra person who would be forced to camp alone in site 8. And believe you me, I would NOT recommend that,” she leaned forward conspiratorially. “Listen, I ain't supposed to be tellin' y'all this, but we've got some funny things happenin' 'round here. Disappearances, creepy shadows, even,” (at this point she looked over her shoulder dramatically, as if checking to make sure she couldn't be overheard) “Killuns.”

***

“What the hell?!” screeched Megan when we brought back the news.

“But I thought she said that we were the only ones camping?” Andy asked. He had now taken to ignoring Megan whenever she spoke in the hopes it would stifle her whining.

“She did,” Spencer said. “When Baige asked she had to call the owner of the campground to ask why he booked us like that.”

“And the owner refused to change it?” Andy asked. “What a bitch.”

“I agree,” I said. “But this is the only campground even remotely close to Mercywood, and if we want to find it, this is our only option.”

“Why don't we all just sleep here anyway?” Audrey suggested. “Screw the fire hazard.”

I glared at Spencer. “He,” I said, jerking my thumb in his direction, “said that very same thing to Shelby, and she said that the person who patrols the campground at night checks for that, and if more than five people are found in one campsite he charges 100 bucks to the bill, and I for one cannot afford that.”

Everyone in our group was silent for a few moments.

“So what are we going to do?” Matt finally asked.

“I think that since we can have five people in one campsite, that we should fill 8 to maximum capacity. So who wants to stay there?” I asked.

Everyone stared at me. Nobody raised their hands.

“Fine,” I said. “I will stay in site 8. Who will stay with me?”

Mackenzie hesitated for a moment, then raised her hand. I nodded at her.

“Good, good. Who else?” I looked around the circle, gazing into each person's eyes as I made my way around, trying to guilt them into staying with us.

Michael looked at Adela and then slowly raised his hand.

“Adela, are you in as well?” Mackenzie asked.

"Hell no!" Adela spat.

“Right,” I stated. “I can see this isn't getting us anywhere. OK, Spencer and Nick, you guys are with us. The rest of you can divide amongst yourselves into three and four. Now that that's settled, Nick, Mack, Spence, Michael, grab your gear. We're going to campsite 8.”

***

“This is such a frigging long walk,” I said to no one in particular.

We'd been walking for several minutes on one of the campground's decrepit paths and site 8 was still nowhere to be seen.

“Are you sure we're going the right way?” Mackenzie asked.

I consulted our map of the camp again. “Yes, according to this the site should be just up the hill...” My voice trailed off as I looked to where I was pointing.

“Holy sweet Jesus,” Michael breathed. “That is not a hill, that's an effing mountain!”

He was right. By the time we reached the top of the hill it was dusk and we were all panting and dead tired.

“I am so tired,” Spencer said, throwing his bags on the ground and then collapsing on them.

“We can't relax yet,” I said. “It's almost night, and we need to get these tents up before we go to sleep, unless you guys want to sleep out in the open, exposed to everything out there.

“We obviously need a fire, but I think it would work best if we split up because we have too much to do before nightfall and it would be more efficient if we divided up the tasks. Mackenzie, let's go get water and some firewood, and we'll work on starting the fire. Spencer, Michael and Nick, why don't you all work on setting up the tent.”

The guys glared at me and muttered mutinously underneath their breath, but they complied as Mackenzie and I walked to the shanty on the other side of the hill, which, according to the map, housed the closest water spigot.

“Come on you piece of garbage,” I said, “Turn ON!” I was pumping with the lever of the spigot with all my might but the thing was barely dribbling out anything.

“Maybe we should get one of the boys to come help us,” Mackenzie suggested.

“Mack, come on. Have you seen Spencer and Nick? I don't know about Michael, but if he's anything like the other two, we'd be better off asking that chipmunk for help than those boys. Honestly, Alvin over there looks more muscular.”

“I guess you're right,” Mackenzie sighed, gazing off into the distance.

I have a stubborn streak in me. If I decide something should work, then it is going to work. And I had my mind set against that water spigot. It got to the point that I forgot everything else around me, my quest for domination was the only thing I could see. So when Mackenzie gasped and dropped the bucket on my foot you can imagine my surprise and hopefully forgive me for the curse words I uttered.

“What was that?!” Mackenzie squealed, pointing to a shady area in the trees just outside the shanty.

I strained my eyes in attempts to beat the fading light. “I don't see anything,” I muttered.

“It was just there!” Mackenzie said, still pointing, her eyes vivid with fear. “It looked like a man, and he had something in his hand. I looked up and seemed to be facing us, but I blinked and the next second he was gone.”

Looking at first the half-filled bucket of water, and then to where Mackenzie was pointing, I made a difficult decision.

“Alright, let's go over there and look,” I sighed, resigned to the fact that she wouldn't let it go until we did.

We walked over to the trees and, just as I suspected, there was no one there. I turned to leave when suddenly Mackenzie grabbed my arm.

“Look!” She cried, pointing to the ground. “The leaves in this area are all turned over and messed up, but they're clean everywhere else!”

I closed my eyes. Not again. “It was probably just an animal,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady enough to soothe her. “Maybe a bear.”

“But it looked so much like a...Wait a bear?!” Mackenzie looked panicked.

“Yeah, but they won't bother you if you don't bother them.”

She looked unconvinced, and very uneasy.

“How about I finish pumping the water and then we head back to camp ok?”

Mack attempted to look brave but I could see she was really shaken up.

“Listen,” I consoled, “bears are afraid of humans, and they hate sound. The louder we are, the more likely it is they'll get as far away as possible.”

Normally I hate singing. Despise it. But at this moment Mackenzie's fear was greater than my embarrassment. I took a deep breath. “OUR SONG IS A SLAMMIN' SCREEN DOOR, SNEAKIN' OUT LATE TAPPIN' ON YOUR WINDOW....”

She grinned and started singing along, quietly at first but with more gusto as we got further into the chorus. By the time we got to “I grabbed a pen and an old napkin and I wrote down our song,” the bucket was filled.

“Feel better?” I asked.

Mackenzie nodded but moments later I distinctly heard her mutter “It didn't look like a bear to me,” under her breath.

***

When we got back to the campground the tent was up and the guys had started the fire and were sitting around it cooking hot dogs.

“Baige, Mack, I've got your sticks right here,” Spencer said, winking.

Mackenzie gave a shaky laugh, but it didn't hide the anxiety on her face.

“Mack, what's up with you? Ya look upset,” Nick said.

“I thought I saw-” My cell phone rang, interrupting her.

“Hey Andy,” I said, sliding it open. “What's going on?”

“Megan and Adela left!” He yelled.

My insides went cold. “What do you mean they left? Where did they go? Andy, what happened?”

“Laundry, Coleman, Scott and I went to get some water and explore but Adela and Megan said they wanted to stay behind and set up their stuff in the tents. When we came back they were gone.”

“Are you sure they left? Andy we have to look for them, oh my God when did this happen?” I was slipping into full blown panic mode.

“No all their stuff is gone and so are my car keys. They left Baige. They didn't disappear, they didn't die, there's nothing mysterious about this. They chickened out and took everything. That's all there is to it. They're gone.”

My breathing slowed and my pulse leveled out, but I still felt there was something wrong. “And you're sure they're ok?”

“I tried calling their cell phones but neither answered, I think it's because they think we're going to freak out on them for ditching us and stealing the car, AND THEY'RE RIGHT!” He yelled the last words.

“Keep calling them, call Adela every fifteen minutes and I'll do Megan. They'll answer eventually.”

“Alright,” he said. “At least we won't have to deal with the whining anymore.” And then he hung up.

“They left?” Michael asked. “I can't believe it.”

“What a bitch move,” interjected Spencer.

I caught Nick's eye next to me. He looked just as uneasy as I did.

“I'll take Adela if you want to do Megan,” he murmured into my ear.

“Deal,” I said, taking out my phone.

***

We didn't get a hold of them that night, Nick assured me that it was because they didn't want to get bitched out, but the nagging in the pit of my stomach caused me to be unconvinced. After a sleepless (on my part) night, everyone was ready and “stoked” to find Mercywood the next day.

“God, this is thrilling,” Spencer said over our breakfast of cold pop tarts. “Just think, in a couple of hours we could be exploring the labyrinthine passages that are Mercywood!”

Mackenzie smiled and I managed a weak laugh at Spencer's precociousness; Michael remained entranced with his edition of Trucker's Monthly.

“Alright well the tent is packed away,” Nick said, walking over to the fire. “Now all we have to do is meet up with the other group and we'll be on our way! Where are we supposed to meet them?” he asked me.

“I don't know,” I said, getting out my phone and pushing speed dial three.

“Hello?” Andy answered.

“Hey, it's me. We're ready to go. Where are we meeting you?”

“Well the thing is Laundry and Coleman are still not awake yet. We keep going in there but all they do is mumble and roll over. I guess they aren't morning people. But I was looking at the maps and I think it might be quicker if you take a side trail and we meet you at Keller's
Landing.”

I walked over to where the tent was and took the map out of my backpack. It took all of about three seconds to locate Keller's Landing, halfway between the campground and Mercywood, and to determine that it would indeed be faster if we took a side trail and met up there rather than back at Andy's campsite.

“Alright,” I reluctantly agreed. “But are you sure Matt and Audrey are ok? Do you need help waking them up? Maybe if I went over there and walked with you guys-”

“Baige,” he interrupted, “That would take all day. Then we'd be even more delayed because we'd have to wait for you to get here. They're fine and they'll be up any second. Stop worrying, we'll meet you there.” And he hung up.

With that uneasy feeling that I'd soon grow accustomed to gnawing at my gut, I relayed Andy's plan to everyone else. They all of course agreed that it was a sensible idea, and we began our trek down the side path to get to Keller's Landing.

The path, like most everything else at the campground, was overgrown and almost impassable.

On the way down I caught Michael looking longingly back to where our tent stood, almost like he'd never see it again. Then I caught his eye.

At the time it made me smile, knowing that Michael was uncomfortable without even the most modest form of luxury. “We'll be back tonight,” I promised him. But I was wrong. Dead wrong.

None of us would ever set foot on this campground again. Alive, at least.

***

“Shouldn't they have beaten us here?” Michael asked after we'd been waiting around at Keller's Landing for forty-five minutes.

“Yes, they should have. Maybe I should call them again...” I said, reaching for my phone.

“You have called them a bajillion times,” Nick said, exasperated. “They are NOT going to answer so you should PROBABLY just give up.”

I ignored Nick and called Audrey anyway. Sure enough, she didn't answer.

“I'm so sick of just sitting here,” Mackenzie said, looking annoyed. “They're probably not even coming.”

“You know what I think happened?” Spencer asked. “I bet they got here, waited about five minutes, called, got sick of waiting, and then left, assuming we'd catch up with them somewhere along the trail.”

“Spencer's probably right,” Michael agreed.

I glared at him. I was beginning to see the reasons why he and I had never become bosom buddies, he was a bit of an idiot.

“It's time for a vote,” Spencer declared, mocking me. “Who is in favor of waiting here until they arrive?”

“Even though that will probably be the day that Ellen Degeneres gets knocked up, I'm just sayin',” Mackenzie muttered.

Ignoring her, I raised my hand.

“And all of those in favor of heading out to Mercywood which is where, in all likelihood, everyone else is anyway?”

Michael raised his hand. No surprise there. But so did Mackenzie, Nick and Spencer. I was outnumbered.

“Fine,” I said. “Spencer, why don't you lead the way.”

Everyone filed out of the clearing behind Spencer. Nick stayed back and looked at me a little guiltily.

“We can't wait around for them forever,” he said apologetically.

“I know,” I sighed. “I just wish I knew that they were ok.”

“Come on Baige, lighten up. What could possibly happen to them? Nobody's out here!”

I acknowledged the logic, but I knew he was wrong. I was living proof that horrible things could, and did, happen, usually when you least expect them. My past had given me a little something, call it Esp, women's intuition, whatever, but it was there inside me. I had feelings, and I could sense when things were about to happen. And at that moment, my “feelings” were in overdrive. Something bad was going to happen. I am never wrong. Something bad was going to happen. The question was, what? And to whom?

***

“I really hate awkward silences...” Spencer said from the front of the group.

“Me too!” Michael said. “Let's start a sing-along.”

Mackenzie and I exchanged a quick glance. What the Hell is he doing...

“If I should stayyyyyyyy, I would only be in your wayyyyyyyyyy,” Michael belted out.

“Who knew he was a Whitney Huston fan?” Nick said, trying to salvage our opinion of Michael's sanity.

“I think this is more Dolly inspired,” I said as Michael hit the chorus.

“IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII will alwaaaaaaays loooooooooooove yooouuuuuuu, I will always love--”

Just at that moment, I thought I heard a shout above Michael's chorale audition. “Shut up Michael,” I said, trying to hear better.

Michael paused the jukebox and looked put out.

“What?” Spencer asked.

“I thought I heard something.”

“Yeah, you heard Michael singing I Will Always Love You,” Spencer retorted.

“No, it was something else, it sounded like a shout...”

“It was probably just an animal,” Mackenzie suggested.

“Yeah,” Spencer agreed pompously, “it was probably just an animal.”

“Spencer I've had enough of your sass!” Mackenzie said, walking ahead to bicker with Spencer as Michael jumped back into his song with even more gusto.

I was still very uneasy, but I followed them anyway. Nick caught my eye from up ahead, and I could tell from the look on his face that he didn't believe it was an animal either.

***

“If my calculations are correct....” Spencer said, still leading the hike.

“Are we FINALLY there?” Nick whined. He, like the rest of us, had grown tired of Michael's sing-along. After he finished I Will Always Love You, he moved onto Hard Candy Christmas, Coat of Many Colors, Backwoods Barbie, and finally Jolene. I like Dolly as much as the next person, but trust me, Michael was NOT likely to have a show with Porter Wagner anytime soon.

“Yes, Nick. Just around this corner...”

I gasped as I followed the group around the turn and laid my eyes on Mercywood. I had seen this building before, of course. But only ever in black and white grainy pictures shown to me by the social worker as a sort of therapy. Those pictures did not do this building justice. As much as I hated it, as much as I hated all the evil that had come from this building and infiltrated my life, I couldn't help but admire it. It was made of bricks that were once white, but age and abandon had turned them grey and chipped parts away. There were hundreds of windows spaced evenly about the building; the ones at ground level were boarded up but every window higher were barred and the glass was broken. I'd expected grafiti to cake the exterior, but, with the exception of vines and other various aspects of nature, the building was spotless. I obviously wasn't the only one who respected the building; it seemed the only living thing with enough courage to penetrate it was Mother Nature.

“It's so big...” Mackenzie marveled, craning her neck to see the top.

“That's what she said!” Michael yelled, eliciting a snicker from Spencer.

Mackenzie was right though. The building had three main stories, a fourth floor attic, and at the top, above the main entrance, was a sixth story room complete with a steeple.

“That room at the top up there,” Spencer intoned, pointing to where we were all looking, “that was where they kept the sniper.”

“CORRECTION!” Nick and Mackenzie both yelled at the same time. “This was an asylum, NOT a prison!”

“Actually, you're wrong. This was a high security asylum, it was for those convicted of crimes who were found to have committed those crimes due to mental illness. This is worse than an old prison because it is an old prison for crazy people.”

“So...” Michael said after a long pause. “Are we going in or what?”

Spencer surveyed the building. “Let's look around back to see if we can find an easier way in,” he finally decided. The rest of the group followed him around the side but I remained rooted to the spot long after they'd gone. It's not real, I thought. No God, it can't be, please.

Nick must have realized I hadn't followed because he came back around the corner at that moment.

“Coming?” he asked.

I tore my eyes away from the steeple room. “Yeah,” I said, trying to convince myself that it was my imagination, that I hadn't in fact seen my father staring down at me from his former post.

***

“Hey, look who we found!” Spencer said as Nick and I went around behind the building.

“Andy,” I breathed, racing into his arms. I needed the familiarity of his hugs more than anything at that moment.

We broke apart and I looked around. “Where are Matt and Audrey? And who are you guys?” I asked,noticing that Scott was still here, and Shelby had come along, as well as two other girls I didn't recognize, but Matt and Audrey were nowhere to be seen.

“Coleman and Laundry bailed too!” Andy said, sounding angry.

I blanched, about to panic.

Recognizing the look on my face, Andy said, “Hey no, wait a second. Laundry lost her phone last night, right before they went to bed. You know how they “slept in” today? Well we went to pick up some extra matches from Shelby and when we came back they were gone, and so was MY phone! But Scott found Audrey's in the woods by the pee-hole we made. And look at this!”

He pulled out Audrey's phone and opened up the call log, clicking on a received entry that said
“Megan Martin.” The call was listed as thirty-eight minutes long.

“We figure Megan called Laundry while she was peeing, told her where they were and what they were doing, Laundry told Matt, and bam! They ditched us because their babies.” Andy said.

“But how did Shelby end up with us? And who are you guys?” Mackenzie asked. “No offense.”

“Well when we went to buy the matches we found Shelby there along with Hope and Gracie, that's Hope and that's Gracie, by the way.” Andy said, pointing at the girls. “Shelby mentioned that she was just getting off work and had plans to hang out with some girlfriends, and Scott and I just happened to mention that we were coming out here today, and they just happened to say that they had always wanted to come out here but they could never find it, so I just invited them along and here we are!”

“Yes, here we are,” Nick said, eying up Hope.

“And you know how I feel about guy-to-girl ratio's,” Andy muttered to me when the group returned to trying to find a way inside. “I like the odds to be in my favor...”

I stared back up to where I thought I'd seen my father moments before as Andy walked away, and I couldn't shake off that constricting feeling I had of being watched. “Me too,” I whispered so quietly that Andy couldn't hear. “Me too.”

***

"Wait for it...almost there...and...got it!" with a burst of energy Michael and Spencer pried the rusting bars off one of the first floor windows.

"High five!" Spencer said as Michael slapped his hand.

They turned around. "Now," Michael said ominously, "who goes first?"

Like a synchronized dance number in a Broadway musical, everyone turned to look at me. Gracie, however, apparently did not get the hint and looked around from person to person, trying to figure out who she was supposed to be looking at. She finally elbowed Hope and "whispered" in a voice that even the bodies in the hospital cemetery could hear, "Hope, HEY HOPE! What is everyone looking at?"

Hope whispered something to Gracie, who in turn said "OHHH!" and then turned to look at me as well.

I sighed and gave in. "Hey, I have an idea, how about I go first?"

"Brilliant!" Michael agreed.

I walked over to the window and surveyed the sill, looking for rusty nails. I could see a few in the upper corners and made a mental note to avoid standing up when I crawled in. "Flashlight please?" I asked Spencer, because the dim light outside failed to illuminate the room enough for me. He handed over the flashlight, and I shined it into the hospital room.

"What do you see?" Andy asked eagerly as I looked around the room.

"It seems to be a common room, a place for the patients who were better bahaved to come hang out during the day. The ceiling is very high, and the space is open. There are four couches, all covered in white sheets. There are double doors in the far left corner. There is a stage at the front of the room, and a podium near the front of that. Maybe this was a church of sorts," I said.

"Well waht are you waiting for?" Spencer asked. "Get your butt in there!"

I took a deep breath, hoisted myself up so I was sitting on the sill, swung my legs over the threshold and dropped catlike into the room.

The dust was incredible; as soon as my feet hit the ground the dust blew up in a cloud, I coughed as Mackenzie climbed into the room as well.

"If this was a church, would it kill God to dust?" She asked, coughing as well.

One by one, the rest of the group climbed into the room, but I ignored them. Something on the wall caught my eye, and I walked over and cleared the dust off one of the frames. As I shined the light on it, I realized it was a picture, a picture of the patients and the staff from the year the hospital opened. I dusted off more pictures, finding that they appeared in chronological order, all the way until...

"Hey! The pictures stop in 1975!" Nick complained. Apparently he had noticed the pictures as well. I about paniced. What if he saw, what if he made the connection? What if he figured it out?

"Spencer, what year did the hospital close down?" Nick asked.
"1979," Spencer answered.

I breathed a sigh of relief. There was no way Nick could figure it out. My father didn't start working there until 1976. There was no way his picture could be on the walls.

"But look," Nick said, shining his flashlight on the wall. "There isn't any dust here, here, here, or here! It looks like there were more pictures but they were taken down."

"I wonder why?" Spencer asked, looking at me strangely.

I know what you're thinking, Spencer noticed my panic and was curious as to why I was reacting that way, so you think he was looking at me to cast his suspicions, but that wasn't the look he gave me. It was more hostile, somehow. He grimaced a little and his eyes were very, very cold. He looked at me like he knew, not only everything I knew, but more.

But just as quickly as I noticed this look, it disappeared and Spencer went over to the wall to look at it with Nick.

Shake it off, I thought. You're just paranoid.

"Hey look!" Andy said, opening the french doors. "Unlocked."

"That or the locks are so old they just rusted off," Mackenzie said.

"Either way, shall we?"

I followed the group out of the room, paying careful attention to Spencer. He seemed normal now, like the moment that we had earlier hadn't existed. I had to have imagined it. But I couldn't shake the feeling that he knew. I couldn't shake the feeling that things were going terribly, terribly wrong.

***
We opened up the double doors and walked into the hallway. Stepping through the threshold I closed my eyes, allowing myself a moment of preparation for what I was about to do. Deep down, I had always known that I had to come here, even without the urgings of the social worker, and face this, but I had been putting it off. Who could blame me? If you had lived through my childhood, you wouldn't want to go back and face the demons either. But, as I knew full well, sometimes you don't have a choice.

***

"Which way should we go?" Andy asked. The hallway snaked both left and right, but we couldn't see where either direction went to.

"We shouldn't split up," I said. "This place is old and dangerous. We need to stay together to make sure no one gets hurt or lost."

"Baige is right," Mack said, "we need to stay together."

"So, which direction do we take?" Michael asked.

"Why don't we go to the right?" Spencer suggested.

"Why not?" Shelby agreed, and we proceeded down the right hallway.

We hadn't been walking very long when we came to what seemed to be a dead end.

"Nice suggestion, Spencer," Mackenzie jeered, "what a great destination you picked for us. We should turn back and go to the left."

"I don't think so," Spencer said, pushing open a door to his right. "Stairs."

"Up, up and away..." he said ominously.

I was beginning to feel that nagging feeling again. How had he known there would be stairs here? There aren't any blueprints of the hospital left, I knew that for a fact because my therapist had informed me of this in one of our many sessions. She was a big believer in visual therapy and demon confrontation. She thought that if I had access to the building where it all began the nightmares would stop. I'll never know if she was right or wrong though, because all the blueprints to the building had mysteriously disappeared in 1996. And was it my imagination, or did Spencer look right at me when he said "up, up and away..." with the same look I thought I had imagined earlier? I hurried to catch up with Mackenzie. Besides Andy, she was the one friend I trusted above all others.

"Hey, Mack," I whispered, "I need to ask you something." I looked back to see where everyone else was, and they were all a sufficient distance behind us. Mack and I were halfway up the stairs but everyone else was still at the first floor landing. It seemed as though they were looking for someone, but I didn't wait to see who. Most importantly, Spencer was still holding the door open, stuck behind everyone else.

"Yeah?" She whispered back.

"Do you think...do you think there's something going on with Spencer?"

"Like what?"

I pursed my lips, trying to choose my words carefully. "There's something weird going on with him. He knows things he shouldn't know, and he seems like he's hiding something from us."

She thought about it for a minute. "Yeah, I guess he has been acting a little weird, but it's Spencer. He's one of our best friends. If you can't trust him, who can you trust? I'm sure it'll be fine."

I said nothing. Her words, though well meant, did nothing to console me. In my experience, the ones closest to you deserved no more trust than a stranger you had never met. Just because someone was your friend, relative, or even your father, didn't mean they were safe. It didn't mean they wouldn't betray your trust. It didn't mean they wouldn't shatter your entire world into a thousand pieces.

"Come on ladies," a voice hissed, making me jump. I turned around and came face to face with Spencer. Mackenzie had jumped too, neither of us heard him come up from behind.

"Jesus, Spencer! You scared the crap out of me!" Mackenzie said, laughing, but Spencer wasn't paying her any attention. He was looking straight at me, with that look.

Mackenzie laughed and continued climbing the stairs. I turned to follow suit.

"You look frightened," he whispered in my ear. "You scare easily. Tonight should be fun."

And with that he turned away and walked up the stairs, leaving me frozen on the steps, wondering what he knew.

***