Day Twelve

When the CBers filed downstairs in twos and threes, ready for breakfast, they were met with a surprise. Director 1 stood on the raised central platform in the dining room, looking far too excited for someone who’d just had to send her colleague to an emergency hospital the day before.

“Everyone, pack a bag for today and tonight,” she announced. “We’re going camping!” This caused a stir; after all, not everyone enjoyed the outdoors. When Kitten protested that camping was no fun, due to mosquito bites and such, Director 1 waved her off, saying that she would find a way to make it fun.

“And besides, there will be no mosquitoes, because of the force field,” she added breezily, which triggered derisive snorts and eye-rolling from the crowd. There wasn’t supposed to be any murder, either, because of the force field, but somehow, they were down to just eight people, when they had started with fifteen. And the unlucky seven certainly hadn’t just dropped dead of their own accord.

Director 1 sent them off to their rooms to pack, but Leo was distraught at the thought of packing.

“I don’t know what to bring!” she exclaimed, looking at her tiny backpack in despair. “I can’t fit my computer and my camera and my journal and my writing stuff and all my books!” She looked to Theatergirl for help, but the CBer was busy shoving things in her own backpack.

“Just stuff in as much stuff as you can,” she suggested, not unkindly. “Here, I’ll help you. I’m a master shover.” She smiled.

With Theatergirl’s help, Leo soon had a heavy and unwieldy backpack, but at least she didn’t have to leave anything behind. The girls walked downstairs to where the rest of the group was waiting, each with their own backpack. They waited for some twenty minutes before Director 1 speed-walked in.

“What are you waiting for? We don’t have all day!” she declared. The CBers shrugged and followed her, choosing not to point out that she was the one making them wait.

They hiked out of the mansion and into the woods surrounding the property. There was a well-defined trail, so everyone could see where they were going, although there were still quite a few who stumbled on roots in the path. The hike wasn’t overly long, so they got to the campsite after minimal whining and complaining. In fact, there was a lot of gasping; as the CBers crested the ridge to the campsite, their eyes widened with delight.

A waterfall fell from a low cliff above them, sending a cascade of sparkles toward the stream bed below. Beneath the waterfall, worn away by the rock, was a cave that gaped darkly from the cliffside. Director 1 gestured grandly toward the entrance.

“Welcome to the campsite!” she declared. Fleet gasped with wonder and ran ahead, closely followed by Theatergirl. Even Gale and Nymph found themselves enchanted by the site. Something about the scenery made even the most sarcastic and unsmiling AEs grin, though they tried to cover it up. Barnswallow noticed their hesitation.

“Go ahead and enjoy it!” she said with a laugh. And with a shrug and a shared glance, the AEs raced ahead, determined to stake their territory in exploring the cave.

Unfortunately, someone else had gotten there first.

“I claim this cave!” shouted Fleet, standing on a small boulder near the entrance. “Since it is my discovery, I shall name it… Cave Fleet!” Gale rolled her eyes and imitated Fleet’s posture, then began mocking her in a high, babyish voice.

“I claim this cave as Cave Fleet!” she mimicked. The real Fleet shot her a glare, but Gale ignored it. Nymph chuckled at the AE’s audacity.

“All right. That’s enough with the antics,” Director 1 chided from the entrance. “In fact, I discovered this cave before any of you, so if anything, you should call it ‘Cave Director 1.’”

“Definitely not,” Fleet countered, sitting down and sliding off the boulder. “That has, like, no ring to it.” Gale found she had to agree.

“Anyway, you don’t have to just explore the cave,” Director 1 continued. “There are frisbees, soccer balls, and other devices involved with sports. However, if you don’t find enjoyment in such things, I have provided colored pencils and sketchbooks, for those more artistically minded of you.” She placed a cardboard box of sketchbooks and drawing utensils on the ground, which the group immediately swarmed, leaving the sports equipment virtually untouched.

For the rest of the morning, the CBers sketched, occasionally breaking out into quiet conversation. Lunch was a typical meal of sandwiches, which were acceptable at best. Director 1 was clearly not an accomplished cook, though no one dared say so out loud.

The afternoon flew by, as the group continued doodling, or took it upon themselves to get some exercise in the woods nearby. Gale, after finishing a rather excellent drawing of Kitten (albeit a candid one without her permission) stood up and stretched.

“I’m going for a walk. Care to join me?” she offered to Nymph, who shook her head. Being in the form of a chihuahua, she grabbed a pencil between her teeth and wrote, “I’m trying to see how many different animals I can be while drawing.”

“Suit yourself.” Gale strode out of the cave, intending to explore the woods intensely before it grew dark.

Not far off from the cave with the waterfall, she found a small clearing. That wasn’t very odd; one would expect a forest like this to have dozens of clearings. What was odd about this one was that it had a cabin in the center. More of a shack, really. Gale drew closer, and was surprised to hear voices coming from it.

“I think this one connects here… Ow! I got shocked!” Gale started. The voice was Maggie’s.

“Next time, try not sticking your finger out near the port,” commented another voice, this one unfamiliar.

“You try dealing with weird hardware some time,” Maggie shot back. Then, “There, I think this one works. How are the other ones coming?”

“I think we’re decently close to fixing the field!” responded a voice, this one sounding like Joe.

Fixing the field…

Gale gasped loudly, and the voices quieted.

“Did you hear something?”

“It sounded like someone!”

“What do we do?”

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the woods on the other side and strode toward the cabin. Without hesitating, it typed in a code and swung open the door as Gale stood frozen in the center of the clearing. A scream floated out from the open door, followed by several more, a few seconds later. Hinges creaked as the door swung open.

The figure turned, and Gale caught sight of her face.

But in that moment, she was also seen.

“You!” the girl snarled, racing toward her. “I should’ve known you’d turn up!” Before Gale could even think to scream for help, the girl clapped a hand over her mouth and drove a dagger into her heart.

Nothing else.