Camp Wacko: The Drones of Summer

by Faith Wilkins

  “Are you threatening us?” my mom demanded, incredulous.

  The agent shrugged. “It doesn’t have to be a threat. The job of a CIO can be very…stressful. A slight decline in management would be all it took to bring a whole company down. We need Lily to assist in this operation. Not allowing her to do so would not be a wise decision, Mrs. Mason.” He glanced at his watch, standing up. “Lily, you were given forty-eight hours. Correct?”

  I glared back at him. “Yes.” “You have five to come up with a final decision on whether you are going to help us or not. Cooperating with us is the only way we will be able to help you. Otherwise, I’m afraid you will be on your own.” He turned to leave. “You know how to contact us. I suggest you use your time wisely.”

  Six hours later, I found myself sitting in the back of a tricked-out van with an odd contraption hovering over my arm. The man holding it looked grim as he rubbed a patch of my skin with alcohol-soaked gauze, as if preparing the area for a needle. That thing in his hand sure didn’t look like the hypodermic you see when you’re about to get your everyday shot from the doctor.

  “Is this really necessary? Just what is that thing?” my mother demanded to know, arms folded as she watched the man warily.

  “It’s a tracking device. Very tiny. Nearly impossible to see with the naked eye. But it must be inserted right below the skin.” Agent Cooper leaned forward out of the shadows. “And yes, for your daughter’s safety, it is very necessary.”

  I glanced over at the two sophisticated computer systems to the right of us. As we spoke, people sat in front of them on benches built into the floor. With headsets and determined expressions, they seemed engrossed in whatever was on the screen.

  “Is that how you’re going to track me?” I asked, nodding in the direction of the computers.

  Without warning, I felt a sharp pain on my arm. Letting out a yelp, I glanced down to find an angry red patch on my upper arm, just below my shoulder.

  “A warning would have been nice,” I muttered, wincing at the pain.

  The man shrugged. “Sorry. There may be some irritation of the area for the first few days.”

  I rolled my sleeve back down. “Great, thanks.”

  “What if this Dr. Wackerson finds out Lily is helping you?” Mom kept a steady accusing gaze on the agent.

  He didn’t seem fazed in the least. “Then we pull her out. When she meets the boy, she will be wearing a hidden camera as well as a wire. We will be with her every step of the way.”

  Agent Cooper turned and opened the side door to the van, revealing an empty parking lot. Dusk had begun to fall, turning the sky into a life-sized canvas painting of orange and purple splashes of color. My time had almost run out.

  “I will be seeing you soon,” he said, stepping out of the van. He held out his hand to help my mom step down.

  She coolly refused his hand, hopping down from the van all on her own. “I should be suing you for blackmail.”

  Agent Cooper’s smile was a tight and humorless one. “That is a case you would lose, Mrs. Mason.”

  The air suddenly felt slightly cooler as my mother fixed him with one of her signature mom stares. You know, the one your mother gives you when you are in a heap of trouble. As the saying goes, if looks could kill…

  “Um, thank you for the help,” I blurted. “We’ll see you in a few hours.”

  I hopped down from the van to land right next to my mom.

  The FBI agent nodded, turning to go back in the vehicle.

  “No matter what you may think, you made the right decision.”

  The van doors closed and it silently slipped away; it was surprisingly smooth for such a chunky-looking vehicle. After watching it disappear into the night, Mom and I made our way back to our own car, arm in arm.

  Change of Plans

  AT AROUND FIVE in the morning of the next day, I stood in front of Cameron’s grave. Her gravestone was made of a beautiful mixture of marble and granite, engraved with cursive writing. Silently, I placed fresh flowers on the ground to accompany the bouquet of roses already wilting against the stone.

  There were so many things going on in my head, it was nearly impossible to form a single coherent thought. I kept thinking about my family. Last night, my parents had succeeded in convincing my siblings that I was going on a camping trip with some friends from out of town. They hadn’t completely succeeded. Although my little brothers seemed fine with this answer, my sister, Rose, was a little more skeptical. I couldn’t blame her. I usually told her everything and now I couldn’t tell her a thing. It was more than agonizing. And this morning the goodbye between me and my parents had been the worst. With my mother trying to hold back tears and my dad scooping me up in his arms like he used to when I was little, it all had felt so painfully final.

  “Wish me luck, Cam,” I whispered, placing a hand on my friend’s tombstone. It felt smooth and cold against my skin.

  “I thought you said you wanted me to come get you.”

  Taking a shaky breath, I stood up to face Dustin. I was suddenly highly aware of the wire snaking around my midsection and ending on my lower back, where a small recording device had been taped to my skin. Earlier that morning I had been given a crash course on how to remove and reattach the wire without it being noticeable. I just had to be careful to wear the right clothing. They had told me not to worry. As soon as I had acquired enough information to prove Dr. Wacko’s guilt, they would pull me out. Easy as pie. Ha. Yeah, right. I definitely had my doubts.

  “What, a girl can’t change her mind? The anxiety of going back was getting to me, so I decided to just leave. As soon as possible,” I answered simply, working to keep my voice steady.

  Dustin cocked his head, studying me for a second. “There’s something different about you.” He came a little closer, continuing to walk in a complete circle around me.

  I swallowed nervously. “Really? Maybe it’s the fact that I’m scared out of my mind right now. You know, about going back.”

  Still studying me, he shook his head. “No, that’s not it.”

  He paused, looking directly into my eyes now.

  I stared back, anxious to know what he was seeing. Was I really that bad of a liar?

  He raised an eyebrow. “New glasses?”

  Stifling a sigh of relief, I nodded. “Yep. Turns out I needed a stronger prescription.”

  Well, this wasn’t completely a lie. These glasses definitely had a very strong prescription. The thing was, they weren’t just any new pair of glasses. All around the rim of the frames were rhinestones. In reality, they were a bunch of tiny little cameras. There was also a listening device on the side of the frames, activated by a small button camouflaged within the pattern. I was supposed to use this device to talk to Agent Cooper only when no one else was around.

  “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” Feigning enthusiasm, I shrugged the small bag I had brought with me up higher on my shoulder.

  Dustin’s eyes lingered on Cameron’s grave for a few moments, before he slowly turned his focus back on me. “Yeah, let’s go.” Jaw clenched and shoulders hunched, he turned to leave the cemetery.

  “Interesting choice for a meeting spot,” he said softly as we made our way to the dark, sleek car waiting just outside the gates.

  “I wanted to say goodbye.”

  He didn’t really respond, already lost in his own thoughts. He did, however, offer to carry my bag for me. An offer I declined.

  As we moved closer to the car, I was surprised to find that it was a limousine. What was the occasion? Oh right, my kidnapping.

  The driver’s door opened and out came a tall stick of a man with graying hair and a very impressive mustache. He looked very sophisticated in a slimming black suit and bow tie, that signature chauffeur hat topping it off.

  “Are we all set to go, Mr. Wackerson?” he asked, holding the passenger door open for us. His voice was thick and rich, like chocolate pudding. It wasn’t what I had imagined his voi
ce to sound like at all.

  “Yes, thank you,” Dustin replied with a polite smile. Then he turned to me and said, “Ladies first.”

  I climbed inside with my arms crossed. He slid in next to me. My bag served as a silent barrier between us. I made sure to look around so the eyeglass cameras could take everything in. I couldn’t see how it would help the FBI crack this case, but it was a start.

  The passenger windows had a black tint that was so heavy that no one could see in, or out. Buttons of every shape lined the inside of the inner walls of the car. If this was a normal situation, I would be delighted to push every button and find out what they did. Instead, I kept my arms tightly crossed and stared straight ahead after I was finished taking a quick look around.

  Of course Dustin pressed a button, barely glancing at it. Who knows how many times he’d been in this limo—he probably knew it like the back of his hand. A spout and cup emerged from the wall with a mechanical whir. He pressed another button and the spout filled the cup with a yellowish liquid. He took it out, and then offered it to me. I stared at it with suspicious eyes.

  “It’s orange juice,” he explained.

  Still suspicious, I took the cup. I put it up to my nose. Hmm…it smelled like orange juice. With another quick sideways glance at Dustin, I took a tentative sip. Yep.

  Definitely orange juice. Nevertheless I was cautious. What if something had been put in the drink to sedate me or something? Setting the cup down, I decided not to take another sip. Better to be safe than sorry.

  “Oh for God’s sake, Lily.” Dustin sighed, filling another cup with orange juice. Keeping his eyes locked on mine, he gulped the whole thing down without stopping. “See? No poison. Just normal orange juice.”

  I simply shook my head, ignoring the drink altogether.

  He threw up his hands in exasperation. “Fine! Suit yourself.”

  Up front I could hear the driver chuckle a little. He tried to hide it by turning it into a cough.

  The ride went on in silence. I was tired, but I forced myself not to nod off. Since I needed to build up my strength, I eventually gave in and poured myself a fresh cup of orange juice, threw my head back and gulped the whole thing down. Dustin shot me a look but didn’t make a comment. Probably because the cold stare I shot back warned him of the danger of doing so.

  Without warning, the limo came to an abrupt halt.

  “This is our stop,” said Dustin.

  He got out of the limo and held out his hand to help me. Ignoring the irritatingly courteous gesture, I stepped out all by myself. He sure wasn’t making this easy. I wanted to be mad at him for putting me in this position again, for not living up to his promise. He was supposed to be done with his recruiting duties and I, well, I just shouldn’t be here.

  When I saw where we were, my heart felt like it had leaped into my throat, choking me. What I expected to be a mansion turned out to be an airport. It was completely deserted. Unlike any airport I had ever seen, there was only one plane on the entire airfield. It was too small to be a commercial plane. It was a real-life private jet! I had never seen one up close before. As we came closer I noticed that the Wackerson Academy logo had been written on the side: a W and A interlocked. They were in big blue block letters, shining against the bright white of the jet.

  A man in dark sunglasses and a black suit stood stiffly at the end of the gleaming flight of stairs leading up to the aircraft. Without a word he began to march up the steps, obviously expecting us to follow. Of course I didn’t have any say in the matter. I had no choice but to get on that plane, without knowing where we were going.

  Inside, the jet looked a little bigger than it had on the outside. There were six seats in total. Built-in tables were stationed in front of every seat. In the back of the jet, I spotted a small but fancy kitchen and bathroom.

  Following the suited guy’s orders, I sat down in one of the plush seats by a window. Dustin took a seat next to me. I glowered at him, eyes in slits. He got the message and moved to the seat behind. This wasn’t that much better, since he so kindly decided to put his knees up against the back of my seat.

  There were compartments to put luggage in, but I kept my bag close to me. A flight attendant came up to me with a cart of food. Thanking the woman, I chose an apple and a bagel. The pilot’s voice echoed through the prompter. We would be leaving in a few minutes. Next came the terrifying sound of the plane lifting off. I gripped the armrests with all my might. Breathing in and out at an abnormal rate, I squeezed my eyes shut. My stomach performed gymnastics as I felt us move off the ground.

  “Where are we going?” I hissed to Dustin once the noise had died down.

  He leaned forward, relieving my back. “Oh, so you’re talking to me now?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Yeah, I am. I have the right to know where we’re going.”

  He complied. “You’re right. We’re going to California.”

  I sharply sucked in my breath. California? Dustin explained that his dad had schools and camps all over the country. He wanted to make sure that I would be far away from my hometown so that I wouldn’t be able to get away so easily.

  I had to admit, Dustin’s father was slick. Now there was no easy way to escape. Even if I did manage to find a way to flee, I would be very far away from any familiar places or people. Everything would be strange and new. What was I going to do now? The man had me cornered.

  Taking a deep breath to calm myself down, I closed my eyes. I had to rely on the tracking device in my arm. At least the FBI would know where I was. I couldn’t forget the listening device either. As soon as I found the opportunity, I would try to contact Agent Cooper.

  Dustin got up from his seat and sat down next to me again. This time I didn’t even look at him. I just stared out the window, watching the hazy clouds, trying not to panic. I was so nervous I felt like I had supercharged butterflies in my stomach.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Dustin with his hand poised over my shoulder as if he intended to comfort me. Thinking better of it, he drew his hand back, using it to pick up a fork instead.

  “You should eat,” he commented, looking down at his plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and hash browns.

  Despite his advice, he didn’t make a move to eat anything.

  He just pushed it around with his fork, making abstract shapes with his food. There was something bothering him too. Come to think of it, he had been very quiet during that car ride as well.

  Cameron. The minute the name crossed my mind, I knew it was the reason.

  “You know, we never talked about it,” I muttered.

  Dustin’s eyes went up to glance at me, then quickly focused on his plate again. “About what?”

  “What happened to Cameron.” I watched as his fork quivered slightly, pausing for a second before continuing to turn his breakfast into artwork.

  “There’s nothing to talk about.” However, his voice cracked in the middle of his sentence, betraying him.

  “Dustin.” I placed a hand on his, stopping it from moving. “You know you can’t blame yourself, right?”

  Still, he did not directly look into my eyes. Instead, he appeared to focus on the window behind me. “I know.”

  We both knew he was lying, but neither of us said anything. Just stared at our untouched food.

  “You really should eat something,” he said after a while.

  I snorted. “I will when you do.”

  Dustin chuckled. “OK, fine.”

  Making sure he had my undivided attention, he began to eat, chewing with extra gusto.

  Rolling my eyes, I glanced down at the untouched food on my own table. Right now I was anything but hungry. My appetite had been lost the minute we had pushed off of the ground, but he was right. I had absolutely no idea what would be waiting for me in California. I needed the strength. So I took a bite of the bagel. To my surprise, I was ravenous. In a matter of minutes, my plate was empty.

  Dustin laughed. “Whoa. I don’t think I�
��ve ever seen anyone eat that fast before.”

  “You should see my dad,” I muttered, getting homesick already.

  He laughed again. I gave him a playful shove before turning my attention back to the window. As we went higher into the sky, cities and highways now seemed so small, they were merely simple shapes and lines. I was no longer able to distinguish cars or trucks or individual buildings, but people down there were going about the beginning of their day, oblivious to the kidnapping taking place right above their heads.

  “How long is this supposed to take?” I asked, lightly pressing my fingertips against the glass.

  “We should be there in about four and a half hours. This jet is super fast,” he answered sleepily.

  I turned my attention toward him. He had the seat reclining all the way back as a makeshift bed. His arms were crossed, eyes closed. On his left wrist was one of those expensive Gucci watches.

  I leaned in closer to take a look. Seven o’clock exactly. Mom would be getting the kids ready for their last day of school. I wondered if Agent Cooper had already told her that I was leaving the state. If he had been telling the truth about using those high-tech computers to track me, he had probably figured out I was on some kind of aircraft. Whatever suspicions he had would be confirmed once I talked to him.

  Trapped on a jet flying thousands of feet from the ground, there was no turning back. All I could do was grit my teeth and sit back as I flew farther and farther away from life as I knew it.

  Strange Encounter

  TURNS OUT DUSTIN had been right. We landed in California a little over four hours later. As we had earlier, we moved from one vehicle to the next quickly, deplaning and immediately getting into a limo. These windows were tinted inside and out as well, so I couldn’t even see where we were going. Dustin fidgeted with the dials until the whole limo shook with the sound of mindless pop music; he wanted to wake everyone up, I guess.