Shadow Lake Vampire Society: The Vision

by Wendi Wilson

  “I really am sorry,” I said, setting the remains of my brownie back onto the plate. “I don’t mean to impose. I wasn’t thinking straight—”

  “Piper, stop,” she said, her firm voice cutting off my guilty words as her amber gaze bore into me. “I told you it was fine. I’ve been seeing you for over a year, and you’ve never once come by unannounced, seen me outside our regular weekly sessions, or even called me to talk something through. You are a model patient. Please stop worrying.”

  I nodded, not trusting my tongue to agree without more apologies. I finished off my brownies and chugged half the milk before she spoke again.

  “I have to say, I am curious about what brought you to my doorstep despite your obvious discomfort at dropping by with no word.” She smiled, showing lots of pearly-white teeth, and I couldn’t fight it when my own lips quirked up at the corners.

  “Mom told me about the summer job at Camp Shadow Lake,” I said.

  “And you dismissed it immediately,” she replied, her head cocked to the side. At my questioning gaze, she explained, “Your mom texted me.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. Mom texted Dr. Whitley? How often did that happen? Were they old friends now, or what?

  I brushed off the questions. The answers didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was Mom was worried enough to conspire with my therapist over me. I was causing her stress, and I was done being an emotional burden.

  No more. Dad was gone and obsessing over “that night” wasn’t going to bring him back. It would only ruin the rest of my life, which would ruin Mom’s.

  It was time for me to step out of my comfort zone and get back to the business of living.

  “Well, I changed my mind. Sign me up, Doc. I’m going to summer camp.

  Chapter Four

  Despite the soothing hum of Mom’s car tires on the pavement, I was a nervous wreck as we drove to Camp Shadow Lake. I’d felt very brave and spontaneous when I’d told Dr. Whitely and Mom that I’d go. I wasn’t feeling so courageous this morning.

  To give my fidgety hands something to do, I pulled out my phone and opened up each social media app, scrolling mindlessly through them again. I’d already watched all of Coco’s videos and play-by-plays of the three remaining senior challenges. The American Gladiator style battle over a pit of ankle-deep water looked fun, but the forest scavenger hunt with hidden super-soaker gunmen definitely did not. And the last event, the murky lake swim challenge that ended in a huge beach party seemed like the opening to a horror flick, so I was glad I’d had too much packing to do to attend.

  I scrolled through Coco’s pics and videos until I found my favorite, the one of us at graduation in our caps and gowns. Her grin was so large her eyes had turned into mere slits. I had one arm thrown around her shoulder while the other tossed my cap into the air. It could’ve been an ad for a magazine, it was that perfect. We both looked so happy and carefree. God, I was going to miss her so much.

  “You okay, bug?” Mom turned down her audiobook and glanced at me.

  “Sure. Yes.”

  “I bet Coco is going to miss you like crazy.”

  “Yeah.” A lump formed in my throat, making it hard to give more than monosyllabic answers.

  “I’m going to miss you like crazy, too. Who will eat all my yogurt and use all the toilet paper up without replacing the roll?” She reached over and shook my knee.

  “Ha ha. You’ll miss my sulking and all that weird Sci-fi I force you to watch.”

  “You're right. I’ll have to watch reality TV all alone. It’s going to be a rough summer.” Mom winked before turning her eyes back to the tree-lined road.

  She was being lighthearted for my sake, but I did worry about her. After Dad died, it had only been us two, though I wasn’t the best company. She’d never gone on a single date, not that I knew of, anyway. Maybe with me out of the house, she’d actually give it a try. That thought brought up another swirl of emotions I wasn’t sure I could handle.

  I didn’t want another dad. The hole he left couldn’t be filled with some guy Mom met online.

  Gross.

  Always uncomfortable with long silences, Mom brought up another topic. “So, when we get there, you’ll meet with the director. His name is Charles Purty.”

  “Charlie Purty?” I barked out a laugh at the ridiculous name.

  “Charles,” Mom corrected, giving me a pointed look. “I hear he doesn’t like Charlie. Or Chuck.”

  “What kind of guy is he?” I picked at the strings hanging off of my jean shorts with nervous fingers.

  “Nice, I’m sure. You don’t get to be the head of a camp for underprivileged children by being a jerk.”

  “Hmm.” I would reserve judgement on that until later.

  “You’ll be assigned a cabin with one other female counselor and ten to fifteen campers. They’ve put you with the thirteen-year-olds since it’s your first time.”

  I nearly choked on my own spit. “Thirteen-year-olds? I thought I’d be with kids a little younger. Did you wait to tell me this until we were already in the car halfway there?”

  Mom gripped the steering wheel and didn’t meet my gaze. She’d known what she was doing, all right. “It’ll be fine. The kids will be great. You were quite sweet as a thirteen-year-old.”

  I shot her a look. “Like when I stole your credit card to buy that cell phone case online? I was thirteen then.”

  “Oh, yeah.” She went quiet, the road noise filling in the silence for us.

  A sign reading “Camp Shadow Lake Next Exit” took my anxiety to the next level.

  My stomach clenched like a fist.

  She followed the signs and turned down a long driveway lined with some of the tallest pines I’d ever seen. Beneath their branches, ferns grew and birds flitted about, their song filtering through the open car windows. This place was beautiful and serene. I inhaled the smell of loamy earth and conifer needles, letting it settle my spirit.

  It would all be okay. I was ready. I could do this.

  The camp entrance came into view, a wooden arch over the road that read “Camp Shadow Lake” in bold letters. Behind it, the trees pulled back and several large log cabins appeared on the left while a baseball field stretched out on the right.

  Sports. Yay.

  Mom puttered through, stopping when a group of seven teenagers strolled across the drive. I sized them up from behind my dark sunglasses. Four girls and three guys, all young and beautiful, acting as if they didn’t have a care in the world. While I watched, one of the girls pushed a guy flirtatiously, and he responded by snatching her hat and running off with it. She howled and darted after him.

  Summer romance. That was one of the reasons counselors worked at these camps, right? Did I have any romantic notions? I hadn’t exactly dated since my dad’s death and the subsequent fallout. Still, I scanned the remaining guys, not feeling any spark.

  Then, he crossed our path.

  He was the most beautiful person I’d ever seen⁠—tall and broad with a chiseled body and dark hair and eyebrows that contrasted with his surprisingly pale skin. My breath caught as I took in his sculpted physique and angular jawline. No one working at a kids’ summer camp was supposed to be this glamorous, right? He could’ve been a movie star or model, so what was he doing here?

  His eyes darted toward us, locking onto mine with laser focus. An explosion of butterflies flitted around my stomach, and my mouth went dry. I felt trapped and set free at the same time. Did he know I was staring at him through my tinted sunglasses?

  The deep frown that settled over his perfect features seemed to indicate that he might. Was that anger? Impatience? Revulsion?

  He turned on his heel and stalked back the other way, shaking his head. I stared after him, confused.

  Shit. What had I done to piss him off like that? Was just the sight of me so disgusting?

  Mom began to mutter as she pulled into a parking spot, obviously having noticed the guy’s strange behavior. “I’m sure
the other counselors are much friendlier.”

  The ice cold finger running down my spine wasn’t so sure. I’d only seen the parking lot, and I was already feeling some bad juju in this place.

  We stepped out of the car and into the sunshine, our feet crunching on gravel as we walked up the stairs to the camp office. It was another dingy wood building⁠—this whole place would go up like a pack of matches, it was so combustible⁠. The sign out front said “Camp Office,” in case there was any doubt.

  “Original,” I muttered, garnering an elbow jab from Mom.

  “Hello?” she called, peering around the screen door. “Piper Williams is here for registration.”

  It was then I realized I should have insisted she wait in the car.

  “I can handle it from here, Mom,” I said as I stepped around her and into the office.

  “Good,” a voice called out as a lean shadow appeared down the hall. “We like our counselors to be independent self-starters. You’re one of those, aren’t you, Miss Williams?”

  The man walking toward me had to be Charles Purty. His presence and deep voice were commanding without being harsh. He appeared to be in his forties or fifties, with trim salt-and-pepper hair and chestnut brown skin. Ebony eyes sized me up while he pursed his lips and asked, “Your mother told my staff a lot about you over the phone, but I have to ask, do you have any camp experience, Miss Williams?”

  I swallowed hard before answering. “I sometimes went camping with my… dad.”

  I heard Mom inhale nervously behind me. Had she told Mr. Purty what happened to Dad? Either way, I didn’t want her bringing it up now. Without turning, I waved her off, hoping she’d get the hint and let me do this on my own. The door creaked, and I heard her footsteps on the gravel as she headed back out to the car.

  “Ah, yes. Your father was a camp counselor here many years ago. Quite a valued employee, I hear. I’m happy to have such a distinguished family back on the grounds.” He offered me a fatherly smile, one I gladly accepted.

  “Did you... know my father?” I asked, my voice shaking.

  He dropped his eyes to the desk he stood behind. “No. This is only my second year as Camp Dean. But from the stories I’ve heard from the other staff, it sounds like I would have liked him very much.”

  “Thanks,” I said, swallowing down so much emotion, I worried I would choke on it. “I’m happy to be here. I plan on going to school to become a teacher, so working with children is right up my alley. I know CPR, first aid, and took classes in early childhood education. I also have a ton of babysitting experience.”

  I clasped my hands behind my back so they wouldn’t shake. Suddenly, I worried this was all for nothing, and Charles Purty would tell me I was unqualified and ask me to leave. I really didn’t want that to happen, not after all it had taken just to get me here.

  Charles tapped the desk with two fingers. “This job will certainly pad your resume. The children here are… They will challenge you. Are you up for the challenge, Miss Williams?”

  “You can call me Piper. And, yes, sir. I’m up for it.”

  Was I?

  “You have three days of counselor orientation until the campers arrive, but please remember you’re still on the clock. No funny business.” He waggled a finger. “The training you will receive is extremely important and should be taken seriously.”

  I held up my hands. “No funny business. You can count on me.”

  “Good. Have your mother drive your things to cabin seven. The sign out front says, Saka'am. Your partner should be there to meet you.” He offered me a paper trifold map.

  Having survived my first interaction with my boss without completely embarrassing myself, I backed out of the office and high-tailed it to the car.

  Mom stared at me as I slid into the passenger seat. “See? Nice, right?”

  I blew out my breath. “So far, yes. We need to take my things to the cabin.” I opened up the trifold and showed her the cabin on the cartoonishly drawn map.

  My cabin, Saka’am, looked like all the rest of the buildings, an ancient log rectangle sporting a slanted green roof with the door thrown open despite the bugs. I walked up the steps and peered inside. Rows of metal bunks lined each wall with built-in cubbies running down the center for personal belongings. Stepping inside, I lifted one thin, musty mattress and sighed. If the bugs didn’t get me, the mattresses might. My so-called partner was not here after all.

  “You’re going to have so much fun here,” Mom said as she rolled in my suitcase and set it at the foot of the bed.

  I thought she was joking, but when I turned around, her face beamed with a special kind of nostalgia that let me know she was being genuine. She really thought I’d have the time of my life.

  I glanced around the room, trying to see it with new eyes.

  Everything seemed dingy and dusty until I looked up. On the ceiling, hundreds of names were written in different fonts and different colors, some faded by time, some new. Each marked a child or counselor that had spent time here. Each was a life that was changed, made better, given something special—time to be a kid.

  “Yeah,” I said, smiling for the first time since we arrived. “I think I’m going to have a great time.”

  Together, we hauled the rest of my stuff out of the car, made my bed, and arranged my things in the cubby. I had to admit, with a little elbow grease, my nook didn’t look half bad.

  As we walked back to her car, I gave her one last hug. I snuggled into her warmth, knowing this would be the last time for a while. “Thanks for pushing me out of the nest. I needed it.”

  Her lip quivered and, for once, my mother looked as if she were about to cry. “You’re welcome, little bug. Have the best summer of your life.”

  I stood on the step and watched her pull away, staring until I could no longer see taillights.

  As my eyes traveled across the road, all the good feelings drained from my chest.

  Hiding in the darkness of tree cover, the guy I saw before was watching me.

  When he spotted me looking, he darted back behind a tree trunk, but it was too late. I’d seen the look on his face.

  A look that told me I hadn’t been mistaken. For some unknown reason, this beautiful, strange boy hated me on sight, and I would need to watch my back.

  Chapter Five

  I lay on my bed, staring at the bottom of the bunk above me as I thought about the dark-headed boy with the bad attitude. Anger quickly overpowered the other emotions swirling in my gut, and I sat up with a huff.

  Who was he to judge and find me lacking? Sure, he was gorgeous, with his dumb, perfect body and his even dumber, flawless face. But that stuff was skin-deep. It had no bearing on who he was.

  And I knew who—or what—he was. He was an asshat, if you asked me. Clearly, it was my first day, and rather than make a new, fellow counselor feel welcomed and comfortable, he’d stooped to outright rudeness and weirdly creeping on me from the woods. Stalker, much?

  I wonder what color his eyes are, I thought, then shook my head in disgust. I shouldn’t be thinking about him at all, much less daydreaming about his hate-filled eyes.

  I ran a hand through my dark brown tresses, finger-combing the tangles out. It gave me something to concentrate on rather than Mr. Rude Stalker. Just as I finished, the door to Saka’am flew open and banged against the inner wall, scaring the piss out of me.

  A whirlwind of energy flew through the doorway, skidding to a halt in front of me. The girl was breathing hard, her chest rising and falling with the effort.

  “Hi, you must be Piper. Sorry I’m late,” she huffed out between harsh breaths. “I had to run all the way here from the lake.”

  I remember seeing the lake on the map. It didn’t seem like it was that far away, but I wasn’t going to say that out loud. I wanted… no, needed this introduction to go well. I would be spending all summer working with this girl, and it would be so much better if I didn’t make her hate me right off the bat.

 
; Kind of like that boy…

  I shook off the errant thought and jumped to my feet. Giving her what I hoped was a bright smile and not something bordering on psychotic, I said, “Yes, I’m Piper. It’s nice to meet you.”

  She threw up two brown fingers in a peace sign as she shook her black, tight curls out of her face. “I’m True. True King.”

  The urge to question her name was insistent on my tongue, but True’s arched brow and expectant expression made me bite the words back. When I just smiled and nodded, her features softened with relief.

  “I know,” she said, shrugging as she sat down on my bunk. “My parents had a seriously messed up sense of humor. Who names their kid True King? Especially their female kid? Though, I guess if I were a boy, it would be way more pretentious. Anyway, thanks for not laughing.”

  I sat down beside her and stared into her dark eyes rimmed with thick lashes. “I think it’s an awesome name.”

  She smiled, leaning back and bracing herself with her arm stretched out behind her.

  “So, Piper Williams, who are you, really?”

  “What do you mean?” I stuttered, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

  “Well, Camp Shadow Lake is a haven for the lonely, messed-up dregs of society. The kids are mostly homeless, orphaned, or both, and the counselors are teenage mental cases in need of a break from reality.”

  “I am not a mental case,” I breathed, feeling my hackles rise.

  “Whoa. Sorry,” she said, shooting upright and lifting her palms toward me. “I was joking. Well, sort of. What I meant was, we all have something—some tragedy or downfall—we’re working through. My parents died in a car accident three summers ago. I had to move in with my uncle who knows more about whiskey and bourbon than he does about raising a teenage girl. He found this place online and got me the job here last summer. Two glorious months without me.”

  “I—I’m sorry for your loss,” I muttered, then cringed at the words.