Chapter Twelve

By Daniel Hofmann

“Kim!”

            Shane flew to where his ex-girlfriend had landed hard on the cave floor. His hands went to cradle her head and he could feel the thick warmth of Kim’s blood mingle with the dirt on the ground.

            “Oh god, Kim! Wake up! Shit, please wake up!” he hissed in the dark.

            “She won’t wake up.”

            Shane whipped his head up to see Tate slinking out of the space craft in front of him. His pale face, ablaze with freckles, was grotesque in the light of the giant blue flame.

            “T- Tate,” Shane stuttered, “wha…How di…What are you doing here?” He understood nothing that was happening.

            “Shut up, Solomon. You don’t get to talk,” Tate dismissed Shane’s words with a lilt of his wrist as he stood up straight in front of the two teenagers on the ground. “Besides,” said Tate, “you’re finally going to get some answers to what’s been going on here these past few days, and I’d hate for your sad, erratic story to end here just because you couldn’t keep your trap shut.”

Shane opened his mouth, ready to spew a thousand curse words onto this gawky nerd in front of him, but Tate clenched his fist and a sudden pressure in Shane’s chest made it impossible for him to talk. Instead his mouth opened in a gasp. He sucked in all the air he could- which wasn’t much- thanks to the newfound weight upon his lungs.

            Tate knelt down right next to where Shane and the lifeless body of Kim were slumped against the cave wall. He extended a slender hand, uncomfortably pale and freckled as his face, and began to caress the brown hair off Kim’s face.

            “You probably think I’m crazy, don’t you?” Tate asked. Shane drew a shallow breath as he tried to drag Kim out of Tate’s reach. “It’s alright. If I’d shown up here like you did and had gone through what you have and was in the situation that you are, I’d be inclined to feel that way as well.” Tate smiled, his white teeth forming a stark crescent-shape in the dark cave. “But then again,” he said with his face right to Shane’s, “you were one who showed up here, so let’s just call ourselves Pot and Kettle and move on.” Tate stood up again, and Shane felt the pressure release from his chest.

            “Who the hell are you?” Shane asked, looking up at Tate with stars popping in and out of his vision.

            “I- that is to say, we-” Tate answered, “are Guardians.”

            Shane looked at the man in front of him, looking for a sign that he wasn’t being serious, but Tate’s expression wasn’t one of humor, but of pride.

            “Well, okay.” Shane said, “That’s not awful. Care to elaborate?”

            “Shane, you are in no position to be dishing out snark.” Tate snarled, his Cheshire grin turning instantly to a rectangle of bared teeth.

            Shane indented himself further into the cave wall. “Sorry! But damn, Tate. You mentioned answers and so far, I’ve just come up with a gazillion more questions! Who the hell are you? What is that thing you got out of? Why won’t Kim wake up? And a giant blue candle underground? Seriously?”

            Tate considered him for a moment. Shane prayed that he hadn’t just gone over the edge. I need to make it out of here, he thought, if not for me, at least for Kim. The blood from Kim’s head wound had by now crusted into her hair and onto Shane’s hands and clothes.

            “I suppose you’re right,” Tate said finally, “Let’s educate you on this little game you’ve stumbled into, pawn.” Shane shot Tate a look of disgust, and Tate grinned wide again. He sat down at Kim’s feet and began to talk.

            “This place, this camp we’re in, is special. It’s been around for thousands of years, but not always in the same place. People who come here are all looking for something.”

            “Let me guess: peace?”

            “Mmm yes…and no. Peace is what people seek here, but not peace in the conventional sense. No one comes here looking for happiness or tranquility. They come for completion. Absolution. This place makes them all they were ever supposed to be. And it only calls out to those looking for it.”

            Shane’s mind was buzzing so fast he felt it in his eyes. “So, that’s why I noticed the flyer?” Tate was obviously having too much fun stringing Shane along to give him anything more than a shrug of his shoulders as an answer. “Ugh,” Shane sighed, “fine. Continue, please.”

            Tate waited a beat, then obliged. “As you can guess, a place like this, like any camp, needs people to run it. That’s me. And Brightlee and Keah. Together, we are the Guardians of Camp Peace. We’ve been with this place for many years, travelling with it from place to place, taking in people along the way, and infusing their lives with meaning.”

            “But what does that have to do with me? I wasn’t looking for any of that.” Shane sputtered. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

            “You may not think you were, but sometimes this place knows you better than you know yourself, Shane. In that way, you’re just like every sad-sack soul who mopes through here. But you’re also different, as is that bleeding lump of low self-esteem you seem to care so much for.”

            “What the f-” Shane was prepared to kill Tate by now, but with another clench of his fist, Tate stole all the air from Shane’s lungs again.

            “The camp’s last location before it decided to materialize in the-middle-of-effing-nowhere, Texas, was none other than Salem, Massachusetts. Which I believe is where you and your friend here saw Keah in this.” Tate motioned to the space craft behind him. “It’s our vehicle of sorts. Camp Peace exists on a whole other plane, and this thing lets us cross between camp and the rest of the world without trouble. Usually, we are unseen by the milling public, but you and Kim noticed Keah.

            It’s not really a surprise, though, as she and Brightlee have become far too cavalier with their abilities of late. But what happened happened.”

            “What…happened?” Shane wheezed, still constricted.

            “YOU!” Tate bellowed, “Have you not been listening? You and Kim happened!”

            “But w-wait,” Shane gasped, “you said the camp calls out to people all the time…what’s so special about us?”

            “Trust me, kid, I am right there with you on that one,” Tate sneered, “The camp does call out to people, but never twice. You and Kim were touched by Camp Peace once in Salem and again here in Texas. Never- never- has that happened. Which led us to believe there was something special about the two of you.” Tate was now standing over Shane and Kim, blocking the light of the giant candle behind him.

            “But Brightlee and Keah both told us that we shouldn’t be here! What was that about?”

            “Brightlee and Keah are weak. They want to protect you. You see, when you first appeared on our radar, we looked you up, and found out who you are.”

            “…and who,” Shane glared at Tate, “am I exactly?”

            “You are a Solomon, Shane. You are born of the bloodline that created this place. You are Camp Peace.”

            “What?” Shane breathed, “I- I don’t understand. What does that mean?”

            “What it means is that you and this place are inextricably bound. The camp is tied to you, which means you can do everything it does, but you needed to be here before your abilities could take shape.”

            “Then why did Brightlee and Keah not want me here if you did?”

            “Brightlee and Keah and I haven’t seen eye to eye for a few years now. They want to protect this place. I want to harness it. Too long has it directed our paths. It is time that its power was reined by a worthy master. To do that, we needed you.”

            “We?” Shane coughed through his growing fears, “but you just said Keah and Brightlee are against all this. Who are you working with?” He clutched Kim for support, and silently begged her to wake up.

            “Me.”

            Shane and Tate both jumped and looked far across the cave, to the other side of the giant blue flame. Standing there was a man, taller than Tate, but probably just as sickly thin, with beady, sunken eyes and a nose that looked five time broken in the same place. He had not one hair on his head, but his extreme eyebrows alone could have sufficed as a hairpiece. He looked across at Tate and Shane and smiled yellow.

            Tate released a sigh of contentment. “Doctor! Thank goodness you’re here! Waiting was tedious, but we had fun anyway, didn’t we, Shane?” He clenched his fist again and Shane sunk further onto the ground, catching his breath. Tate approached the other man and went in for a jovial handshake.

            “Quick, boy!” The man shouted at Tate, “We don’t have time for any more of your playing with your food! Get the girl and go! The others are on their way!” He slapped Tate across the face and pointed at Kim.

            “NO!” Shane screamed, finally with full lungs again, as Tate closed in on him. “You can’t take her!”

            “Solomon, don’t make me kill you!” Tate growled.

            “You want her, you’ll have to kill me!” Shane jumped to his feet, ready to lunge. Tate raised both his arms above his head, preparing to strike, but-

            “NO TATE!” The man said, “One must be alive! Come- Oh, hell!”

            An ear-splitting scream cracked the darkness around them. Shane ducked down, his bloodstained hands over his ears and eyes screwed shut against the noise. When he looked up again, Brightlee and Keah were standing next to him.

            “What th-” Shane was cut short by Brightlee shoving him behind her and Keah.

            “GUSTAFSON!” the two girls shouted together, “YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE!” They each raised their left hand and began chanting something Shane couldn’t make out.

            “Doctor!” All of a sudden, Tate was beside Gustafson, Kim’s limp form over his shoulder. Shane screamed, but found he couldn’t move. “We must leave now!” Shane heard Tate say over the chanting girls.

            Keah and Brightlee were advancing on the two men quickly, but their chanting only seemed to be affecting the doctor. He had begun moving slowly, and by the light of the blue flame, Shane could see that his eyes were unfocused and glazed over. As he struggled to break free of whatever was holding him down, Shane watched Tate throw Kim in the metal ship and yank the doctor by the arm inside as well. Keah and Brightlee stopped chanting and began gesturing wildly and speaking more gibberish, but this time not in unison. As Tate powered up the ship with a touch of his finger, the blue flame on the huge candle erupted into a blaze and began working its way toward him and his passengers.

            “NO! KIM’S IN THERE!” Shane shouted, tears streaming down his dirty face, but by all accounts, he went unheard.

            The cave started to shake as the ship gained power and the blue embers overtook everything. Just before the ship disappeared, Shane and Tate made eye contact.

In that instance, everything seemed to freeze. Tate’s Cheshire grin was back, evil as ever. Like strings on a puppet, Shane could feel Tate pulling his gaze to the back of the craft, where Gustafson, no longer affected by the girls, had Kim draped over a seat. Shane, still frozen in time, saw the blade the doctor had withdrawn from his pocket. He watched the reflection of the blue blaze dance as Gustafson brought the knife up over his head, and watched as they were extinguished as the knife entered Kim’s abdomen, more of her blood releasing everywhere.

As time sped up again, Shane let out an almighty roar, wrenched himself free of whatever power had bound him and lunged at the space where the ship had been.

           

He hit the floor of the cave and woke up in his bed in Salem the next morning.