Chapter 15 Joel
JOEL
The light fades quickly under the canopy of the forest. One by one, phone flashlights blink on. Outside of their narrow spheres of light, the path is dark, and the undergrowth closes in. The students’ chatter dies down and the atmosphere shifts.
It’s with relief that we emerge from the trees into an inky twilight surrounding Pine Creek Camp. The lights in the hall are on, and the smell of cooking meat wafts through the air.
There’s relief on the faces of the students and also triumph. The walk was an unexpected adventure, and now the chatter picks up as they file into the hall. The students slump into chairs dispersed in groups around the tables.
I enter last and find Brooke turning slowly, a worried expression on her face.
“Where’s Justin?” she says sharply.
The kids stop talking as everyone glances around. She strides toward a group of boys at a round table, the friends he’s most often with. “Was Justin with you?”
One of them shrugs. “He kept stopping to film.”
“Did you see him come back to camp?” Brooke’s body is tense, but she keeps her voice casual, not wanting to alarm the boys.
The boy shrugs. “I couldn’t see anything.”
“He might have gone to pee,” one of them adds hopefully.
I catch Brooke’s worried expression. “I’ll go check.”
I jog to the toilet block in the middle of camp. It’s empty. I check the cabins, calling Justin’s name. But all is silent.
By the time I get back to the hall, he’s still not there. Brooke meets me at the door, the strain in her features apparent. Behind her, the students are silent, and the group of boys follows her to the door.
I meet her gaze and give a slight shake of my head. I don’t want to say out loud what I’m thinking in front of Justin’s friends: that he’s missing.
“His phone is going straight to voicemail,” says one of his friends in a worried voice.
Brooke holds my gaze before composing her features into a neutral expression and turning to the boys.
“He must be out filming still,” she says, her voice steady. “Can you tell me exactly when you last saw him?”
“He was filming for most of the walk,” says one of the boys, Ethan. “Even when it got dark, he put his phone light on the camera. He said it looked cool like that. It made it look spooky.”
“And when was that?” asks Brooke. “How close were we to getting back?”
“It was when we all put our lights on, about twenty minutes ago.” He looks around at the other boys, and they all nod.
“Is he missing?” One of them asks.
Brooke puts on a reassuring smile. “Like you say, he’s probably caught up filming. He’ll turn up any minute.”
“What if he doesn’t?” asks a small boy.
“And miss dinner?” I cut in. I’m better at putting on a calm face than Brooke. “I doubt it. You boys better get in line, or there won’t be any left.”
I indicate the room behind us where the kitchen staff have put the food out and the other students are lining up to get their dinner.
The boys head off to join the line. As soon as they’re out of earshot, Brooke turns to me.
Her expression is tense, and there are worried lines creasing her brow. “I’m worried.”
“I know.” I long to cup her face in my hands, to smooth the worry lines off her features. I settle for putting my hands on her shoulders, hoping to steady her.
“You keep the kids occupied. I’ll rally the staff, and we’ll go find him.”
“He must have strayed off the path somewhere.” Her hand flutters to her chest. “What if something’s happened to him? What if there’s a bear, or a bobcat?”
“Then he’ll probably try to interview it.” I try to make a joke, but it doesn’t land.
“I’ll help search. He’s under my care. I’m responsible.”
I glance into the hall where the students are tucking into their food. But the chatter isn’t as loud as usual. No one’s laughing, and there are several glances our way.
“The students need you. They’ll start getting anxious. They need a steady hand.”
Her gaze studies my face. “How about you? It’s dangerous out there in the dark.”
I trail my palms down her shoulders until I grasp her hands. “It’s sweet that you’re worried about me, but this is what I’m trained for.” I indicate the kids peering anxiously at us. “And this is what you’re trained for. I’ll find Justin, you keep things calm here.”
She nods once, and I squeeze her hands. Then I jog around to the staff quarters to form a search party.
Ten minutes later, I’m deep in the woods where we just came from. The path forks in two, and Bruce has taken the other branch in case Justin got lost in the dark. The camp director is doing a check of the grounds, and Linda, the cook, is taking the path that goes by the river.
My daypack has basic survival gear; I never go into the woods without it. And I cast my flashlight across the path, making big sweeps as I call Justin’s name. It’s pitch black now, and I can’t see anything outside the beam of my light.
I go slowly and methodically, keeping my eyes wide open and peering into the sides of the path with every sweep of the flashlight.
He could have slipped, and he could be unconscious. It’s unlikely an animal was around with the noise we were making as we walked, but now that the silence and the dark have settled in, there could be any number of predators.
I keep my thoughts from racing and focus on the moment; sweep the flashlight, check the beam, call his name, stop and listen. I fall into the rhythm of the search, trying not to think about what I might find.
Each minute that ticks by without a trace of Justin has my anxiety rising. I hope Brooke’s managing to keep the kids busy. Her anxious expression haunts me. I have to bring him home, for her.
I just hope she isn’t being too hard on herself. Justin has been disobeying rules the whole time we’ve been at camp, but if something has happened to him, Brooke will never forgive herself.
I keep pushing on up the trail, swipe the beam, call his name, stop to listen. It feels like I’ve been out here for hours, but it must only be twenty minutes when I hear a faint cry.
I call Justin’s name again and cock my head to listen. Sure enough, there’s an answering call coming from up the path. I move quicker, swiping the beam of the flashlight. The sound becomes louder, a croaky voice.
“Over here.”
I follow the voice, and my flashlight picks up a trail in the undergrowth made by animals. It’s off the main path and not made by or for humans, but big enough to walk along between the trees.
I find Justin slumped by a tree, his knees pulled up to his chest, his arm over his eyes shielding them from the beam of light.
“It’s okay, buddy.” I crouch next to him and put the flashlight on the soft ground so the beam isn’t in his face.
He slumps forward and lowers his head to his knees, sobbing.
“I’ve got you. You’re okay.” From my pack I pull a foil survival blanket and wrap it around his trembling body.
“Are you hurt? Are you injured?”
He shakes his head. “No.”
I tuck the foil blanket between his knees so he’s fully encased. “You’re safe now.”
I murmur reassurances until his sobbing subsides. There’s water in my backpack, and I pull it out and put a steady hand on his shoulder.
“Have something to drink, buddy.”
He looks up and wipes his sleeve over his nose. He’s grimy with dirt and his eyes red from crying.
He takes the water bottle, and as he drinks, I dig out a protein bar.
“Get some fuel down you, and you’ll feel better.”
He takes the protein bar and bites into it. As he chews, the color slowly returns to his cheeks. “Can you tell me what happened?”
He swallows his mouthful. “I saw this path, and it looked so cool with my phone light on it. So I ducked down it, and it was a low path so I was crouching, and it did look cool. But then my phone battery died. And it was pitch black and I must have been here longer than I thought, because I couldn’t hear anyone. ”
He takes a long, shuddering breath. “I tried to walk back to the path, but I got disorientated and didn’t know if I was going further into the woods. So I sat down to wait.”
I squeeze his shoulder. “You did the right thing. Never walk in unfamiliar territory in the dark without NVGs. You don’t know if there’s a cliff or a stream.”
“What are NVGs?”
“Night vision goggles.”
His lips curl up in a small smile. “Cool.”
It’s a relief to see him smile. He was scared, but he’s going to be okay.
“Come on.” I stand up and hold out my hand to help him up. “Let’s get you back to camp.”
I get my phone out to call Brooke, but there’s no signal. I hate to keep her waiting when she’ll be so anxious, but there’s no other choice.
“Have you got all your gear?”
I flash the light around the area, and he collects his rucksack and camera.
“Thanks for coming for me, sir.” I put a hand on his back and guide him to the path.
“No problem. But you’ve given your teacher a hell of a fright.”
He cringes. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. She’s the best teacher. She’s the only one who doesn’t hate me, and now she probably will.”
I think about Brooke and her worried expression. She doesn’t see the kids as students. They’re more like her own children. “She’ll just be relieved to have you back safe and sound.”
We head down the path, and Justin coughs next to me. “Um, can you, like, not tell anyone that I cried when you found me?”
“It’s okay to cry when you’re upset and scared.”
He takes a moment to reply. “Yeah, I know. But can you still not tell anyone?”
I smile in the dark even though he can’t see me. “Your secret’s safe with me.”