Chapter 10
Ten
Emma followed the others into the mess hall. Despite the prime time for breakfast service, the large room was almost empty. Only a handful of former campers lingered at a table near the door.
Near the entrance to the kitchen, someone had laid out a spread of fresh fruit, cereals, and granola bars on a table. With the Thomases in mourning, the typical hot breakfast was off the menu. Emma grabbed a handful of items for her backpack.
The hike shouldn’t last more than a night. She didn’t want to hoard—and felt conspicuous as wrappers crinkled in the quiet space—but she wasn’t sure anything would be replenished during their absence. She packed enough food for a few days.
“Do we have everything?” Jennifer asked.
“I’d like to get something more substantial for our campout. Like hot dogs,” Christine said. “Do you suppose we could sneak into the kitchen? I don’t think Mrs. Thomas would mind, but I don’t want to be disrespectful,” Christine murmured.
The screen door opened and shut as the others left the mess hall.
“I think this is our chance to get what we need. The Thomases wouldn’t mind. I’ll grab water bottles,” Emma added. “Better safe than sorry.”
“I can be lookout,” Margaux said.
Emma grabbed her backpack and followed Jennifer and Christine into the back. Jennifer headed toward the pantry. Christine opened the door to the massive, walk-in refrigerator.
Emma stood still, torn about taking a next step. She’d promised Daniel that she’d stick with at least two of her cabin mates at all time. She hated breaking a promise, no matter how small. If she moved fast, she’d be fine, she reasoned.
Christine exited, holding the bag of hot dogs aloft. “I think I saw a case of water on the bottom shelf. I’m going to grab buns and make sure Jennifer gets the marshmallows and enough chocolate. As far as I’m concerned, graham crackers are optional.”
Emma flashed a thumbs up. She entered the cooler, blinking as her vision adjusted to the dimly lit interior. The metal shelves were only half full, further proof of the strained circumstances of the camp.
During her youth, she remembered sneaking in to an overflowing refrigerator. Mrs. Thomas kept a secret stash of candy behind the vegetables in the center. Emma found nothing on the bare shelf now.
After only a few seconds, the chill in the room had raised goosebumps on her skin.
She rubbed her hands together and strode to the furthest corner.
On the bottom, she spotted an unopened case of water.
Kneeling, she yanked the case forward with both hands.
She ripped the package open, regretting not packing scissors.
She loaded as many water bottles into her backpack as she could, the zipper straining as she closed it. Slipping the backpack over her shoulders, she adjusted to the heavier weight. As long as she gripped the backpack by the straps as she walked to steady it, she’d be fine.
The door shut with a soft thud.
She had forgotten to brace it with a makeshift doorstop. She ran towards the panel and shoved. The door didn’t budge. Frantic, she pushed against the handle. “No, no, no.”
Her chest tingled. She couldn’t draw in enough air. How much oxygen remained in the room? Would she suffocate in here? Or worse. When did hypothermia set in? She wrapped her arms around herself, rubbing the cold skin under her thin t-shirt.
She had to get out of here. Dying by accident at Camp Promise would be an unfortunate full circle moment. With her shoulder, she rammed the door. Again and again, she repeated the process until her shoulder burned.
Why wouldn’t the door move? Did someone block it on the other side? Daniel told her not to be alone. A sob built in her chest. If the killer thought she’d go quietly, she’d prove them wrong. She had to free herself. “HELP. HELP. HELP,” she screamed.
Tears poured down her face but still she ran against the door with all her energy. She took in a deep breath and raced forward. The door gave way, opening a crack. She burst out at full speed, knocking Margaux backwards to the ground.
“Oh, no. Emma? What’s wrong?” Margaux asked, her face a mask of confusion.
“The door shut on me.” Emma gulped in fresh air, doubling over as she stood. She offered a hand down to Margaux. “Thank you. You saved me. Why did you come looking for me?”
Margaux accepted Emma’s hand and stood, brushing her shorts. “We were ready to go, and you were taking too long. Christine left for the bathroom, and Jennifer is trying to take a call. I looked through the entire kitchen and pantry.”
“Emma?” Daniel called from the mess hall.
“We’re back here,” Margaux answered.
Daniel burst through the door. “Emma?”
Emma wrapped her arms around herself and shuddered, her teeth chattering.
“An accident. It’s nothing.” She met his wide-eyed gaze.
“I’m fine. A little cold and feeling foolish.
Mrs. Thomas always warned us about the old refrigerator.
The door doesn’t stay open. It has to be propped, and it locks from the outside.
I forgot to check that I blocked the door from slamming shut. But I’m fine.”
He opened his mouth, like he wanted to say something. He shot a glance at Margaux and stopped himself. “We better get going. You’ll warm up once we start moving.”
She nodded, glad he hadn’t reprimanded her in front of Margaux. If Margaux hadn’t stumbled into the kitchen, Emma would have been trapped. Who knows how long she would have been entombed?
Daniel couldn’t believe Emma had disobeyed his instructions.
She was in danger. Whether or not the incident at the kitchen had been foul play or simple accident, the consequences would have been dire.
She had to remain in the company of the others.
He wanted to talk more but finding another moment to chat proved difficult.
After a rough start, the hike began and lifted everyone’s spirits. Jennifer and Christine took the lead. The pair laughed and joked as old friends did. Sometimes including Emma. Never reaching out to Margaux.
Daniel hung back, acting as caboose. He wasn’t worried about dangers ahead. It was the human element that might follow them that worried him.
Margaux slowed her gait to fall into step with him. “Thanks for joining us. I’m sure my husband will appreciate it.”
“Of course,” Daniel replied, refraining from asking the questions driving him to distraction. He’d let the federal agent handle the follow up with her. Patience would serve him best.
Margaux twisted her fingers together. “I have something to tell you. I probably should’ve told you earlier.”
He waited, letting the silence envelop them as he studied her exaggerated mannerisms. He hated the overwhelming instinct that she wasn’t totally honest. He owed her the benefit of the doubt. Her actions hinted at nothing nefarious. She had rescued Emma.
Unease lingered. Why hadn’t he received any communication from her husband or his security team? Why was he, a small-town law enforcement professional, taking the lead on her safety?
“I received another note,” she said.
“Oh?” He wasn’t convinced the first note was a threat at all. The more he considered it, the more he was aware of the vague language. There was no demand made. The note read like an ominous statement encouraging her best behavior. Like the admonishment of a parent to a child.
“I’m worried I’m being watched,” she murmured, quickly shooting a glance over her shoulder. “Tracked.”
“Why? What did the note say?” As a trained officer, regardless of personal feelings or unfounded suspicions, he treated everyone with respect.
“No loose ends,” she hissed.
He stopped in his tracks. The same thing Emma had read on the note at the hospital. He couldn’t blow off the coincidence. “Did you save the note?”
“It’s back in the cabin with my phone. I left my worries behind.” She chuckled. “Oh, shoot. We’re slowing them down. I’ll race you to the group.”
“Don—” He cut himself off. Maybe her wanting to catch up to the group was a good sign. Perhaps she was regaining her self-confidence. He didn’t mind a few moments of solitude, sorting through the web of his thoughts.
How could he help everyone? He was stretched too thin. If he focused on Emma, he showed unprofessionalism. But she was under the most dire threat. Her life had been at risk multiple times since arriving. Margaux’s worries remained theoretical.
A scream ripped through the air, the blood curdling sound of terror all too real.
He raced forward. With his blood pumping, he scaled over fallen tree stumps with ease and ripped small tree limbs and branches off the path.
His adrenaline surged as he spotted three figures huddled together on the ground.
He pressed his radio and heard nothing. His heartbeat pounded.
The battery was dead. He had no way to call for help. They were on their own.