A crowd of exhausted children was slowly approaching the house—though, really, "mansion" was the more fitting word. It was as large as a school, but where a school might have only one floor, this building soared up to four, its roof nearly brushing the treetops. Dozens of windows glowed in the evening, flickering only occasionally as the shadows of figures passed by, peering in from outside.
Through the leafy trees lining the road, little rooftops began to appear, and soon, small wooden cottages emerged from the gloom. They stretched away from the mansion in a staggered, zigzagging line, disappearing somewhere into the darkness. Dirt paths radiated outward in all directions, like strands of a spider's web. Everything was bathed in a twilight gloom, making it feel as though the forest was closing in from all sides. Only faint halos of light escaped from behind the cottages, barely revealing glimpses of nearby verandas.
"Hey, you!" Andrew called out immediately to the man who had just stepped out of the mansion onto a small veranda, descending the wide staircase.
The air outside was damp, as if it had just rained. Strangely, there were no puddles, nor a trace of water on the leaves. But at that moment, none of the students cared about such details. After hours on the road, each of them had come to loathe the vile, musty stench of the bus—a hatred they would all remember from this day forward.
"I'm never getting on a bus again!"
"I'd rather stay here forever than ride back in that rust bucket!"
Nobody spoke a word, but these thoughts rang loud and clear in every mind.
"Good evening!" The man looked quite young, though still older than Constance or Andrew. He was holding a small clipboard, reading something intently. Seeing the newcomers, he seemed slightly surprised, lost in thought for a moment. His expression was like that of a guy singled out by reporters in a crowd—caught off guard, standing in front of the camera for the first time, trying not to show his shock.
"Hello!" Constance stepped away from the group, waving his hand for everyone to stop.
"Where do they go?" Andrew stepped forward, taking the tablet from the man's hands. He glanced over it quickly, then tried to hand it back.
"Settle them in the empty houses." The man, still somewhat bewildered, fell into a trance and paused for a moment. "The first and second are free… I think… How many are there?"
"There are eleven of us, counting me." Constance came closer, and the two of them began to discuss something, moving aside.
The unknown man snatched the clipboard from Andrew's hands, clearly displeased that it had been taken from him.
"I honestly don't care where I sleep anymore. I'm ready to lie down right here!" murmured one of the teenagers, and the crowd grew increasingly restless. The fresh air seemed to bring some life back into their weary bodies.
A few minutes later, Andrew and Constance returned. They announced that the students would be split into two groups: boys and girls. But everyone was so tired that this information barely registered.
Stopping at the house marked with a decorative metal number 1, Constance said that Janet, Kathleen, Sarah, Rachel, and Lassie would be living here. The boys would settle across the way, in house number 2.
Making sure everything was in order, Constance led the remaining group to the second lodging, just a few steps away. Through the door, they saw a nearly empty room. The only furnishings were five beds, each with a nightstand beside it. In the far corner stood two writing desks and four chairs. The lighting was dim; a couple of old incandescent bulbs dangled from wires overhead, looking entirely unsafe for a wooden cabin—but no one cared about that now.
A boy their age, lying on one of the distant beds, stared at the group with a blank expression. He propped himself up slightly, setting aside his book.
"Good evening. We were told our group would be staying here," the teacher decided to clarify.
The boy said nothing, showed no emotion, and simply lay back down, resuming his reading.
"Let me double-check," Constance said, leaving his backpack and suitcase in the room and squeezing past the students to head back toward the house. Andrew merely shrugged and followed after him.
Everyone stood silently, watching the boy in the room. The group had all filed inside. Some sat on the beds, others lay down. Only Adam and Gregory remained standing, observing as a few kids pulled out their phones and set aside their belongings. No one cared where they slept anymore.
"Oh! There's internet here! We're saved!" The others quickly grabbed their phones, settling onto the beds as they realized they had a signal at last. They had spent hours driving through the forest without a single bar of coverage—a torture of boredom during those long, grueling days and nights, the kind that would surely haunt their dreams.
Only one bed remained unclaimed. Both Gregory and Adam understood that a choice had to be made—one would stay here, and the other would be sent off into the unknown. Even if he stayed in this house and wasn't shipped off to another class, neither relished the thought of sleeping on whatever they might find in a storage closet.
Exchanging glances, the friends instantly grasped the situation and made their decision.
"Rock, paper, scissors, lizard, Spock." Adam and Gregory raised their fists in perfect unison.
"Rock."
"Spock! Yes!" Gregory exulted, then immediately quieted down, shifting his gaze to their classmates.
"This is insane…" Adam muttered, watching his friend take his things to the bed at the far end, across from the silent boy who continued reading, seemingly oblivious to the sudden invasion of nearly a dozen people.
A few minutes later, the two of them stood together on the porch of their cabin. Aside from the mansion, there were eleven other huts nearby, already occupied. Lights glowed in all of them, and from time to time, someone made a noise. The paths around them all converged at the large house, snaking out into the darkness beyond.
"How many people are in there?" Adam wondered, staring at the enormous mansion.
"Probably classrooms and special rooms, like a storeroom."
"That was rhetorical…" — "It wouldn't be so bad to live there." — "Seems like a lot of space for a storeroom…"
"Maybe that's exactly where they'll put you."
"Screw off!"
"Don't worry, I'll keep talking to you even if you end up sleeping on the floor. Friendship means more to me than honor!"
"Oh, get lost!" Adam nudged his friend, chuckling softly.
"…"
"It's quiet here…"
"Yeah. Coming here was worth it… You're already getting into the mood. Camp is wonderful."
"Maybe… Still, it all feels strange… I don't know… A premonition." Ever since their arrival, Adam had felt as though something was watching him from the shadows. He didn't like it.
"That's the whole point. That little thrill, that sense of danger. That adrenaline—it's nature."
"Find yourself a girlfriend—that's adrenaline for you…"
"Right to the heart! How am I supposed to live without a girlfriend?" Gregory put on a look of mock surprise and smirked, "JUST LIKE YOU!"
"Touche."
"Touche…"
"You go out into nature with your family all the time. It's just not for me."
"Nah… I didn't like the outdoors at first either. I refused to go every time. You remember how I 'got sick'… That story with the doctor…"
"Yeah, I remember. It's impressive what you'll do in an emergency… You even tried to bargain your way out… Unsuccessfully, but still—the attempt counts!"
"I got used to it. I guess it comes with age… I like the quiet, the peace."
"I don't know. All the little critters crawling around don't exactly bring me peace. Especially when they crawl on me."
"No, it's not like that… You know, it's a kind of silence. They can't really disturb you. They're part of the quiet. Insects themselves are kind of gross, but in nature, they're part of something beautiful… I don't know how to explain it."
"Nothing feels out of place…"
"Yeah. Everything's where it belongs…"
"…"
"…"
"Look! Over there!" Gregory turned his head toward the mansion, following Adam's gesture.
"What?"
"In the mansion. Second floor. Third window from the left. Look at that guy."
"Oh… Yeah… A gorilla." The silhouette in the window was imposing. His shoulders were nearly as wide as the massive window frame. Judging by how he leaned on the windowsill, he was incredibly tall—at least two meters, if not more.
"Even from here, he's huge. Did you see the size of the windows on the first floor?"
"Yeah. I could lie down across the frame. And he's nearly as wide as that. Unreal. What did they feed him as a kid?" It was almost impossible to make out anything but his silhouette—the light was behind him, leaving his face in shadow.
"Iron."
"… Humor isn't really your thing."
For a while, they simply stood and watched the stranger, breathing in the fresh air.
Suddenly—creak! They both turned toward the farthest cabin. Out of the light stepped a boy wearing an enormous hoodie, at least ten sizes too big. His face was hidden. For some reason, both Adam and Gregory felt a chill run down their spines.
The boy shut the door behind him and stood on the porch, staring off into the depths of the forest. Adam and Gregory stayed silent. Before long, Constance emerged from the mansion, quickly vanishing into the darkness as he hurried in their direction.
"Is everyone settled in?" Constance looked anxious, though neither Adam nor Gregory paid much attention.
"Yeah. Only I'm left—there wasn't enough beds."
"I've sorted it out. Someone will come and take you to your place soon." Constance patted Adam on the back, then opened the cabin door. "Everything alright, guys?"
"Yeah, all good," the boys replied in unison.
"Perfect. By the way, if you need the bathroom or shower—just go straight down the main road, men's is on the right. There'll be a sign, you'll see it. I'll come by again later. If you have any questions, I'm in the neighboring house with the girls."
"Good night!" everyone called out together.
"Right! Thanks! Good night to you too, guys!" Constance shouted back, already heading toward the girls' cabin.
Gregory and Adam watched their teacher until he reached the girls' cabin, then continued to stand, waiting for their guide. He turned out to be a big man of solid age, with a light stubble and a deep, resonant voice—he looked every bit like a Canadian lumberjack, save for the lack of a full beard and a plaid shirt.
"Robert." Adam stood on the dirt path with his luggage. The man extended his hand, gripping Adam's firmly.
"Adam."
"Let's go," the man said curtly.
"He's leaving," Gregory noted, seeing Robert disappear into the darkness before Adam could even say goodbye.
"Damn! Wait up!"
After a few minutes of slow walking, turning off the main road once the houses had ended, they reached a small shed. Adam silently prayed there would be something decent behind this outdoor storeroom. But Robert approached the shed's door, fumbled with a bunch of keys, and unlocked it. Flashing his torch inside, he found the switch. Light flooded the tiny square of living space.
Inside, it was… cozy, at least to an optimist-Adam. But Adam-the-realist saw only an abandoned shed where work tools had once been stored. He shouldn't have thought about lumberjacks. It looked more like a carpenter's storeroom, hastily furnished with a bed and a nightstand—probably made right there on the spot. Still, to be fair, it was quite clean for a place like this.
"Make yourself at home." Having uttered what seemed like his third and final word, Robert vanished into the darkness, tossing Adam a small key.
"Good night!"
"… " Robert acted as though he hadn't heard the farewell at all.
"Yeah…" Setting his things down and closing the door behind him, Adam realized just how cramped the place was. "Damn…"
He dropped onto the bed and for a while just stared at the ceiling. A single bulb—identical to the ones in the cabins—cast a sickly yellow light, illuminating tiny insects crawling across the still-cold glass. The ceiling was covered in splinters, chips, and small bugs that sometimes flitted from one irregular patch of wood to another.
The hard, cold mattress and the creak of wood with every breath felt to Adam like a soft feather bed and a soothing lullaby in that moment. He didn't even think about the swarms of insects crawling all around him.
Ping!
He pulled his phone from his jeans and held it above his face.
"How's the new place?"
Adam stared at the message for a moment. Opening Snapchat, he gazed at Gregory's avatar—a pale guy with white hair. Adam didn't know why, but suddenly a wave of melancholy and exhaustion washed over him. He remembered being there when Gregory created his Bitmoji. They'd been at his house, playing The Witcher. From the start, their avatars had been ridiculous, with their latest prototypes inspired by Geralt and Kylo Ren. Adam's Ben turned out pretty awful, not that he'd ever admit it. At least Geralt looked decent.
"They didn't put you in with the girls, did they?" Adam smiled.
"Are you afraid you won't be able to visit me?
It's fine
Good night"
"Good night."
Adam just wanted to lie there.
Just silence… All he needed was silence.
…
Fyu-hyu-yuuu
Hyu-fyu-yuuu
It was the wind. The wind blowing through a tiny crack in his little coffin of a room.
"Damn…" Not knowing why, Adam started turning his head, trying to locate the source of the sound. Sprawled on the bed, he edged his head closer to the far right corner. "What the hell?!" The whistle was coming from below. The crack was under the bed. Adam just lay there for a while.
Knock-knock!
"In ten minutes, meeting in the main hall of the big house."
With the creak of the bed beneath him, Adam got up. He opened the door and saw only darkness—the messenger was already gone. Judging by the voice, it could have been Robert or someone else entirely.
Returning to the bed, he picked up his phone. He hadn't noticed that half an hour had slipped by.
A message had arrived five minutes ago.
— We're meeting at nine in the mansion's hall
Did the teacher come to see you?
When are you heading out?
— I'll be by your cabin in about five minutes
Adam sighed deeply and sat on the edge of the bed, glancing at the time in the corner of his screen. The lamp's glow reflected off Saitama's bald head from One Punch Man by ONE, which he'd set as his wallpaper.
Adam didn't know why, but he liked this manga more than Murata's version. There was no objective reason, and his debates with Gregory on this topic were always a bit pathetic. He just liked it—no explanation needed.
"Time to go." With the floorboards and the bed creaking, pressing on his temples with their noise, Adam got up and left the shed. He locked the door, though he hardly saw the point—no one would want to claim this place for themselves—and headed toward the cabins.
***
"You can always come to me or Jackie's deputy if you have questions or need to make any adjustments to your schedule. Your counselors will now give you your badges and a general plan of official events. A more detailed list of courses you'll be attending will be handed out tomorrow. Tonight, as always, lights out at ten. Good night, everyone! See you tomorrow! Have a wonderful summer!" The woman, just over forty, with blonde hair and a black vest, stepped down from the stage and disappeared into the crowd of students.
That was Joan Hart. She had taken on the role of camp director because the camp administration had some personal issues preventing them from getting here. For now, the teachers who accompanied the students would be responsible for everything. That was the gist Adam gathered from her speech, listening with only half an ear.
He didn't have the strength to force himself to absorb the avalanche of information the director had dumped on them, especially since most of it was empty words of encouragement, motivation, and the like—the same stuff Adam had to sit through at school all the time.
The only thing bothering him now was that no one seemed to be heading off to their rooms. The sheer number of people in the hall was unsettling, too. The place was the size of a football field, and it was packed full. There were hundreds of children here—maybe even more than a thousand.
Adam just stood there, trying not to collapse from exhaustion. His classmates looked to be in the same state. It took him a moment to realize something was happening.
"A-aaah!!!"—a familiar voice, sounding like Janet, screamed somewhere in the crowd. People started moving toward the commotion.
Peering through the mass of bodies, Adam saw two girls standing face-to-face. He turned away silently, realizing he'd been mistaken. All that mattered was that Janet wasn't involved—everything else was irrelevant to him.
The owner of the voice was another girl, now hiding among her classmates. Judging by how they shielded her, the group seemed more like her personal fan club.
"How's the Janet rescue mission?" Gregory was in top form, now that no one else was around.
"It's not her."
"Some hysterical idiot," Adam thought, too drained to say it aloud.
"… " Gregory was genuinely surprised that his friend didn't respond to the jab.
They kept waiting off to the side until several teachers finally appeared in the crowd. Calming the students, they began handing out schedules.
"So… Adam! This is for you." Teacher Constance handed him a small sheet of paper. Adam felt sick just looking at it. The only thing he managed to read was the text on his badge: "Adam Schmidt, Class #49."
"They're numbering us now. Next they'll start feeding us pills," Adam thought as he left the hall for the cabins.
"You haven't gotten yours yet? I've already taken all mine," Adam said out loud again, apparently. Max put a hand on his shoulder. "What did Constance say to you?"
"Oh, nothing much… Just random stuff…"
"Okay, good night!"
"You too!" Right after Adam said these words, Gregory somehow popped up from the opposite direction, even though he'd been walking beside him just moments before. "Damn! How do you do that? When did you slip away?"
"… " Gregory just shrugged. They kept walking on the edge of the crowd of students living outdoors, discussing things animatedly and occasionally shouting curses.
When they reached their room, Adam collapsed onto the bed, still fully dressed.
Fyu-hyu-yuuu
"DAMN!!!"