It’s Joe’s turn to tell a story by the campfire.
“One night, a boy went missing on Scout Camp,” he whispers. I shiver, despite the heat, and huddle in closer. I’m not scared, it’s just that it’s hard to hear him when he’s whispering like that. Behind him, the shadowy outline of tree branches could be horns growing out of his head.
“Every year, on the anniversary of his disappearance, another boy goes missing. But right before he does, he sees the missing boys. No-one else can see them…”
The fire spits and we all jump, then we’re laughing uncontrollably. This is way more fun than singing boring camping songs.
Sweat is starting to pool on my forehead. It really is hot, considering it’s the middle of the night. I look around the circle and all the other boys look red too. It could be because we’re all wearing our Scout uniforms. John and David must be super hot in those hats. Why do they insist on wearing them?
The sound of high-pitched chatter drowns out Joe’s voice and something moves over by the trees. My heart is hammering as the silhouettes speed past. It’s a group of boys.
Joe has stopped talking, and when I look back, I see with relief that everyone’s head is turned towards the boys. They can all see them. Phew!
We burst into laughter again. My friends’ faces look misshapen in the flickering light as different bits of them light up and then disappear. For some reason this makes me laugh even harder. Joe is the colour of a tomato. John’s face is slick with sweat. Mark and Tom have angry blisters on their cheeks. And what is that burning smell? Someone must have dropped their marshmallow in the fire. Probably Darren.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that one of the boys has stopped running.
“Look!” he shouts, and we all stop laughing. He’s pointing at us. “There’s another group of Scouts!”
His friend stops too and stares in our direction. “What are you on about? There’s no one there. Come on, last one’s a rotten egg!”
But the boy just stands there.
“Come, join us!” says John, and my friends chime in, raising three fingers in the Scout’s Sign.
“Join us! Join us! Join us!”
It’s so crowded around the fire, why would we want someone else squeezing in? Still, I find myself making the Scout’s Sign and saying it too.
“Join us!”
The boy breaks into a run, this time towards us, his smile glowing white in the firelight.
It’s unbearably hot now. I try to back away from the fire but my seat won’t budge. My friends’ raised hands and faces are melting like candles, eyes and noses and fingers dripping into the flames.
“Welcome!” booms Akela’s voice behind me, and I might be a tiny bit scared now. “Take a seat. You have some catching up to do. These boys are almost cooked…”
