The Revenant at Camp

"We need to talk about Tasha."

"What's up? Is she alright?" I catch myself before I say anything else, in case I came across as too interested.

Billy took a seat on the end of his cot, facing me. It practically shrieked beneath him. Such a rotten trick - give us the noisiest beds at camp so the councillors immediately knew when we were out of them, or messing around in them.

"Look, Marcus... Jake said he overheard the girls talking earlier, and..."

"Spit it out, Bill."

He scratched his brow, biting his teeth together as if they were bars to a cage. "She's a freak, Marc. You don't want to be seen hanging around someone like that."

"The hell are you talking about?! I've known Tasha since kindergarten, we used to be neighbours." Sure, I hadn't seen her for a while until this trip, but she hadn't changed all that much since I moved out of town in seventh grade. What difference was two years?

"I'm just the messenger, dude. It's not my fault everyone thinks she's a weirdo."

"Okay then, what exactly did you hear, oh grand messenger?"

He sneered, "sorry I said anything. I'm only trying to help."

I kept pressing him for details, widening my posture as I did to let him know I meant business.

"Cassie said she had these weird bottles in her suitcase."

"So? Maybe she snuck booze in. That's cool."

"Well yeah, that's what Cassie thought too. But when she asked about them, Tasha got super defensive."

"Is that all?"

"No. Darcy mentioned that she saw her talking to herself by the fence."

"Ooh, spooky (!)" I lay back in my own cot, creaking up a storm.

"And Amber M said she keeps a knife under her pillow."

"Awesome. Typical Tasha." I turned to narrow my eyes at him. "Her mom's in the forces and her dad's a hunter."

"You don't get it. You didn't hear how they said it. Ask them yourself, you'll see. Something's not right!"

"Bill, I know all those girls and exactly what they're like. I'm not about to ghost a childhood friend because of their insecurities. Tasha's great! And I've met her family - I used to go over to her place all the time. Her dad showed me how to fix a bike."

"I'm just saying, buddy. We're not kids anymore - you can't hang out with whoever you want. You have to think about your reputation."

I went to argue, but my words were cut off by the sound of the councillors' bugle. Lights out.

It's no surprise I didn't get much sleep that night, though the state of my bed didn't help. My thoughts kept spinning around in my head, and the noise of the woods around the camp sounded much louder than they usually did. There were owls, frogs, and crickets singing out into the dark, I suppose compensating for the rain of the previous night.

My reputation? Oh please, there were eighty kids at camp, and I was convinced most of them had absolutely no perception of my existence whatsoever. Besides swimming and running, I wasn't good enough at much else to draw their notice. Surely everyone else was more worried about what the popular kids were doing than whatever a nobody like me was up to. And if I did hang out with Tasha, what of it? Was everyone really so shallow?

The next day, we had to be up early for the team rowing race out on the lake. We went by cabin, so it inevitably became a clash of the genders. The girls beat the boys every time, but between races, I gathered by courage to talk to Tasha.

I watched her every once in a while as she stood in her ripped jeans and green plaid beneath her life jacket. She had her black hair up in a ponytail through the back of her camp-issue baseball cap, and she wore sensible hiking boots instead of sneakers like everyone else. Of course she was in her element out here - in the woods among nature. I remember that her dad took her camping every summer. She used to tell us the stories in elementary school - how they'd caught or foraged for their own food, how she'd had to chase off a bear with an air horn, and all the survival skills her dad had taught her. The best year was when her mom had gone with them. She didn't share much, but she was always at her happiest upon returning from those trips.

So I couldn't help wonder why she'd come here to camp instead of vacationing with her family instead.

"Hey, Tasha." I headed over while two other cabins raced. She narrowed her eyes at me. "Do you remember me?"

"Course I do, dude. We talked yesterday." She nudged my arm. It hurt more than I let on. "I'm still not used to your hair being like that. You look really different."

"What's wrong with it?"

"I miss your braids. They were nice."

I ran my fingers across the buzzed back and sides. "Yeah, well, when we moved, we had to find a new barber. He's not as good. I had to compromise."

"I was supposed to have mine cut before camp." She checked the length in her hand - just long enough to wrap it around her fist. "Long hair is a hazard."

I'd nearly forgotten that she always kept it pixie-length. I think she had a fear of being grabbed from behind. I followed her eye as she watched the boats cross the finish line.

"Too slow..." She muttered.

Tasha always was the best at athletics. She could out-speed me no problem. Whether it was biking, swimming, running, or climbing, she'd beat anyone else by a mile. I was the only one who ever got close to her scores, though even I lagged behind by comparison.

"Do you still race?"

She shrugged. "You could call it that."

My cabin's turn came before I could ask anything else.

Our team went up against the Holly cabin. For a while, we kept neck-and-neck, until my paddle met some resistance in the water. I'd gone too deep, and gotten wrapped up in weeds. Had I been in the water, I'd have felt it coming, but I couldn't see anything beyond my own reflection from the surface. By the time we got back to shore, Tasha was getting ready for the next race. Her team won the whole tournament, as expected.

I couldn't get close to talk in private for the rest of the day, but that night, I was sure to tease Bill about how wrong he'd been about her. I'm not sure if I managed to convince him. I fell asleep and forgot all about it.

I heard creaking at 2am. Distinctive cot squeaking from the bed next to mine. Everyone was still asleep, except Bill... And the door was left open. I crept over in my slippers to avoid making any noise, finding muddy boot prints around the entrance. Had he forgotten the rule against shoes in the cabin? No, Bill didn't wear boots. Nobody did. Except Tasha. But why would she be in our cabin?

I grabbed my coat and leaned out into the night. Maybe Bill had gone to the toilet? Still, I had a strange sinking feeling in my guts. The woods around the camp were spooky in the dark, and being home to bears and skunks and snakes, the councillors warned us to remain vigilant if going anywhere, and to never leave the cabin area after hours.

Sneakers on, I headed over to the toilet block, making sure the cabin door was firmly shut behind me. When I got there, I was hit by a wall of cold air inside. I watched my breath against the air, bundling up tightly. The light had been left on...

I found Bill on the floor, surrounded by dark smears of blood. He was alive, thank goodness, but something had clearly tried to take a chunk out of him.

"Bill?!" I shook his arm to wake him. He pushed himself up, groggily, wincing as he stretched the wounds on his opposite shoulder. They looked like claw marks. "What happened?"

He struggled to focus his eyes on me. "Marcus? Where's Tasha?"

"You saw Tasha?" The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, my skin prickling. "Did she do this to you?"

"No... she... saved me." He drew his hand to his forehead, finding a bruise from where he'd bashed it against the sink. "There was this guy." I watched his gaze drift to the stall door. "Just... standing there. He saw me, and-" he grabbed his shoulder again. "Tasha must have been nearby, because she practically flew at him and chased him out. She was like a ninja or something. I passed out after that though."

"You should probably rest a little longer if you hit your head." I got back to my feet. "I'm going to look for her."

"Take a flashlight and bear spray. You don't know what could be out there."

I followed his advice, finding a light and can of spray in the shed, along with Bill's confiscated cell phone. I returned it - figuring he could call for help. Then I raced into the trees, following the boot prints.

Her tracks led me to the banks of the lake, where the boats were kept. I hid myself low around them, sure someone might hear or see me. My stomach lurched as a hand met my ankle, but when I turned my light, I saw Tasha hiding under the boat.

"Marcus?!" She gasped, crawling out from cover.

"Tasha, you okay?"

"I thought you were... someone else." She sat beside me, leaning against the stack. "You shouldn't have followed me out here, it's not safe."

"Then why are you out here? I found Bill. What's going on?"

She sighed. "You weren't supposed to get involved. Neither of you were... You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me."

"... That guy? He's a ghost."

"The hell?"

"See, I knew you wouldn't believe me!"

I shook my head. "Just... Okay, ghosts. Go on."

"And I can... Interact with ghosts."

"Boot 'em, you mean?"

"See, touch, talk, kick, anything really. I hunt ghosts. It runs in the family."

"So your mom, and your dad..."

"Yeah, they both have the gift. They hunt ghosts too, or use them in other ways. Mom has a little ghost girl that follows her around - a poltergeist. She actually warns my mom of trouble up ahead while on missions, and if anyone tries to sneak up on her while she's asleep."

"So about the guy that attacked Billy..."

"I didn't think he'd actually hurt anyone! I found him on our first day here. He swore to leave everyone alone, so long as everyone behaved. But then he started wandering around the cabins. I think he must have thought Billy was breaking curfew by heading outside. That ghost is what's known as a revenant. It's a spirit hell-bent on revenge. I tried to get him to tell me who he was after. Revenants are notoriously uncommunicative. Either way, he's all riled up now, and I need to take him down before he kills anyone." She drew the knife from her belt, the blade glistening in the moonlight.

"Silver?"

She nodded. "Sanctified silver, made by witches."

I decided to overlook the part where she confirmed witches were real. I was even willing to accept there were such things as werewolves and vampires. "So what's the plan?"

"The attack got him pretty worked up, so I led him out here before hiding. Fighting him in this state would be stupid. I'm waiting for him to calm down a bit, then I'll catch up with him. Trust me, you do not want to mess with an angry revenant. So be quiet, if you're with me. Honestly, I could do with a second set of eyes in case things go sideways. You should be able to see him in the moonlight."

After she caught her breath, I followed her closely around the lake. I thought I saw something moving in the trees. I pointed it out to Tasha.

"Hide." She nudged me over to a fallen tree. I did as she asked and waited behind cover as she searched.

Out on the lake, I noticed a light. I couldn't explain it, though something compelled me over there.

Against my better judgement, I stripped down to my shorts and waded in. The water was warmer than I expected. I swam out as far and as quick as I could, glancing over my shoulder to see the shape of a man floating in my direction, with Tasha following behind. She stopped as she reached the water's edge. Once she saw what the ghost was chasing, she cried, "Marcus! Watch out!"

I was so close to the light. I recognised the spot - it was where the weeds grew dense and had kept our team from winning the race. I turned and got a good look at the guy. In the dark, he was a shadow, but when the moonlight hit him, his skin warped and twisted like it was a liquid, exposing bones and rot. His eyes were sunken and black, weeping with fluid that stained his tattered clothes and dripped off his feet.

Before he could grab me, I swallowed a deep breath and dove. Out of his reach, I swam down to the light, grasping for whatever the source was. The weeds wrapped around my arms and legs, yet I slipped through. The temperature dropped. Cold sank into my bones. When my fingers found something solid, I grabbed it, and turned my body up, heading for the sky. Just as my vision started to blur, I broke the surface, drinking in air as fast as my lungs would fill. I held the thing I had found towards the revenant, and he froze, watching me. Behind him came the sound of a rowboat heading towards us.

I looked at the thing in my hand. A human skull. Despite how sick it made me, it seemed to calm him down, distracting him long enough for Tasha to sneak up behind him, and run her knife through his chest. He unravelled into threads, drifting away on the wind. Tasha held out her hand and helped me onto the boat, the skull cradled under my arm. I stared at it, then at her, and she rowed us back to shore.

After I collected my clothes, we headed back to camp.

"I had heard..." she began, "there was a rumour. A group of teens came here years ago, and lured a homeless man to the lake - told him a child was drowning. Maybe Billy reminded him of one of those teens."

"Do you know what his name was?"

She shook her head. "I only heard it because my dad keeps his ears to the ground for such things. He checked the camp before sending me. Strange occurrences, lights flickering. This was my first solo mission."

"Poor guy." I stared at the skull. "You really have to be a strong swimmer to get out of those weeds, especially when the cold hits you."

"I know..." She sighed heavily. "My parents always say we can't get too attached in our line of work. We have to prioritise the living. If the dead start attacking, we have to put a stop to it by whatever means we have." I watched as she turned the blade over in her hands.

"What happens to them when you... you know?" I mimed a stabbing motion.

"I don't know. Helps them move on, I guess."

"Surely there are better ways-"

"Marcus, don't you see? We can't afford to hesitate. Hesitation is how people like Billy get hurt, or people like you end up dragged into it. I've been training since childhood. You got lucky this time. Trust me, I've seen far worse."

I didn't argue with her any further. Yeah, lucky. I thought of the poor man and how scared he must have been. I couldn't blame him for being so angry. That guy had gone into the lake in all his clothes... thinking a child was in danger. And I held his skull in my hands.

When we got back to camp, the councillors were awake and I saw blue and red lights flashing from outside the gate. A paramedic was seeing to Billy, all the kids were up - hanging around, wrapped up in their blankets, and a police officer was talking with the camp leader. The councillors of course shouted at us, demanding to know where we'd run off to. When they saw the skull, two of them fainted.

I explained the situation to the police, leaving out the whole ghost debacle. Tasha had spotted some creep around the cabin and chased him off. I'd followed her to the lake. I thought I saw something under the water, and gone to get it. The guy was long gone. I gave them parts of a description - claimed it had been too dark to see anything.

The camp was closed for investigations, and we were all sent home. I never told anyone what really happened, but Tasha and I stayed in touch. Her parents were furious with her at first. Eventually, they came around, inviting me on their next trip, so I could learn the craft for myself.

I searched every record for who the man had been, and turned up a single mention on a blog post - from an older woman asking about the man who used to feed the ducks at a local pond. The next time I met up with Tasha, I said, "The revenant at camp. His name was Thomas."