Camp Wacko: The Drones of Summer (18 page)

“It wouldn’t surprise me if they already did.”

I started to pace, thinking. “What about your mom? I thought she died when you were seven.”

He stood up as well. “That’s what I thought until about a week ago. Turns out she’s been in a coma all these years. She’s practically brain dead. The machines are the only thing keeping her alive. My father has been trying to come up with the technology to wake her up. According to him, he’s found it. There’s a catch, though. He’ll only use it if I cooperate. If I show any sign of resistance…she’s dead. Gone forever.” He ran a slow hand through his hair. “I don’t even know where he’s keeping her.”

I was speechless, feeling like I had been punched in the stomach. There was too much going on. Too many variables. His father had us backed into a corner.

“You still haven’t told me what you meant a few days ago when you were accusing my father of something to do with Cameron,” Dustin commented after a while, breaking the long silence.

“I don’t think you want to know,” I muttered.

Dustin’s hands balled into shaking fists at his sides in obvious frustration. “Of course I want to know! It’s about her death, isn’t it? I’ve told you everything. Now it’s your turn. What do you know?”

I glared at him. “Fine. Your father killed Cameron. She was getting better, but he thought she would be too much of a distraction for you, so he killed her. I had recorded it all, but now I have nothing. He’s going to get away with all of this. And if what you said is true, he’s going to get everything he wants. Happy now?” My voice began to quiver. “Can’t you see it? He is doing all of this for you. I’m here because he wanted a suitable partner for
you.
He is building up this army for you to command with me by your side. He got rid of Cameron because…” I stopped myself from finishing the sentence when I saw the look on his face.

Devastation had hunched his shoulders, instantly aged his features.

“Go on,” he said, voice scarily calm.

I just shook my head. “Dustin—”

“Say it!” he shouted, taking a step toward me. “Cameron’s dead because of me. I practically killed her.”

I held up my hands, trying to calm him down. “Dustin, your father is crazy. You can’t be blamed for what he’s done. I didn’t mean to imply that…I just need you to understand how your father works. He thinks he’s doing something good, but he’s not. We both know that, and you need to help me stop it.”

Dustin barked a laugh. “Don’t you think I know that?

I’ve been living with the man my entire life. In a way he’s like a child. A crazy child.” He took out a black velvet box, staring at it. “I don’t think I can help you, Lily. I only seem to cause more damage. If we try to stop him and fail, my mother is dead. I can’t have someone else’s life in my hands.”

He flipped the box open and I caught my breath. I had seen this ring before, in the box under Dustin’s bed. Still, its beauty amazed me.

“Dad wanted me to do this properly,” he growled.

To my great dismay, he wasn’t done. He began to lower himself down onto one knee. The words rushed out of him before he could think better of it. He didn’t look at me as he asked. He couldn’t. I admit it, I had pictured someone proposing to me once, but it had been a silly daydream and I knew I was way too young. Besides, never had I imagined such a morbid proposal.

I couldn’t say it. I knew it was one simple word, but it wouldn’t go past my lips. Dustin finally looked up at me.

Forcing a less than convincing smile, he slipped the ring onto my finger. I stiffened. Strange. His mother’s ring fit me perfectly. I supposed the size had been altered just for me. The jewelry glistened in the sunlight. Though the ring really was quite breathtaking, I immediately wanted to take it off and throw it as far away as possible. Of course I was too chicken to do this, afraid of what the reaction would be. It wasn’t really mine to get rid of anyway.

“It’s beautiful,” I whispered, watching the colors dance across my fingers.

Dustin’s smile was a little more genuine this time, but it didn’t light up his face. “I know. We should be heading back now.”

Together, we left the safe haven of the woods and stepped back into the real world. As I returned to the sound of marching feet and the shouts of drill orders, I felt more alone than I had ever felt in my entire life.

Change of Plans

THE DAY OF the ceremony arrived far too soon, surprising me. Everything was going way too fast. Seamstresses and designers swirled around me in a flurry of fabrics and lacy ribbons. Half of the time I didn’t even know what they were doing. I just sat there while they worked.

My hair had been straightened and now swept down past my shoulders in thick bouncy strands. They slipped me into a beautiful dress made of cream-colored satin and lace. My light makeup emphasized the beauty in youth. That’s what the makeup artist said anyway.

I wondered how much she had been paid to keep quiet about preparing a fifteen-year-old girl to be bound to marriage. Or did she know? Did any of them know I was being forced to go through with this? Some of them must have known. They worked for the man, after all. It doesn’t take long to see him for what he truly is. Crazy.

Finally they left me alone to stare at my reflection. A tiara rested on the top of my head, light and elegant. A long pearly white veil trailed back from it. The sleeveless dress took my breath away. Diamonds and beads had been sewn into the lacy cream bodice. A satin ribbon was wrapped tightly around my waist and tied into a bow at my side. The skirt fanned out in layers of silk and chiffon lace. The makeup aged me, but not that much. I was still too young to really pull off the stunning dress. A sparkling diamond necklace shimmered against my collarbone. The panicked expression contorting my face threw everything off.

At this moment, I wished above all else that my mother could be there. She would tell me what to do. My heart raced. I could feel it pounding against my chest. Noticing my shaking hands, I shoved them into my pockets. (According to the designers, pockets were all the rage.) This all seemed like an awful lot of preparation for just a pledge. At this age we couldn’t be legally married. Could we?

There was a soft knock on the door, letting me know that the time had come. This was it. I took a deep shaky breath before making the long scary journey to the altar.

The ceremony was being held behind the guest cabin. A white altar and chairs had been set up, just like a real wedding. As I descended the back steps of the cabin and began to walk down the aisle, the famous march from Lohengrin began to play. Dr. Wacko obviously wanted to make this seem as real as possible. I held on tight to a bouquet in my hands, choking the life out of the poor flowers. I couldn’t have told you who put them there, for I was too dazed. Part of me still didn’t fully know what was going on.

The attendants were mostly made up of the school staff. In the front row sat Dr. Wacko himself, grinning like a fool. To my surprise, True sat right beside him. She shot me a look of pity as I passed, her hands tightly clasped in her lap. All eyes were on me as I climbed the three steps to the altar. I tripped over the dress more than once.

I faced Dustin. Handsome in his crisp black tuxedo, curly hair combed to perfection, he studied me for a second.

The fear must have been plain on my face, because he flashed me a reassuring smile. Although he kept up the facade of perfect ease, I could see through the cracks. There were dark circles under his eyes. He kept wringing his hands, eyes slightly unfocused. The minister had been flown in from another country. He began to speak in a thick accent, asking us to kneel. We obeyed, clasping each other’s hands as we had practiced. I didn’t really listen until we had to say our vows. We both recited them without much feeling. My voice stayed monotone, pronouncing every word as quickly as I could. Really I just wanted to get this whole thing over with. Dustin seemed to feel the same way.

The quack pastor turned to me, holding six white cords. “Do you, Lilith Mason, promise to stay faithful to this young man until the day you truly wed?”

I reluctantly answered yes and the minister draped a cord over our interlocked fingers. And so the first binding was made. He asked Dustin a similar question before asking us both if we would share each other’s pain and seek to ease it as best we could. Dustin and I exchanged a few raised eyebrows before answering yes. The second binding was made. The pastor asked another round of questions, laying down the third, fourth, and fifth cords with each “I will.”

Finally the last cord was left. He held it high above his head for all to see. Dustin and I were about to be officially bound together until we were old enough to properly marry. My only hope was in the lack of legality of this silly ceremony. If my plans to get out of here went well, then I wouldn’t ever have to undergo the real one.

“Do you, Lilith Mason, agree to honor your future husband and stand by his side in times of battle? Will you seek to never break that honor in any way?”

Battle? Suddenly I could not find my voice. “I…I…” Dustin watched my face, coaxing me with his eyes to go on.

“Yes, I will.” A huge lump formed in my throat, making it hard for me to breathe.

Now it was Dustin’s turn. The pastor asked him a similar question. We all watched him expectantly.

“I…,” he began, a tiny smirk forming on his face.

Why would he be smiling, now of all times? I didn’t know about him, but I was definitely not enjoying this experience at all. I wished he would just hurry up already instead of dragging it out. It was like he was trying to torture me.

“. . . can’t,” he finished, his smirk growing into a full-blown grin.

I blinked, wondering if I had heard him correctly. Had he just objected to his own pledge ceremony? I figured the audience was thinking the same thing. They all sat frozen in their chairs, transforming into perfectly carved ice sculptures.

Dustin stood up and I followed suit; the white cords fell to our feet. He turned to face the crowd. I did the same and nervously eyed the guards standing at the ready by the cabin, eyes trained on our every move. I didn’t even dare to look at Dr. Wacko. I was guessing he was not happy about this sudden change of plans. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. True had slowly stood up, ignoring her master’s heated command to sit down.

“There will not be any ceremony today,” Dustin announced, staring directly at his seething father. “My dad, the great headmaster of this school, has been pulling all the strings for a little too long. I think it’s about time we change that.”

A few of the guards had started to advance toward us, their trusty tranquilizer guns in hand. I noticed that True reached for hers as well, watching Dustin as he spoke. Before anything could be done, Dr. Wacko held up his hand, signaling everyone to stop.

“How do you plan on managing that, my son?” he asked, genuinely interested in what he had to say.

Dustin merely looked past him and out toward the cabin. Suddenly coming to life, everyone turned to see what had captured his attention so quickly. Marching two-by-two in perfect formation, legions of child soldiers spilled through the cabin’s back doors, ignoring the startled cries of the guards and the ceremony attendants. Their faces resembled blank sheets of canvas as they surrounded the perimeter.

Joe A-1, a.k.a. Benjamin, paraded right down the aisle, halting at the foot of the altar.

He didn’t show any signs of recognizing me as he saluted Dustin. “Standing by for orders, Commander.”

The rest of the army mimicked their leader. The crisp sound of crumpling fabric filled the air as they brought their hands up to their foreheads as a sign of respect for their newest commander.

Dustin gave an answering salute, standing a little taller and squaring his shoulders.

“Joe A-1, stand down,” Dr. Wacko demanded, finally rising from his seat.

The boy did not stand down. Nor did he turn around to acknowledge his former master. His back remained turned as he looked to Dustin for the next order.

“They only answer to me now,” Dustin muttered, kneeling down to whisper something in Benjamin’s ear. He spoke so softly even I couldn’t hear him.

When he stepped back, the young lieutenant sprang into action, yelling for his soldiers to detain Dr. Wacko and the others.

Dustin took my hand again, urging me to run. We flew down the altar steps, legs pumping in nearly perfect unison as we headed for the trees. A group of the child drone soldiers broke away from the chaos to fall behind us, watching our backs as we ran. In the background I could hear Dr. Wacko’s angry cries for his former loyal recruits to stop.

A terrible screeching filled the air, grating against my eardrums relentlessly. A few of the guards had escaped to chase us down the hill, shouting in vain for us to stop running. Like that was gonna happen!

Dustin shouted orders, and the soldiers at our left flank dropped behind to stall them while the rest stayed with us. There was no time to look behind us to make sure the guards had really been stopped. There wasn’t even time to think.

After what felt like a millennium of running, the tree branches finally welcomed us with open arms. Every part of me warned me to stop, spasms of agony ripping through my abdomen. Of course there was no stopping. The sound of gunshots penetrated the usual silence of the forest. I had the sense that this was the real deal. If we got hit by one of those, we’d probably be put to sleep for good, if you know what I mean.