Authors: J. Scott Savage
Case File 13 #3
To our border collie, Pepper. There was never a more faithful or friendly dog. I hope there are lots of juicy bones for you in heaven.
Come in. It's late, but I've been waiting for you. How did I know you'd come back? Your kind always does. Oh, you might tell yourself that the last adventure was too dreadful, too horrifying. You might convince yourself that you're done delving into mysteries that can only be solved after dark. But eventually you are drawn by an irresistible hungerâa hunger for the unknown. A hunger that can only be satisfied by what we both seek.
I notice you keep looking at my mirror. Is it just me or does it almost appear as though the figure behind the glass is not your reflection at all, but a darker version of yourself, watching you with terrible eyes?
But never mind. I'm sure you're tired of listening to an old man babbling about his fears. Doubtless you're dying to know what is happening to the three boys whose adventures I've been carefully documenting in Case File 13.
It seems they are off on a camping trip. One to the forest, and no ordinary forest at that. The woods are dark placesâsome even older than Iâfull of legends, mysteries, and creatures never seen by the eyes of men.
At least, no men who lived to tell the tale . . .
Saturday morning was the perfect day for a campout. The sky was blue and, although it was early December, the temperature was nearly sixty-five degrees. Nick and his friends Carter and Angelo had been looking forward to this trip ever since Nick's dad announced it. But now Nick was afraid the trip was going to end before it even got started. Mom was digging through the gear in the back of the car like a cat hunting a mouse, while Dad complained from the driveway behind her.
“Did you bring the sleeping bags?” Mom asked, pushing aside a stack of air mattresses.
“Of course,” Dad said, hands on his hips.
“First-aid box?”
“Complete with snakebite kit, instant ice packs, and suture set.”
Mom looked through a grocery bag, set it aside, and examined every canteen individually.
“Is she always like this?” Carter whispered.
Nick stepped away from the SUV so his parents couldn't overhear him. “Dad's got kind of a reputation for forgetting things when we go camping.”
Angelo pushed his new glasses up on his nose and peered toward the car. “What
kinds
of things?”
“Well, once he brought a whole bunch of fancy dehydrated food but nothing to cook it in.”
“How bad could that be?” Carter asked, dumping a pack of cherry Pop Rocks into his mouth.
Nick made a face. “Ever tried sucking on a mouthful of dried shrimp Rangoon,
waiting for it to get soft enough that you could chew it? Trust me, it's not pretty. Another time he packed the tent but forgot the spikes. In the middle of the night, this freak storm picked up the tent and rolled us all down the side of a hill into a lake.”
Angelo's eyes widened in alarm. “Maybe I'll go help your mom check on things.”
Carter stuck out his tongue to make the candy in his mouth pop louder. Red-colored saliva splashed from his mouth with each pop.
“Dude, stop spitting,” Nick said. “That's disgusting. And what's with the hair?” Carter was always changing his hair color. One month it was neon green, the next it was blue. But this was the first time he'd ever dyed it black with white down the middle.
“Zebra stripes,” Carter said, swallowing the Pop Rocks. “Tell me it's not the coolest yet.”
“
It's not the coolest yet
,” Nick repeated. “I hate to tell you, dude, but you look like a skunk.”
“That's cool too,” Carter said, opening another bag of Pop Rocks. “Are we still planning on making s'mores?”
“Yeah,” Nick said. “We're making s'mores. I made sure Dad packed the marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate.” Sometimes he wondered if Carter was able to stop thinking about food for more than a minute or two at a time.
“Well?” Dad asked, holding his hands palms up as Mom climbed from the back of the car. “Are you ready to apologize and admit I didn't forget anything this time?”
Mom brushed her hands on the front of her jeans. “I'm not apologizing until we actually set up camp. But I can't see anything you missed.”
“Never doubt genius,” Dad said, closing the hatch. “Let's go, everybody. It's time to set sail on the adventure of a lifetime.”
“I think we've had
more
than enough adventures to last a lifetime,” Mom muttered under her breath. “I'd settle for a nice, normal campout.”
“
Normal?
” Dad grinned, clearly elated by his victory. “Were Lewis and Clark satisfied with normal? Did Cortés want a simple campout? Was Magellan scared of a little adventure?”
Angelo scratched the back of his head. “Actually, Magellan was killed by natives.”
Dad scowled. “Get in the car.”
“How come I have to sit in the middle?” Carter complained as the three boys slid onto the back bench seat.
“You're the shortest,” Angelo said.
Carter snorted. “Short people get no respect.”
Nick's dad started the car and pulled out of the driveway as Mom programmed the GPS.
“Where's the campground?” Angelo asked.
“Near Santa Cruz.” Mom craned her neck to look back at the boys. “I'm so excited to see the tide pools.”
“The tide pools are fascinating,” Angelo said. “And the monarch butterflies should be there for their winter migration.”
Angelo never failed to surprise Nick with his knowledge. Of course he knew everything there was to know about monsters, monster movies, alien abductions, and anything else paranormal. It was what had drawn the Three Monsterteers, as they called themselves, together in the first place. But he seemed to know about everything else, too.
“
Butterflies
?” Carter scoffed. “I'm planning on catching a mermaid. I brought a couple of Almond Joys. Mermaids go crazy for coconut.”
Nick's mom rolled her eyes and turned to face the front.
“Where did you hear that?” Angelo asked.
Carter shifted in his seat and pulled a small booklet out of his back pocket. “Right here.” He opened the book, which was called
Finding and Catching the Lovelies of the Sea
. “Mermaids are vegetarians by nature,” he read, “living primarily off of seaweed and algae. However, they have been known to crawl onto shore for a rare treat of fresh coconut.”
Angelo opened his monster notebook and started writing, but Nick shook his head. “What would you do with a mermaid if you caught one?”
“Drop out of school and take her on the road,” Carter said at once, as though he'd been giving it a lot of thought. “Do you have any idea what people would pay to see a live mermaid? I'd probably have to teach her to do stuff. You know, like card tricks, or juggling flaming chain saws.”
“I dated a mermaid once,” Dad said as he pulled onto the freeway. “Things went swimmingly at first. Then her scales starting rubbing me the wrong way andâ” Mom cut him off with a stare, and he quickly changed the subject. “Wait till you boys see my new camp stove. It's a beauty. Three burners, adjustable windscreen. It even has a built-in cook timer.”
Angelo nodded, clearly impressed. “What kind of fuel does it take?”
“
Fuel?
” Dad's face went white as he looked toward the back of the car.
“Tell me you didn't forget fuel for the stove,” Mom said.
Dad braked, hung his head, and got off at the next exit.
