Whispering Pines

Prologue: July 1994

Jennifer Evans could still taste the raspberry shimmer gloss she wore to her first week of summer camp. The smell of damp cedar hung heavy in the humid air. The bandana she had soaked in ice water wrapped tight around her neck as they readied for further instructions. Her mom’s car faded from sight down the dusty gravel road back towards civilization. Gate guard Rick locked the metal doors behind the last gaggle of parents, some of whom had never left a child at camp before. It would be four-weeks until she would see her mom again, promises of letters and care packages had been exchanged.

Baby bottles of diluted vinegar water sat on the edge of the dock, glistening in the sun. The name: Evelyn “Evie” Vance was forever memorialized in treated wood, a sign hung hauntingly low from a chained arch leading to the dock.

“Girls, the lake opens in ten-minutes. Go back to your cabins and get ready.”

From the heavy iron gates, Rick watched the girls walk towards their separate bunks, his eyes lingering on the low-hanging sign as he adjusted the keys on his belt. He knew it would be a matter of time before this summer’s group of campers began questioning the name, curious about the dead girl—but they too would only come to know the lie. There would be no way of knowing what had happened some eighty years before, when the pines were fresher and the soil held secrets longer than the counselors who had come and gone.

Chapter One: July 1920—Nightcrawler

The water from Lake Abyss was green, the sun reflected off the lilies and river stones as minnows swam unbothered and frogs leapt passed bobbing dragonflies. All was right in the world—which for the time being, had been painted in the glowing colors of dusk, sepia browns and terracotta corals, turning the skies a perfectly soothing shade of yellow.

Whispering Pines Girl Scout Camp had only been opened for six-years, and stories of haunted grounds and missing campers buzzed through the aging pines already. Campers bunking in treehouses and cots in cement buildings far removed from the Big-Cabin whispered of monsters in the lake, and killers lurking in the dark woods. The air was ripe for something to go catastrophically wrong.

Twelve-year-old Evie Vance huddled under her thin wool blanket. She was staying in the Lilly-pad cabins—a group of six evenly spaced buildings that looked more like barracks on a military installation than a camp for young girls. She listened to the older girls whisper. Their camp counselors slept in another cabin entirely, lights out. Only the glow of moon illuminated enough to make out shadows of trees whose branches scraped the window panes, her mind wandered far and wide, her body fully awake with the adrenaline of young fear. She was terrified of the cabin and the monsters they said hid in the lake.

Evie slipped out of her cot. She thought if she could just reach the bright, open clearing of the main camp office, she might be safe. Maybe the nurse was awake, and could call her parents, tell them she had made a mistake and was ready to come home. She would do anything to get out of this dark, decrepit place.

Once the chatter had settled, Evie carefully loosened the metal nail hook from its hole, opening the grated screen door. She was supposed to have a buddy if she had to use the bathroom, she hoped no one was paying too much attention as she crept out towards the tree line, nearest the winding dirt path.

She ran barefoot through the dark, cutting across the old, overgrown clearing. These buildings had been used for off-site training before the scouts acquired it in 1914—each of the buildings had twenty-foot pitched ceilings and roll-out windows. Two-light bulbs hung from rafters with pull-down chains; twelve girls slept foot to foot along each wall in rusty metal spring cots. The counselor cabin was more elaborate, an octagon shaped building of the same design, enough for eight women to sleep.

Evie took one hurried step, and the Earth gave way beneath her. She hadn’t seen the rotting, moss-covered timber planks hidden beneath the high grass.

Chapter Two: July 1920 –Angel

The rot-softened pine snapped like bitter kindling beneath her feet. She fell straight down into the narrow, suffocating stone basin of an old, unused well—where she landed in a pool of stagnant, waist-high water. Evie clawed at the slimy rock walls, but there was nothing for her to grab, nothing to hold onto. Her screams trapped her like a genie in a long-forgotten jar, muffled from within the tall blades of overgrown grass. The water chilling her bones as she grew quieter and quieter.

As morning approached and staffers were alerted, search parties scoured the grounds—searching the woods and the lake beds high-and-low. No one thought to check the over-grown clearing. By the time camp-counselors had found the splintered wood planks and the dark horrors held within, it was too late. The camp had only been open for three-days, and a tragedy of this nature, would ruin them.

Panicked, the camp director ordered the well to be capped. No one would know of what lay beneath as a thick slab of ornate concrete was fitted, sealing Evie into the well like a tomb. An angel sun-dial was placed on top to mark the spot, and to atone for what could not be undone.

Camp counselors told the families and the rest of the town that Evie Vance had simply drowned in the lake. Rumors of monsters and killers would swallow the truth as fact became fiction and her body refused to wash ashore. Decades later, when the landscape swallowed the well from sight, and the shoreline eroded, the camp built a wooden dock extension, bridging the gap, so campgoers could enjoy the makeshift beach, and run out into the deepest parts of the lake completely unbothered with any reality of what had taken place. Only a faint reminder of the life lost moved into the next set of decades. A wooden sign marked the threshold where the dock met the Earth— the name: Evelyn “Evie” Vance—just yards away from the sundial had persevered, adding to the mystery.

Chapter Three: July 1994 –Lake Monsters

Exactly eighty years to the day later, Jennifer Evans walked right past that heavy stone sundial, completely unaware of its existence, or what the day meant. The bronze Verdigris angel guarded the well, having grown green with patina, casting a long, jagged shadow directly at the sign on the dock. Ivy and other assorted vegetation crawled across the flat surface. Her mom had already sent a care package—a postcard with scratch-and-sniff stickers, some candy, and the latest book from her local library—the 94th book in the Nancy Drew Files Series: Illusions of Evil. She inhaled the pages, the dusty old smell reminded her of home.

A bell hung under the sign, undisturbed by the wind, calling for Jennifer to pull the lever.

“Don’t do that,” her cabin-mate Chloe Martin warned, adjusting her pink-crushed velvet scrunchie as she checked the time on her watch. “My older sisters came here in 88, 90 and 92. They told me all about this bell. It doesn’t mean swim-time is over. If you are still in the water, or near the lake at Last Call, the monster will trap you forever, just like it did that girl.”

Jennifer rolled her eyes as Chloe nodded up towards the sign. It was the fifth version of the story she had heard since gate guard Rick locked them into camp. Her lips were still sticky with raspberry shimmer gloss, her skin lathered with the pale cast of sunscreen, a towel on her shoulder as they headed under the sign. Late, as usual. It had taken them forever to get ready. Their neon one-piece bathing suits were not what they wanted to wear. It wasn’t as fashionable, but camp rules were camp rules.

“I am not going in the water today,” Jennifer mused, “besides, there isn’t a monster in Lake Abyss.”

“Are you sure…” Chloe whispered, jabbing Jennifer playfully— “where do you think the name came from?”

The thought did sit in Jennifer’s mind a little longer than she wanted to admit. It was woefully coincidental that a monster wouldn’t live in a lake named Abyss. It wasn’t something she wanted to think about as the water lapped under the gaps in the boards. Slowly pulling them further out from land. Jennifer looked back, Big-Cabin was behind them, gate-guard Rick stood by the sundial. He wasn’t looking at the girls, or the lake. His eyes were focused on the cracked concrete base. A tiny fracture had appeared in the ancient stone.

“Dinner will be in thirty minutes,” Lindsey piped up from a bench at the end of the dock. She was one of the camp counselors who seemed to work year-after-year, the oldest daughter of gate-guard Rick.

“You have time to read one chapter,” she warned, looking at Jennifer and Chloe as they laid towels onto the dried dock. A sign read fifteen-feet, how deep the water was at this exact spot.

Girls frolicked on Styrofoam pool noodles, floating aimlessly on the calm water, bobbing around the edges of the dock like fishing lures— splashing each other and playing mermaids, hoping to catch the attention of a neighboring boy-scout as they looked out towards Camp Wiley. Screams and laughter echoed for miles as the start of summer kicked off. All was right in this world, too.

Chapter Four: July 1994 –Bell Tolls

Clang-Clang-Clang

The harsh metallic sound of the bell shattered the humid afternoon air, putting an instant stop to their banter, drowning the sounds of fun as idle chatter drew to an end. Camp counselors blew their plastic whistles in rhythmic unison.

“Out, out, out!!!”

“Last Call,” Lindsey shouted.

“Hurry!! Everyone out of the water, head-count, line up on the docks now.”

Girls scrambled from the lake, grabbing to the wooden ladders as they pulled themselves up with a shiver.

“See?” Chloe whispered, her face darkening as thirty some-odd girls huddled in a line, counting off one-by-one.

“That was the final bell, for last-call.” Chloe continued, “my sister said they ring it just before sun-down, to signal the lake is unsafe to swim. They must have started doing it after that girl died.”

“Yeah,” another camper from Cabin One—Myah—whispered, “I heard if you are still in the water when the bell stops, she thinks you are there to replace her…”

Jennifer looked back towards the shoreline. Something caught her eye glistening in the brush, nearest where gate guard Rick stood watch.

“There are a lot of secrets in the bottom of this lake,” Myah added, pulling Jennifer’s attention back to the conversation at hand. “Besides, do you know what today is?”

Jennifer and Chloe both shook their heads.

“Today is the literal anniversary of Evelyn Vance’s disappearance. They say around midnight she went for a swim and never returned.”

Jennifer’s ears perked at the thought of such an intriguing mystery unfolding right in front of her. Maybe this camp would be more interesting than she thought.

“So, she didn’t actually die, she went missing?”

“Yes…” Myah continued, “It was the early 1920’s, the camp hadn’t been opened long. A girl named Evelyn Vance ignored the bell for last call. They say she wanted one last look at the stars, maybe to take a midnight swim, we don’t really know. Counselors checked the rooms when the girls woke up, couldn’t find her. Bed was empty. They searched the woods, they searched the water, everywhere until finally, they gave up. Nothing was ever found. They say a young girl was spotted in a white gown, barefoot, standing on this very dock, but…that is all just campfire stories. We don’t ever want to find out, they say if you are in the water after final bell, Evie’s cold hand grabs your ankle and pulls you down into the depths to stay with her, forever.”

Jennifer shuddered.

“That’s it, it’s settled, I will never be going in that water.”

“You have to,” Chloe added, “we all have to qualify for the lifeguards, you and I haven’t done that yet and we won’t be able to swim or get our summer aquatics badge if we can’t use the canoes.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Myah murmured. “No one has ever gone missing in all the years since. The water is fine, I promise.”

It was the perfect Are You Afraid of the Dark lore. Jennifer clutched the Nancy Drew book tighter to her chest as the girls talked through dinner. She could see the opening credits of her favorite show, the match blowing out, the creepy music. She felt just as alone as Evelyn Vance must have felt as night creeped in and she wondered where the young girl disappeared to at such a late, desperate hour, and why she was never found. The woods seemed to close in as the girls walked back to their campsite—Lilly-pad.

“You don’t find it strange that a girl disappears from a camp and no one finds a single trace of her?” Jennifer asked, leaning forward over the camp-fire. “Her parent’s must have been devastated.”

“I swear it is all those books you read. You would try to solve a case that no one else has been able to,” Chloe replied, waving a dismissive hand. The flames cast long, dancing shadows across each of their faces. Only fifteen or so girls remained up at this time. Most of the buildings around them had sounds of idle chatter and the glow of flashlights. Radios played from a distant bunk and discarded S’mores sat on napkins as the girls continued talking.

“Evelyn Vance stayed in your cabin,” Myah whispered, “Cabin three…one of you might be the unlucky one that has her bed...”

Chloe had a look of abject terror. Jennifer only grew more curious. A bolt of massive lightening ripped across the sky. Jennifer once more saw something glinting in the woods. A muted glow of something dark reflecting back, vanishing just as quickly as it appeared.

“Girls, rain is coming, please put the fire out and clear your trash. Off to your cabins. Head count in five-minutes.”

Chapter Five: July 1994 –The Storm

Midnight quickly approached, bringing with it the suffocating deluge of heavy rain. Lightening and booming thunder shook the grounds, rattling the cabin windows and obliterating any chance the girls had of a quiet sleep.

Jennifer wondered if Evie had experienced a night like this, she knew others in her cabin lie awake waiting for the storm to pass, but it could be hours. A rogue killer wouldn’t likely be lurking in this weather. The thought brought a sense of peace as she played back the earlier events of the evening. The crackling tenders of the campfire stirred an atmosphere she couldn’t shake, sending glowing orange shadows over the concrete blocks. Jennifer could vividly see the outline of an angel in the woods. A statue of some sort hidden in the trees. It didn’t make sense.

Was it a grave, long forgotten? The angel seemed sad, lonely, weeping, over what, though? The base cracked, begging for a closer look.

The girls were huddled in their oversized flannel shirts, Jennifer’s hair was in double braids, she could still hear Chloe’s wet sneakers on the concrete as the girls mused about what Jennifer had seen.

“Maybe it is nothing,” Chloe muttered. Parting ways with Myah as she headed back to her own cabin.

“It could be a memorial for Evie,” Jennifer added. “That would be strange, for it to be hidden in the woods, never talked about. Then today, gate guard Rick was standing near it, on the side by the Lake.”

Icy drops of rain pelted their skin as they sat up for hours, their beds pushed together as they talked amongst the stifling hair. On the other side of the cabin, others enraptured in their own conversations chatted quietly. She leaned closer, “Chloe, you have to come with me. I want to see what it is.”

Chloe had a look of amusement on her face, “are you kidding me, no way.”

“Just five-minutes, I swear.”

Jennifer zipped her hoodie—“there is something out there, under that stone, I can feel it.”

Reluctantly, Chloe nodded, putting her own shoes on as the girls slipped out into the blinding cover heavy rain.

Chapter Six: July 1994—Secrets Unearthed

Through the deafening downpour, Jennifer and Chloe sprinted parallel to the path toward the lake, wondering if Evie had cut through these same woods to avoid being seen.

By the time they reached the clearing, the statue was gone.

"There it is!" Chloe gasped.

The concrete basin had split open where the muddy bank eroded, exposing a dark well. Clutching a nearby tree, Jennifer leaned over the lip and shone her flashlight into the abyss. At the bottom, a small skeletal body lay submerged in murky water, her nightgown stained brown.

"She is here," Jennifer choked out, lightning flashing overhead. "She never drowned at the lake."

"She is looking for company," a deep voice boomed over the thunder.

The girls spun around. Gate guard Rick stood frozen in a dark green parka, his eyes hollow and unblinking. Then, without anyone touching the rope, the heavy iron bell began to chime in the distance, tolling a breathless Last-Call into the dark night—Jennifer swore she saw the skeletal hand in the mud slowly began to twitch.