The Sign in the Smoke (Nancy Drew Diaries #12)(40)

“Yeah!” cried Cece, bouncing up and down.

“Another chapter, another chapter!” the other girls began to chant.

Harper still looked a bit dazed, but she shook her head, as if to snap herself out of it. “Sure,” she said quietly after a few seconds. “Let me just get it from my backpack.”

She did, and Maya handed her the powerful flashlight she’d brought to use as a reading light.

Soon Harper took us all to a fantasyland where unicorns kept the peace, dreams were used as currency, and a friendly dragon gave advice to humans. Harper’s soft voice against the pelting rain made for a super-soothing story. We all climbed into our sleeping bags, and even I felt my eyes drooping.

When Harper reached the end, she said, “That’s the end of that chapter,” closed the book, and put it by her pillow. Then she settled into her own sleeping bag. She looked much calmer than she had during Nina’s story.

“Good night, everyone,” I called, snuggling down. About half of the girls were asleep already, but the rest called, “Good night,” and in what couldn’t have been more than thirty seconds, I was fast asleep.



A silver-haired girl moved soundlessly through the forest, slipping through the trees like a breeze. She looked behind her nervously, like she feared she was being followed. Then she moved into the clearing, which opened out onto a black, mirror-smooth lake.

An owl hooted as she ran to the beach and silently slipped into the water. The cool water enveloped her quickly, but she had no problem staying afloat, or seeing in the bright moonlight. A single silver beam cut through the water, illuminating something on the black lake bottom. A shining pearl ring.

The girl’s eyes widened and she dived down to retrieve it. It slid easily into her hand, and for a moment she just stared at it, the pearl reflecting in her velvety black eyes. She smiled, relieved. Then, just as she cupped the ring in her hand and lifted herself in the water to swim back to the surface . . .

Something grabbed her around the neck. It was dark, a creature made of shadow and fangs, and it pulled her toward it, screaming. Alarm flashed in her eyes; she knew she was going to die. The ring fell from her hand. . . .



And I woke, my heart pounding a mile a minute.

“Nancy! Help!”

I gasped, terrified, trying to make sense of the darkness around me. Oh, right. I was in a tent with my bunk. It was the end-of-year campout. I must have just been having another nightmare. I tried to breathe in, to calm the hammering in my chest. I guess that ghost story affected me more than I thought. . . .

Then I remembered: Someone was calling for my help! Or were they? I listened hard but heard only silence. Even the rain had stopped.

Was I just hearing things?

I reached for the small flashlight by my bed and turned it on. I flashed the weak beam around the tent, counting each sleeping head: Maya, Kiki, Cece, Winnie, Katie, Nina . . .

And one empty sleeping bag.

I leaped up, angling to get a better look. Harper’s book still lay by her pillow, but the sleeping bag was rumpled and unzipped, as though she had recently left. I sat up, trying to quiet the clenching feeling in my stomach. She probably just got up to use the bathroom. It was raining and we didn’t go before bed.

Now the woods were silent. The rain seemed to have stopped.

As quietly as I could, I slid out of my sleeping bag and crept out of the tent. I briefly considered grabbing Maya’s higher-powered flashlight, but then decided against it. I’m only going to be a minute. She’s probably right on the edge of the woods, using the latrine we dug.

Outside the tent, the clouds had parted to reveal the moon, which was only a razor-sharp-looking crescent. I breathed in the cool night air and felt a bit better. Nothing to worry about.

I shone my flashlight on the narrow path that led away from the tents and into the woods. The latrine was just a few yards beyond the first trees. As I got closer, I heard human-sounding noises and felt a rush of relief wash over me. She’s just using the bathroom. No big deal.

I moved closer. “Harper?” I called, shining the flashlight toward the tree we’d dug the latrine behind. “Are you okay?”

“Hey!”

A voice that was decidedly not Harper’s cried out in alarm. “A little privacy, maybe? I’m not Harper! Sheesh!”

In my surprise, I couldn’t place the voice at first. But then it came to me. It was Janie, Bess’s CIT—aka Mini-George.

I backed away, feeling my cheeks burn. “Sorry about that! Sorry!” I stumbled back along the path to the cluster of tents in the clearing.

But if that isn’t Harper . . . where is she?

I was trying to quiet the fear that seemed to fill my veins with ice when I heard the voice again.

“Help me, Nancy! Please!”

It was undoubtedly Harper. And it was coming from a narrow path that led up the hill, farther into the woods.

I felt my heart speed up as I moved toward the path. I shone my weak flashlight beam ahead, but it barely penetrated the inky-black darkness. Just like in my dream, I thought.

And just when I thought I couldn’t be any more afraid, a hand reached out and grabbed me from behind.





CHAPTER FOURTEEN





A Deadly Plan


BEFORE I COULD SCREAM, THE figure that had grabbed me spoke. “Nancy, what are you doing?”