He Started It(65)

Eddie had started working on Portia, trying to lure her over to their side. That’s what we had, opposite sides, and it had been that way for the whole trip. The groups changed, the power changed, but we had never been on the same side.

If you happened upon us at that moment, you never would’ve guessed all that. We gathered around Grandpa while he told gruesome ghost stories. Eddie tickled Portia, making her jump at the scary parts. All normal. But if you stayed too long, you might have noticed that Nikki’s hands were tied up.

That’s what Grandpa and Eddie did to her. She tried to run—tried to actually get out of the van as it was moving—but they stopped her. Tied her up so she couldn’t get out. She stayed that way until Grandpa untied her hands so she could eat.

So you might have seen the rope around her wrists, and you might’ve thought that was a little weird.



* * *



–––––

Today, no one is tied up or being held captive. In fact, it’s the opposite. We’re all fighting to stay here. But like last time, we’ve never been on the same side. Not since the trip started.

Halfway there, Felix yells, “Wait!”

Eddie slams on the brakes. We all look at Felix, waiting for him to say something. Instead he does something worse.

Felix slams his fist on the dashboard.

Just like that, I’m a kid again.

I’m at home, hearing Mom scream and yell and slam a door.

Then I’m back in the van watching Grandpa do the same thing. Hearing him say Shut The Hell Up all over again. I even feel the same level of fear, and I can’t move, can’t speak.

Violence always starts with the slam of door or a fist. It never ends there.

“What?” Eddie says to Felix.

“I forgot the soap,” Felix says. He sounds disgusted, probably at himself. “We don’t have any fucking soap.”

“Oh God,” Portia says. “We all stink already.”

“No worries,” Eddie says, patting Felix on the arm. “It’s all good. Without you, we wouldn’t have any of this stuff.”

He continues driving and Felix continues to be angry at himself. I find myself watching his hands, wondering if he’s going to punch the dashboard again.

The drive isn’t long, thank God, so there isn’t much time for anything else dramatic to happen. After Eddie parks the car and we gather our things, he barks out one more order. “Check your phones. I’m sure we won’t have service once we leave the road.”

We all pull out our phones. Three of us see the same e-mail from Grandpa’s lawyer.

    Dear all,

I hope your trip has been going well. I expect you’ll be done soon?

Just wanted to drop a line and let you know we’ve had your grandfather’s real estate valued. Assuming the real estate sells within 5 percent (plus or minus) of the appraised value, and that we sell the car for the average value of the make and model, the grand total of his estate is approximately $8 million. Rounded down, to be cautious.

I look forward to seeing you upon your return.

Regards,

Morton J. Barrie, Esquire



We all look up in unison. There might as well be a giant stack of money sitting at our feet, keeping us separated. It’s so much money, more than enough to survive getting downsized. More than enough to disappear and start a new life.

The game is no longer Secret Risk. This is the real deal, the original version where the winner takes all. I can see it in their eyes. Greed is a real, palpable thing you see, smell, even hear, and it’s all around me now.

But it’s most noticeable in Felix. His pale blue eyes have transformed into the color of money.

“All right, then,” Eddie says. “Let’s go camping.”





There’s a lot I remember about being in the woods, but there’s also a lot I don’t.

I remember walking through the woods, like we’re doing now. I remember the open space next to a lake. Or the reservoir, as Grandpa said it was called. The food, the campfire, the marshmallows, and the ghost stories. Last, the hot cocoa, made with a double helping of chocolate and a bunch of marshmallows so it was thick and creamy.

The next thing I remember was being woken up by the sun. It was fully up, so bright I closed my eyes as soon as the glare hit. I threw the sleeping bag over my head and stayed there, although I didn’t go back to sleep. I lay there for a minute until it hit me that everything was quiet. Grandpa usually got up early, but I didn’t hear him at all.

I poked my head back out, shading my eyes with my hand. Everyone was still in their sleeping bags.

I stayed in my bag until I had to get up and pee. All at once I unzipped the bag and threw it off. That’s how Mom always woke us up: She grabbed the covers and yanked. I put on my shoes and went into the woods. That’s when I first realized I didn’t feel well.

My head was heavy, almost like when I had a cold, but my nose wasn’t stuffy and I didn’t have a sore throat. Even as I moved around, I didn’t feel quite awake. Like my head was filled with sand.

Back at camp, everyone continued to sleep. Portia had kicked the top of her sleeping bag off. She slept with all her limbs splayed out like she had all the room in the world. Grandpa made the biggest lump under his sleeping bag, his grey hair sticking out on top. Eddie was snoring now, and he was loud. The only one I couldn’t see was Nikki. She was just a lump.