July 27, 7:00 A.M. James Madison High School, Band Room

All of the freshmen stood in a clump-like group, talking amongst themselves, while all the other high schoolers stood in another clump.

The band director looked at her new freshmen, and said, "Hello there! I hope you you excited! Today begins the start of a fantastic experience! My name is Bethany Andrews. You may have seen my sister, Adrian, on television in years past after being involved in a case."The freshmen muttered to themselves, curious.

"I am your band director! As most of you were in band last year, you probably remember how band works. But there are some new things you will need to learn this week and next week. First, let me introduce you to your Drum Majors."

Bethany pointed to two men, standing on either side of her.

She explained, "The guy on my left is Peter VanRoeckel. He is a senior this year. The man on my right is named Greg Hanson. He is a junior. Both of of the Drum Majors will help you this year. They will be conducting for you during our performances. And now, would you form lines by section?"

She guided all of the kids into lines, separating them into the sections of Flute, Clarinet, Trumpet, Mids, Trombones, Baritones, Lows, and Drumline.

Bethany continued, "Section leaders, form a small circle."

The section leaders did just as they were instructed.

"Very good. Now, freshmen, the first thing you will learn is the call to attention. Watch the section leaders carefully. When I clap my hands 4 times and say, 'Band ten hut', respond by pulling your right foot to your left, and standing up straight, and say, 'Attack!"

She clapped her hands 4 times, and said, "Band ten hut!"

In response, the section leaders all brought their right foot to their left, and yelled, "Attack!"

The freshmen then practiced doing it a few times. After that, Bethany announced, "And now, you will get to see who your section leader is!"

"Flutes, your section leader is Olivia Mazak. Clarinets, your section leader is Jordan Peterson. Trumpets, Harry Anderson. Mids, Reed Hoshaw. Trombones, Fred Ritter. Baritones and Lows, Amy Teig. Finally, Drumline's two section leaders are Dallas Harding and Bull Trier."

The freshmen all assembled into their sections. The other high schoolers joined them. Olivia remarked, "Don't forget that we are still important, despite being quiet!"

Jordan Peterson chatted it up with her section.

"As clarinets, our main job is to sound pretty. We are not designed to try and out blast the trumpets."

This seemed to make the two male clarinet players, one a sophomore and the other a freshman, to snarl under their breath. They wanted revenge badly against the trumpets.

Greg Hanson yelled, "All right, clarinets! Now let's not sound like dying geese when playing!"

Harry told his section, "We are the heart of the band. We are supposed to play out and be awesome!"

Hoshaw sneered, "Look at us. We could wage a war with those trumpets if we tried."

Fred sighed, "Why are we stuck with playing the parts that are really not noticed?"

Amy agreed with him and said nothing. Dallas and Bull explained that because they tied in section leader try-outs, they both led the section.
The rest of the day went on smoothly, and the kids got out of band camp at 3:00 in the afternoon. They really couldn't wait for what else band camp had in store for them later on.

July 29, 8:15 A.M. James Madison High School, Boy's Locker Room

Casey Bullard had walked into the locker room to get out all of his stuff out of his locker, which was Number 234. He twisted the lock right, then left, and finally back to the right again, which revealed his trumpet case, his "nail bag" (which was just a utility belt with clothespins attached) and his drill charts.

After collecting his things, he was about to leave the room, a bizarre odor caught his olfactory nerves' attention. It smelled like old pennies that had been left in a car for weeks. He looked towards the other section of the locker room, and the smell became stronger.

He walked closer, and found a tuba case lying near a few lockers. It reeked with the penny-like scent. In curiosity, he put his hands on the top. Now trembling with fear, he slowly undid the latch and pulled the sides apart. Inside did not lay a glistening, shiny tuba.

Instead, he found a young man. He was not moving at all, and his eyes were closed tightly. Blood was flowing from a small wound to the back of his head. The metallic odor of blood filled the air around him, causing him to choke and cough of the smell of bloodshed.

He burst out, "MY GOD! SOMEBODY CALL 9-1-1!"