"Floyd keeps trying to come over to my side!"

"No I'm not! He's lying!"

"Hey, stop trying to take it! It's my game!"

"Ow! Lloyd hit me!"

"He hit me first!"

"I have to go to the bathroom!"

Tim groaned and brought his hands up to his temples. He remembered his mother counting to ten many times before turning around to face him and Sarah during one of their bickering matches. Anytime she got quiet, he knew to be worried. It was the calm before the storm. Now, he suddenly realized why his mother would have to take those precious few seconds before entering the fray.

Luckily, Jason, the only other adult in the van, had much more experience with kids, being a three-time father himself, and took it upon himself to take charge. "Don't worry, guys, we should be there soon. If you guys don't behave, we won't have any s'mores tonight."

The chorus of "aww" from the back indicated that the boys would try to behave…for now.

Truth be told, Tim wasn't even supposed to be there. Between work and his writing, he hadn't had much time for the scouts and had become more of an adjunct troop leader, coming in only now and then to help out with the larger projects. He had been ready for a weekend of rest when the call had come from Jason. Ben, the other man who was to help out on the camping trip, had broken his leg while cleaning out his gutters and they needed two adults. After a little wheedling and pleading, Tim had begrudgingly agreed to help for the one-night trip. It had meant giving up a weekend, but he knew he would feel guilty if he didn't.

The kids were mostly good kids, if a bit rowdy. There were Lloyd and Floyd Robbins, a pair of 9-year-old twins who were almost exact matches. The only way to tell them apart was that Floyd had a scar under his right eye, the result of being pushed through a glass door during one of the boys' playful fights. Tim imagined if they didn't have that difference, the twosome would use their identical looks to get into even more mischief.

Next was Peter Coen, an eight-year-old red-headed kid who was tall for his age and had a thin frame. Of the boys, he was the most interested in nature, never afraid to touch, taste, or experience anything during his time with the troop. He was never without his binoculars, camera, and specimen jar (just in case he found something interesting). Tim could see him having a career in zoology one day.

Then you had Kim Lee, also eight, whose parents had come to the U.S. from Korea when he was a baby. They had signed him up for the WEBLOS, hoping it would aid him in his "Americanization" but he showed little to no interest in nature or camping. He was more interested in video games and his iPod. Tim couldn't remember the last time Kim didn't have his PSP in his hands, trying to get in a game during most of their activities. Troop leaders had confiscated his electronics, but he always seemed to come back with more, like he had a never-ending supply stashed away somewhere.

The last of their party was seven-year-old Riley who mostly kept to himself. The youngest of their group, he was mostly ostracized by the other boys, sometimes even taunted if they didn't think an adult was within ear-shot. Tim didn't know much about him, other than the fact that his parents were both dead and he lived with his grandmother. Riley just scrunched himself up in the nearest corner and waited until she came to pick him up. If he'd ever uttered more than three words, it hadn't been while Tim was around.

"Are we gonna see bears?" Peter asked from the back of the van.

Tim shook his head. "Doubtful. This isn't really the place for bears."

Peter let out a "tsk" in disappointment. "Well, then what's the point of even going?" he grumbled.

"There will be plenty of other things for us to enjoy," Jason assured him.

"Ew! Riley's sucking his thumb!"

Tim glanced in the rear-view mirror and caught sight of a sheepish Riley staring back, thumb securely in his mouth. Floyd—the one who had announced it to the van—was looking on with disgust. "What a baby!"

"Leave him alone," Tim said in a firm voice. He thought Riley was a little old for thumb-sucking, but he wasn't hurting anyone. Besides, he saw a little of himself in the reserved seven-year-old.

They arrived at their campground with little incident and were directed to the space that had been reserved for them. The leaves were starting to change colors and fall from the trees, signaling the end of summer. As they rode by, Peter excitedly pressed his nose to the window, discussing everything he could possibly know about the autumn process, making even Tim and Jason antsy to reach their camping spot and get to work. The kids tended to be more manageable when they each had a task to do.

"The bathrooms and showers are over there," Tim said, pointing to a small building as they drove past. "But don't go alone. Let me or Jason know and we'll go with you."

"Bathrooms are for sissies!" Lloyd said. "My dad said when he was in scouts, they just went in a hole in the ground."

"Well, thank God things have changed since then," Tim muttered.

The clearing was small, but cozy, and only a ten minute walk from the lake where they could try their hand at fishing if they wanted. There was a small picnic table, a large fire pit, and space enough for three tents. It was only a little after noon, so the sun was still high in the sky. With luck, the night would be cool.

"Okay, guys, start unloading things from the back," Jason instructed once they had parked the van. "Floyd and Lloyd, I want you guys to help Mr. McGee start setting up the tents. The rest of us will put away food and sort the perishables from the non-perishables and we can start putting together a lunch."

Tim took one of the smaller tents and began taking out the pieces while the twins did the same with the other small tent. "Who's sleeping where?" Lloyd asked.

"Well, I guess you and Floyd can take a tent, the three younger boys can share the large tent, and Mr. Ferris will share the other small one with me."

"What?" Kim said, looking up from his video game for the first time in an hour. "I am not sharing a tent with Riley! He probably still wets the bed!"

"He's got that stupid stuffed elephant," Peter added. "He carries it everywhere! When we had the sleepover at the community center he wouldn't let go of it."

"Guys, we've only got three tents. Now I want you to stop acting like that and apologize to Riley."

"But we're not babysitters," Kim said.

"He's only a year younger than you are. Stop acting so superior."

Riley, through this, didn't say a word. He watched the argument with rapt attention, clutching his Spider Man backpack to his chest as though it was a shield of armor. Tim managed to catch his green eyes, which immediately went downcast in embarrassment.

"Come on," Peter pled, "we don't want to be stuck with the baby."

"Peter…" Tim began in a warning tone. Then he stopped and sighed. As much as he wanted to make sure these guys got along, he knew pushing them to accept Riley wouldn't help. If he forced them to tent with him, they'd probably resent Riley and take their frustrations out on him. "Fine. You both can tent with Mr. Ferris in the large tent. Riley and I will take the smaller one." Above the boys' heads, he saw Jason nod his approval. "Now stop bickering and get to work. The sooner we've got the tents up and eat lunch, the sooner we can get to the fun."

"That's right," Jason said. "We've got a short hike and some fishing on the agenda. Then we'll gather wood for a fire and maybe we can tell scary stories."

"Scary stories?" Riley asked. His voice made them all jump slightly, as it was the first thing he'd said all day.

"Yeah," Lloyd said as he turned to Riley. A sly grin slipped over his face. "Like Maniac Max!"

"Who's Maniac Max?"

"He's the maniac who lives in these woods. They say he lures kids into the lake and drowns them. Then, he eats their organs 'cuz he thinks it'll make him live forever."

"Yeah," Floyd jumped in, "and he 'specially likes seven-year-olds since they're so young."

Riley's eyes grew wide and he immediately popped his thumb in his mouth.

"I think that's enough about 'Maniac Max,'" Tim said before the twins went any further in their sick tale. "I think it would be better to stick to simpler stories tonight."

"But, Mr. McGee, we need to warn him!"

"You don't need to warn anyone. There is no such thing as Maniac Max or any other monsters in these woods." He turned to Riley and, in his most assuring tone, stated, "There is nothing in these woods that's going to hurt you."

And that was the end of that for the time being.

The group had just returned from a hike that had taken longer than expected, thanks in part to Lloyd and Floyd reading the map upside down, as well as Peter veering off the track to hunt for bears. By the time they reached the camp site, it was nearing dark and they were all tired and hungry.

"Okay, guys," Jason huffed as he fell onto one of the benches, "let's spread out and look for fire wood. It'll start to get dark soon, so I don't want anyone going out alone. Now, Floyd, Lloyd, and Riley: you guys go with Mr. McGee. Kim and Peter with me. Okay?"

"Maybe we'll run into Maniac Max," Floyd whispered as their group ventured off.

"Floyd!" Tim snapped. He was on his last nerve with the rambunctious boys and their scare antics. The mosquitoes were biting and he wanted to get back to camp as quickly as possible. He'd turn in early and wait until morning. So much for his weekend.

"I've got to go," Riley mumbled.

"What?"

"Bathroom."

Tim winced. "Oh." Most of the boys had relieved themselves during the hike—much to the delight of the twins—but Riley had held back, especially when Peter started talking about poison ivy, ticks, and other creepy crawlers in the woods.

"C'mon, we need to get wood," Lloyd whined. "Just go in the bushes."

Riley shook his head. "No, I want to go in the bathroom."

"You're such a wuss."

"Okay, okay," Tim said. "Lloyd, you stay here and help me look for wood. Floyd, take Riley to the bathroom. Just hurry back, okay?" The sky was already starting to darken. "Don't mess around."

"Fine," Lloyd said in resignation, "Come on, squirt."

After they went off in search of the bathroom, Tim and Floyd kept up the search for firewood, with Floyd grabbing sticks and handing them off to Tim. When ten minutes passed and there was no sign of the boys, Tim began to get antsy. When another five went by with no return he looked warily at the darkening sky above. Finally, a couple of minutes he saw Lloyd quickly approaching…alone.

"Where's Riley?"

"I don't know. I was just fooling around with him. He ran off."

"Ran off?" Tim's heart skipped a beat. "Just what did you do?"

"Well…I kind of waited until he came out of the bathroom and jumped out and scared him. I found this axe near the building and I guess it really scared him. He screamed and ran."

To his credit, Lloyd looked appropriately worried and ashamed, but it didn't stop Tim from feeling the steam rise inside of him. "I told you to knock that stuff off! Now he could be anywhere."

"I'm sorry…I didn't think…"

"No, you didn't," he snapped. "You two go back to camp—straight back there—and wait for Mr. Ferris to get there with Kim and Peter. We'll have a talk later about why this was so incredibly stupid."

With that, he turned and stalked off in the direction of the bathrooms. With luck, Riley had retreated back there and was now waiting for someone to come get him.

Riley didn't know where he was. He didn't even know how long he had been running. He had just seen the axe and his instincts had kicked in, taking him as far away from it as he could go. Now he was lost and it was getting dark.

He wished he had Mipsy with him. Sure, most of the boys his age didn't have stuffed animals anymore, but somehow having that stuffed elephant with him just made him feel safer, like it was some sort of guardian angel. He didn't mind that the others picked on him for it; he couldn't bring himself to give Mipsy up.

He kept walking, hoping he'd run into someone nice who could help him. Gram Gram had always told him not to talk to strangers, but he figured this was one of those exceptions, like talking to a police man.

As he walked, he could make out the faint sound of voices nearby. That was a good sign…unless it was Maniac Max. Just to be safe, he tiptoed toward the voices and waited to see who it was before announcing himself.

"Look, I have to do what's right!"

"Stabbing your best friend in the back is right?"

"I'm not stabbing you in the back, man! I've given you every chance to come forward."

"It was just a little bit now and then."

"Dude, Connor ended up in the hospital because of you! He'll never serve again either. But you don't care about that."

It was two men, that much Riley could tell. When he got close, he positioned himself behind a tree and peeked out. There was a black pick-up truck nearby and two men standing there, near the creek. One of the men had a buzz cut and was wearing some kind of military uniform. The other man had short hair too, but he was just in jeans and a T-shirt, with a light jacket on, his hands shoved in the pockets. They looked like they were arguing about something and Riley didn't know if he should interfere.

"Do you know what this could cost me, Theo? They'll kick me off the force. Sandy will leave me for sure."

"You did this to yourself! Stop blaming your mistakes on everyone else." The other man—Theo, Riley guessed—tried to step around his companion. "Now, is that what you dragged me out here for or do you actually have something to say?"

"Oh, I've got plenty to say." With that, the man pulled out a gun and aimed it at Theo.

"Whoa! Man, what are you—?" Theo barely had time to finish that thought before the gunman fired three shots from the gun, each hitting him in the chest. He fell back into the water and only let out a short, sputtering gasp before sinking down and becoming motionless.

Riley heard a scream and soon realized it was him. The man turned to face him and their eyes locked for a moment. Riley shivered as he stared into those dark brown eyes. Without another thought, he retreated back into the woods, running even more quickly toward the bathrooms as he had away from them. He heard only one gun shot, but didn't even notice as it whizzed past his ear, embedding itself into a nearby tree. He just kept running, not even bothering to look where he was going.

He had just seen someone get killed. Hadn't he? The other guy had shot that man. And the man had seen him, hadn't he? Would the man try to hurt him? What was he supposed to do now? He didn't want to die.

With a thud, he collided with something…or, rather, someone. A hand grabbed his and he screeched, pulling away as hard as he could. "Let me go! Let me go!" he cried, tears already streaming down his face.

"Riley, it's okay! It's just me!" Tim grabbed a firm hold of him and knelt down beside him. "Look, no one's after you. Lloyd was just playing a joke."

Lloyd? That man back there had not been Lloyd. "No," he whimpered. "There's a dead guy."

"What?"

"A guy shot him."

"Wait, are you saying you saw someone get shot?"

"I…I think so."

This couldn't be happening. Seven-year-olds were not supposed to witness murders, especially not during WEBLOS camping trips. There was nothing about this in the handbook. Tim was momentarily flustered. "Okay, uh, let's get you back to camp and we'll call the police, okay?"

But Riley shook his head."

"We have to call them. What you saw was a crime and it needs to be reported."

Riley muttered something softly.

"What was that?"

"I said 'He saw me.'"

"The shooter?"

He nodded. Tim groaned. This was not good.