Chapter 1 - Long Night at Wannaweep
(...Cabin 13...Wednesday night...)
"He's out on the lake? My lake! How dumb can he be!"
As far as at least 3/4 of the Middleton cheer squad was concerned...they could tell him stories. But given the look on Gill's face - one that combined anger with a sort of wicked elation - story time would have to wait.
He takes off toward the lake, leaving the squad in the remains of Ron's old cabin, bound up in muck...
Wait? 'remains'? 'muck'? Perhaps it would be best to offer up an explanation. Otherwise, what's the point?
The squad was on its way to a competition when the tires on their bus blew out. They ended up stranded at Camp Wannaweep. The girls grew steadily more irritated with Ron's horrible memories. A creature watching from the bushes captured the girls. To Ron's surprise, the culprit turned out to be a former camper named Gil (no, actually, that should be Gill!). Ron refused to swim in the lake (polluted by toxic runoff from science camp), whereas Gil spent lots of time in the water. Ron had opted instead for Gil's arts and crafts time. Gill is not very happy with Ron about the situation.
Everybody got that? Okay...
Given the situation, there was a lot of despair in the cabin.
Maggie tries to stretch, but has some trouble. "Oh, man. Between cheerleading, yearbook, debate club and band practice, I never have time for myself, and now this."
Marcella sighs deeply. "Why does my family have to be so demanding? 'You have to stay home and baby-sit, Marcella.' 'Those dishes won't wash themselves, Marcella.' I've got five siblings! It'd be so nice to disappear, sometimes."
The attention of the girls turns toward Mr. Barkin, who had been attacked earlier. Stuck to a tree, the teacher had already started to mutate, and looked to be changing further.
"I'm getting gills!" Sure enough, little pockets had developed on his neck.
Bonnie couldn't help but shudder. "I hope Stoppable makes it back safe. I know I'm not the best person in the world, but wringing the neck of a dead man? Even I have my limits."
Hope moans a bit. "Is this how I want to be remembered? As just some cheerleader in high school? Why do I have to feel so...weak?"
Crystal develops a slight twitch. "My boyfriend never communicates with me. It's like I'd have to read his mind to get anything out of him. And my nose itches. This better not be part of the mutation."
Tara gazes toward the sky. "Oh, Ron. You have to make it back safe. I never got to tell you that I li...I luh...uhhhh. This wouldn't be so hard if I was more forward."
Liz lets out a low grunt. "Can't believe this. I have, like, three tests tomorrow and I haven't studied for one. What's the point? I'd probably fail them, anyway."
Kim looks at the chaos surrounding her. "How could this have happened? Maybe I don't always know what's best. I should've listened to Ron."
Mr. Barkin struggles to breathe; lung-wise, he was doing fine, but there was the matter of the gills. "Oh, if they had told me when I started there'd be days like this..."
The squad members, even Kim, couldn't help but feel downtrodden; on top of being duped into getting stuck at an abandoned camp where there was no cheerleading competition, their lives were in the hands of one man:
(...Lake Wannaweep...minutes later...)
Ron had found a speedboat. One would think that he could make a getaway. Fortunately, he was way too good a person for that. It was his hope that he could find some help.
The motor of the craft roared through the tranquil night air...at least for a while. The boat slows to a stop in the middle of the water. The teenager looks to the motor then to Rufus.
"Rufus, didn't you check to see if we had enough gas?"
The naked mole rat could only gibber nervously and offer a feeble "Uh-oh."
Bubbles rise from the port side of the boat. A sudden noise at the prow of the ship captures their attention. Something pops up from the lake. It's Gill!
"Hey, Ron. It's free swim!" The eyes of the former campers meet, determination present in both.
"You're on!", states Ron, with no small amount of confidence.
Gill tries to board, but Ron takes a breath and jumps into the water. Disgust registers on his freckled face. He surfaces and exhales.
"Okay, that water is way too funky!"
The creature surfaces. "You think?" He wades around Ron, almost like he was taunting him. "You can't win, Ronnie. This is my element!" Gill leaps at Ron and submerges him. Under the water, Ron is grabbed by his nemesis, but kicks him away and heads for the surface.
At that moment, a lariat ensnares Gill's leg. The blonde surfaces once more and pulls up the rope, tightening it. "And arts and crafts is my element."
"Hey!"
"Now, Rufus!"
Rufus kicks the motor, which starts the boat up. "Boo-yah!"
"What's going on? You were out of gas." Rufus surfs across the rope, one end tied to the boat and the other to Gill.
"Psych!", the little one shouts as he reaches the rope's end and dives into the water. The ride elicits a number of yells from the mutant.
Most likely unbalanced due to the extra cartage, the boat makes a turn, swinging Gill into a buoy and knocking loose its tires.
The craft flies up the docks and crashes into a cabin. Unusually enough, there had been plans to put in a sunroof. Now, there is one - free of charge...and style.
Ron and Rufus swim in the direction of the wreck.
The two friends shake off the excess of the water.
"Now, there is an experience I don't want to go through again."
"Yeah", seconds Rufus.
The two of them approach the cabin. "Well, Gill, looks like free swim is..." Ron's eyes goggle. He looks up at the wrecked cabin. He traces the rope from the back of the boat. Where there should be an irate, amphibious ex-camp mate, there is a frayed rope...with green muck at the end of it.
"This cannot be good."
Ron looks down and finds footprints; big, inhuman and dotted with muck, but footprints nonetheless. He looks ahead and finds that they lead into the forest.
"Perfect." The agitation in his voice is clear. He and Rufus carefully make their way into the woods.
It's a lucky thing for them the moon is out; it's the only thing resembling light that they can rely on. "Man, I wish I'd packed a flashlight, or some snacks. I'm starving."
The cracking of a branch startles them. Ron regains his composure. "It's probably nothing."
The rustling of some trees a few feet ahead convinces him otherwise. "He's definitely this way." He looks down to his pants pocket. "You with me, pal?"
Rufus raises a fist in excitement. "Yeah!"
The teenager rushes down the path. It wasn't too hard for him. He'd gone on a number of nature hikes through the forest. That he made it out in one piece each time, he attributed to luck. Some foolish courage helped, too.
As Ron picks a hunk of spider webbing from his hair and flicks it away, he stares at the building greeting his sight.
"Science camp."
Ron cautiously walks toward the structure. In truth, he had little to fear; the only occupants at the moment were maintenance men keeping the place tidy. Security was rarely an issue; after all, who'd try to steal from a science camp?
A noise from inside snaps him out of his investigation. He rushes to the window. It's only one of the custodians. He knocked over a beaker. Ron sighs deeply. He turns around.
Oh, it's only Gill hawking up a loogie. Wait...
The creature lets the wad fly. Ron dives out of the way as the muck eats away at the wall.
The custodian turns toward the hole. "What the--?"
"Run!" The older man does just that. More loogies fire at Ron. He jumps into the room through the new entrance and heads for the door.
(...the halls of science camp...)
Sterile. Dimly lit. Quiet. Okay, so that last part doesn't much apply now. The corridor is lousy with doors to various rooms. Ron looks around. The janitor's closet is open. He goes in. A fold-up chair. He sticks it under the door he came from.
The boy runs to a door and turns the knob. Locked. Another door on the other side of the hall. Same result. This continues for the next seven doors. He turns on a knob at the end of the hallway. It opens.
(...an unlocked room...)
Ron closes the door and locks it. He slides down to the floor and leans against the door.
Rufus pops out of his pocket. "A plan."
He looks down at his rodent friend. "You're right. You wouldn't happen to have one, would you?"
Rufus slaps his forehead.
Ron stands up. Rufus nearly falls out, but is able to grab onto the pocket's edge and slip back in. "You're right, though. If only there was something we could use."
"I just wish we hadn't left all that stuff back at the camp." As Ron says this, Rufus notices the windowed cabinet with several bottles inside. The little one tugs on his owner's shirt. "What is it?" Rufus points to the cupboard.
Ron walks over to it. "Wow." He is amazed by the chemicals within. "Acid. I imagine that some of this lent Gill his destructive properties." Ron shakes his head in surprise. Rufus looks up at him. "Whoa, I didn't know I knew that."
He'd never been this close to such substances before...at least, not since a few months ago in chemistry class. Trying to create a super-powered rocket fuel seemed like a good idea at the time.
The blonde boy's eyes fix on a particular jar. "Nitro glycerin." His eyes move from the cabinet to a tarp hanging in the corner. Fire hazards were rare at the camp, but hey; better to have and not need...
"Rufus, I think I have a plan."
(...the hallway...)
Another custodian walks through mopping the floor. He glances around and shakes his head. "What could've gotten Griff so spooked?" The man sees a chair against a door. As he goes to it, Ron exits the unlocked room, holding the rolled-up tarp.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" At that moment, the chair seems to disintegrate along with the doorknob.
"Sir, there's no time to explain. You have to get out of here. There's a vicious creature on the loose."
"What? One of the experiments got out?"
"No, the--wait, what experiments?"
"Ehhh...yeah, what experiments?"
"This is very important. You have to leave."
"You kids and your stories." The man turns around and sees Gill. He gasps.
"I'd listen to him if I were you."
The custodian jumps back and holds out his mop like a ninja's staff.
Gill snorts and spits a bit of muck at the mop, breaking it in half. The man yells and runs away.
"Idiot." His gaze shifts to his ex-campmate. "What's with the tarp, Ronnie? You gonna put me out?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes." His tone is low and serious. Gill narrows his eyes. A high rumbling sound emerges from his throat. Ron's eyes widen; he knows what's coming.
Gill shoots a huge muck ball at Ron. The boy ducks away. The ball blows the doors open. Upon swinging back into place, they are half corroded.
Ron bolts from the building, tarp in hand. Gill runs after him.
(...the forest...moments later...)
Ron rushes through the brush. He looks behind him and sees Gill charging in the distance. Must...go...faster.
The young man practically bursts from the wooded area. He spies around...a stage, an orchestra pit, stadium seating. This must be...
"Band camp." There's not much time to stop and smell the great music, though; leaves rustle behind him. Ron gets up and runs down the aisle.
Gill emerges from the forest. Footprints in the dirt, leading to the outdoor concert hall. There doesn't seem to be anyone around, though.
"Come out, come out, wherever you are." The creature stalks down the steps toward the stage.
From a middle row, Ron takes a peek. He quickly ducks back down, unnoticed to Gill. He starts to crawl to the aisle. His foot bumps against a seat...which garners the mutant's attention.
Gill dashes to the source of the noise. "I've been dreaming about this for years!" He gets to the row with the bump...and gets tarped. The blow from the rolled-up material knocks him back several rows.
"Somebody needs a girlfriend." Ron runs back up the steps and to the forest. Gill wasn't the only one to fall under that category, but in the heat of the moment, people can't control what comes out of their mouths.
The blonde stops at a signpost. The hand-carved arrow planks showing 'science camp' and 'band camp' pointed behind him. The two planks higher on the post point in different directions: 'clown camp' to the left and 'tele-communications camp' to the right.
"'Tele-communications camp'. Why does that sound familiar?" Ron thinks back...
"Aren't you wondering how I jammed all of your communications?"
"Equipment stolen from tele-communications camp?"
"Lucky guess."
"That's it!" Ron rushes down the path heading right. He takes a few steps, then stops in his tracks. He turns his head around.
Rufus comes out of Ron's pocket. "Wrong?"
Ron shushes the naked mole rat. A very faint buzzing sound...coming from the other pathway.
The teen runs back up the path, around the signpost and towards clown camp.
(...outdoor concert hall...)
Several chairs in the third and fourth rows are broken. There's a slight trail of muck as a figure shambles up the stairs.
(...clown camp... moments later...)
Ron looks around the enclosure, which contains many tents. As he gets nearer to a pink tent, the buzzing gets louder.
(...the pink tent...)
There are bleachers around, as well as a high-wire and three big rings. Most likely, this is where the made-up campers would put on a show for visitors...but, as much as he loved those clowns, Ron couldn't help but wonder what kind of kooky parents would send their kids to clown camp.
He looks to the bleachers off to the right. Behind the seating is a laptop with a satellite tower on the monitor. Up close, the portable computer emits a sort-of piercing sound. Wouldn't that be just great, Gill in league with the Emergency Broadcast System. Interrupting fine programming with meaningless noise; will he stop at nothing!
Ron gets on his knees and types on the keyboard. The constriction of space forces Rufus out. A window opens, and reads: "Password required." He types a word:
"'Wannaweep'." Another window: 'Password denied'.
"Should've known it wasn't so obvious. How about 'revenge'?"
'Password denied.'
Ron looks a little distraught, until... "Squeeb!"
He stares at the monitor.
'Password denied.'
"I thought for sure that'd be it. Time for my patented problem-solving computer method!"
He cracks his knuckles and wiggles his fingers. The digits hit Ctrl-Alt-Del at the same time.
The computer shuts down and starts to reboot.
Rufus puts his paws on his hips. "Patented?"
Ron rubs the back of his head. "Well, it worked...I hope."
(...the forest...minutes later...)
Ron rushes through the woods and gets to an open area. Rocks form a circle and logs are set up around it. A fine sandy finish ties the space together. This space was home to many a campfire...as well as many a campfire tale. He'd heard a number of them as a kid, but he never thought he'd end up living one.
He pulls out the jar of nitro and pours some of it out. The chemical forms a circle about a foot away from the campfire circle.
(...the outskirts of the forest...)
Gill rushes through the area past the trees. The look on his face suggests that the flames of his anger are far from extinguished.
(...the campfire circle...)
On his knees, Ron holds up two rocks and stretches his arms out. He looks down at Rufus. "If this doesn't work, I want you to know that I've truly cherished our friendship." He shuts his eyes and claps the stones together several times.
(...the forest...)
The creature continues to sprint through. The sound of an explosion startles him for a moment. After a moment, he resumes running.
(...the campfire circle...moments later...)
His outfit tattered, Ron straightens a log. He turns to run away.
"Ronnie..." What choice does he have but to turn back around? "...leaving so soon?" Gill walks into the clearing.
"Well, you know..."
"Anyway, it looks like I have you right where I want you", Gill announces with seemingly undeserved confidence.
"Yeah, you'd think so."
"I know so. Leading you away from Wannaweep was classic."
"Wait. Leading me away?"
"Still haven't learned to think, huh? Don't you remember what I said before?"
Ron lets his mind drift..."Oh, I am no longer Gil. Now, I am Gill!No, that's not it. "...as in these things that grew when I mutated!" Not quite... "Did I mention that contact with this muck will turn you into a mutant, just like me?"
The blonde's eyes widen. "And I can't imagine the girls having much humanity left. After all, the big doofus started to change in a hurry." Ron started to feel flush. If what his former campmate was telling him was true...he'd never forgive himself. Meanwhile, the freak-formerly-known-as-Gil wore a smug smile on his piscine face. Even if he loses, he still wins.
In the midst of his silent gloat, Gill notices the sloppy assemblage of leaves and other flora piled in front of Ron near the circle.
He points to the...ahem, trap. "And just what is that supposed to be?"
"What?"
"The trap." He uses air quotes for emphasis.
"That's not a trap."
"Then try it out if it's not a trap, Grizzly Adams."
Ron scoffs. "Fine." He walks onto the trap...and yells as he falls into a hole.
"Did you really think you were gonna trap me, Ronnie?"
"Well...I was hoping."
Gill walks straight ahead toward the circle. "I guess that's what you get for not being three steps ahead of the game." He takes a couple of steps over a log...and lets out a scream as he falls into a hole. To his surprise, this hole is wider than the one Ron fell into. Gill knocks the tarp away from him and spits out grains of sand.
Ron jumps up from his hole. He claws into the dirt. His fingers sink into the soil and he pulls himself out. He rolls onto his back and breathes heavily.
The creature jumps, but makes no progress. Apparently, the hole is deeper, too. "Who needs shovels when you have nitro glycerin?" Ron stands at the edge of the hole. "Maybe you should've gone for four." Gill scowls and leaps up at him. Ron laughs a little at the mutant's futility and trots back toward the path.
(...Cabin 13...ten minutes later...)
Given Gill's bad news, Ron had to rush back to the squad at Wannaweep. He grabs his stomach, breathing quite harshly, and falls to the ground. A voice snaps Ron from his "rest".
"Ron?" It was Kim. "I heard an explosion. I thought..."
"I'm all right." He glanced at the squad. They certainly looked human. "Everyone's okay?"
"Yeah, weirdly enough." The girls murmur in agreement.
"No webbed feet or forked tongues or anything like that?"
Kim shrugs as best as she can. "Not really."
Ron runs his hand over his brow. "That's a relief. I was able to incapacitate the jamming equipment." For the second time of the night, Ron shakes his head. "I didn't know I knew that."
As he rushes to free the girls, he can't help but think about Gill's words. Sure, the girls looked normal, but the muck obviously worked on him. Nah, he was just trying to play him. But what if swimming in the water had an effect on him?
In any event, the ordeal is over.