Amie gestured urgently for her brother to keep his head down, watching as the mysterious figures vanished down the road. She kept them hidden in the building until they were far enough away that she couldn’t hear them anymore. Only then did she take her backpack from her shoulders, dumping its snacks onto the floor at their feet.
“They looked so strange,” Wes muttered. “Not like you, or like me. You think they were from another camp? Or maybe down the hill?”
She ignored the question, selecting the object she’d been hunting for from among the food-items: the radio. She had to wedge her hooves just so to get the button pushed, but she had practiced that one enough times by now. She switched to the emergency band. They would still have someone listening, right? “Stella Lacus camp, this is Amie Blythe. Over.”
There was a brief pause, only lasting a few seconds. Then the radio hissed. “Copy Amie. What’s your emergency?”
They’ll find out we were down here, no getting around it. “We have two strangers coming from down the mountain, over.”
There was a brief pause on the other end. “Sounds like good news!” the speaker said. She was pretty sure it was Nate. Who else would rather be sitting in the radio booth over getting out into camp helping people? “Could you confirm? What do they look like? Over.”
The question had obvious implications now, even if she wouldn’t have considered them before. He wanted to know if they were human or not.
“That’s why I called on this line. They don’t look like us, but they aren’t human either. I’m not sure what I’m looking at. Horses, but not bugs. They’re still talking our language, and they have… strange powers. It looked like they just appeared from nothing. Over.”
A much longer pause this time. When the voice finally answered from the other end, she could hear several others whispering at the same time. She couldn’t make out any of the words, but she didn’t need to. Amie could guess at what they meant. “You saw them appear? Where, exactly?”
“Just past the Shell station. They walked past it a few minutes ago, and are on their way towards camp. Two individuals—can’t miss them when you see.”
A different voice echoed over the radio another second later. She recognized it instantly as Mr. Albrecht. “Say again, Miss Blythe. You saw two strangers, clearly a different species, but speaking the same language. They appeared from nothing, like we did when Stella Lacus shifted to this… location. They are on their way up to camp now. Did they seem dangerous?”
She hesitated. How could she make a value judgment like that, with the safety of the whole camp on her shoulders? While she deliberated, her brother was already getting restless. Wes backed towards the door, clearly eager to go.
She couldn’t blame him. “I didn’t see guns or anything. They felt… afraid. There might be a little hostility too. Does that make sense?”
Just like asking about whether they were human, some questions had clear meaning even if no one actually said what they meant. Those on the other line all knew what it was like to sense emotions. How could they not?
“Yes,” Mr. Albrecht said. “Don’t let them see you, Amie. I’ll meet them myself. Over and out.”
The radio went quiet, leaving them with only the steady drip of melting ice cream for company. “They don’t care that we were down here?”
She shrugged. “Nobody can eat this stuff anyway. I guess there’s fuel we can’t pump without a siphon, and some electronics. Need a phone charger?”
He glanced to the shelf. “You don’t feel bad about stealing it? I mean…” His wings opened, buzzing nervously. At least he shared that strange body language in common with the other bugs. “I don’t like stealing.”
“We can only pray to God that the owner and all their staff were nowhere near Camp Stella Lacus when we got ripped out of reality,” she muttered. “We didn’t steal anything in here. Someone stole the whole mountain.”
That seemed to satisfy him. After a few seconds, he selected the biggest, thickest battery-bank, one with a solar cell atop the plastic. “Always wanted one of these. Room in your bag?”
She had just emptied her bag, so there was room for quite a lot. She tore the plastic free, settled the battery bank inside, then replaced the meat snacks. She would have to try those when she had more time.
“They should be past us by now. We can go back.”
Together, they made their way out the back. She stopped long enough to click the lock back into place, and shut the door. Maybe that would help them escape suspicion. So long as they could keep the snacks hidden…
She kept the radio clipped to the outside of her pack as they walked, tuned to the emergency channel. They did not get to see what happened when the strange visitors encountered Camp Stella Lacus. But at least she got to hear it.
“See them coming,” Poole said. “Two people, just like Amie said. Over.”
“Two horses,” someone corrected.
“I’m stepping out of the jeep,” Mr. Albrecht said. “Switching to speaker.” Then his voice came a little further away, only slightly distorted by background static.
“Hello there! If you’re here to help us, God knows we need it. Can you—” Then silence.
“Confirm, did they just vanish?”
“Gone,” Poole said. “Did you feel it? There was a flash of… heat, almost. Can we feel radio waves?”
“Goddamnit,” Mr. Albrecht said. “They saw me, I know they did. Muttered something to each other, and the one with the horn just… they vanished. Felt absolutely terrified. Worse than most of our campers the night we arrived. I think the one with the horn might’ve pissed himself.”
There was no laughter. “Can’t be good. What do we do?”
“Camp meeting tonight,” he said. “Obviously. There are so many other concerns. We need to secure food first. Then water, then… I want all our target-practice firearms accounted for, and a full inventory of every round we have left. Staff meeting in two hours. All hands on deck. Over and out.”
She sighed as the emergency channel finally went quiet again.
Her brother glanced her way, looking exasperated. “All that, and they didn’t even talk to us? What’s the point of coming up here?”
“Don’t know.” She stopped, then stepped out of her pack. “You take this. Stash them both with my pioneering boys, ask them for help hiding our stuff.”
“Why?”
“Maybe no reason. But the longer this goes, the more I think they were right; maybe it would be better to be ready to run. Those two horses just appeared from nothing. Could they bring in an army the same way?”
“I… don’t know,” he admitted. “Guess so. They didn’t feel like the types, though. Being a little scared of us makes sense. I was scared when I saw the mirror! Maybe if they stayed long enough to talk to us, they wouldn’t be afraid. We might be able to get some real help.”
She wasn’t quite so optimistic, but there was also no reason to argue for it. Yes, let them be as depressed as possible over things they couldn’t control. That would improve their lives so much!
She was at the staff meeting that night, but ultimately there was nothing decided beyond what they had already suspected. Yes, the visiting strangers might have been friendly, or perhaps they were scouting for an invasion. They had no idea, and maybe they never would.
Mostly the conversation focused on how hungry camp was getting. “One meal a day isn’t sustainable, Mr. Albrecht,” said Poole. “Keeping everyone under control is hard enough after we were transformed into monsters. What happens once they’re starving?”
“I feel it too,” Mr. Albrecht said. His tailored jeans were joined by a jacket now, making him resemble humans far more than any of them did. Just a few items of clothing gave him so much authority. “You can ask the kitchen—I’m not taking extra meals or extra helpings either.”
Mrs. Martinez nodded sharply. “True. I’ve caught some campers trying to sneak in. Might want to have a few eyes watching the freezer. But that’s something else—the rice cookers might be electric, and the microwaves—but the stoves use propane. When that runs out…”
A collective groan passed through the room. It left Amie staring. She could feel hunger from everyone here, to varying degrees. Why would they be, when she felt so normal?
“We need to discover the tolerance for eating our other supplies,” Mr. Albrecht finally said. "Nurse Sobol, find some hungry volunteers. Mrs. Martinez, collaborate. The buns on tonight’s sloppy joes didn’t seem like a problem. Find how far we can stretch. For the rest of us—we need to bring in more.”
His attention turned on Amie. “You were down near the gas station. Has it been looted?”
She shook her head once. Technically that might be a lie, but it felt true in spirit. They’d mostly taken snacks for her brother.
He’s hungry too. I’m the only bug here who isn’t. What’s wrong with me? She should probably start forcing herself to eat. If some strange aspect of her change was suppressing her appetite, it wouldn’t be good. “Shelves weren’t restocked the night before we…” She hesitated. “Do we have a name for it? When we all turned into monsters?”
“The Transit,” someone said. One of the arts counselors. “We wanted a name that didn’t inspire negative feelings or self-hatred. Since it’s clear we’re somewhere else, it was a good match.”
“Since the Transit,” Amie continued. “Back room looked pretty well stocked. Several boxes of beef jerky. They have ingredients for the kitchen too—hot dogs and stuff. Maybe we can get those before they all go bad?”
Mr. Albrecht selected a few bugs from among their number and sent them off with orders to do just that. The suggestion that there might be more to eat was enough to grind the whole meeting to a halt until they were off.
We better not go all Donner Party up here. Will we still be stuck here in winter?
“We should have thought of that,” Mr. Albrecht said, as soon as they were focused again. “We can’t overlook any source of nutrition. We have twelve-hundred people up here, how are we going to feed them?”
Amie didn’t listen very closely after that. The ideas ranged from greenhouses and planting fields to dedicated fishing in their rivers and lakes, and hunting parties to go out into the mountains.
“Hunter gatherer populations could never get this high in one place,” someone said. She didn’t even catch their face. “If we rely on fishing and small game, we’ll deplete the mountains around us in no time, and have nothing left.”
“Should we send everyone away?” asked someone else. “Maybe smaller groups could survive better.”
“Smaller groups of teenagers,” Mrs. Albrecht said. “I know how highly you all think of the campers, but don’t forget. They are children—they don’t have the skills to survive out in the wild. They came here to hike and climb and swim, not forage for berries in the woods.”
My kids can do that, Amie thought. Not that it does them much good. They can’t eat them.
“Separation should be a last resort,” Mr. Albrecht said. “We don’t know the world we’re in, or if we’re in another time or place. We do not know what is waiting for us at the base of the mountain. We know that there are others, but not if they are friendly or hostile.
“Our best chance of survival is the same thing humanity has done for our entire history—work together, pool our skills, and protect each other. Every idea suggested here tonight is good, we will try everything we can. Hunting, fishing, farming. Counselors, I want you to go through your campers and separate them for each of these responsibilities. We’ll also take volunteers with medical experience, for the kitchen, and general labor.
“Make it clear to them that after tonight, everyone eats with their labor team. We set the expectation right here that we need every camper to contribute with whatever they have. We will only work them for a few hours each day. The rest of the time, I want to keep camp recreation open. Keep scheduling our usual activities—movie night, laser tag, anything to keep them distracted.”
How are we supposed to play laser tag without hands?
“These are teenagers we’re talking about,” Poole said. “Some of them won’t cooperate. They might try to run. Or worse.”
“Persuade them not to,” Mr. Albrecht said. “Keep reporting attendance. I want to know as soon as someone goes missing. But we will not spend any more resources trying to keep people here who want to leave. We have food now, we have the promise of warmth and shelter and their friends. Focus on what we have, not what we’re missing.”
It was a good plan, or at least the best they could manage given their limitations. But would it be enough?
“There’s one more thing,” Amie said. The meeting all turned towards her, clearly not expecting anything beyond silence from her. But if there was ever a chance to tell them, this was it. Some of the adults looked angry with her for breaking her silence, others just annoyed.
She stood. “I know it seems like everyone in camp is the same kind of weird bug alien, but that isn’t quite true. I know one person who looks different. Different enough that people will notice.”
Some of the frustration faded into interest. For others, she saw doubt. But she wasn’t going to stop now.
“Explain.” Mr. Albrecht kept his voice neutral, leaving no hints for Amie to guess how he must feel. “Who is this, and different how? It might be relevant to our predicament.”
“My little brother, Wesley. He’s…” she launched into an explanation, describing his unusually colorful body, but also all the features he shared in common with the regular bugs. She produced her phone, showing the camp director a picture she’d taken of them together. She intended it to be a comical addition to social media, once this nightmare ended and they were restored to their home.
Mr. Albrecht looked over the phone, turning it over in his hooves before passing it to the nurse. “Pay particular attention to this case, Sobol. you may want to call this camper in for testing along with any other volunteers. His differences might mean nothing, or they might be a valuable clue. I will… recognize your brother at chow tomorrow morning, Amie, call him up before the camp. Make sure he never travels alone until then. You know how children can be.”
She nodded, taking her phone back from the nurse. “T-thank you, Director.” She sat nervously back down. But privately, she overflowed with relief.
Thank God the camp had someone sensible in charge, or they’d really be screwed.