Stephanie Johnson

As soon as I entered the room I instinctively looked for Santiago. Sure there were plenty of seats, but at least I knew someone. Tugging Becky along, I plopped down on a seat next to him.

"No more open seats." It was a sorry excuse and the Asian guy who reprimanded us earlier raised an eyebrow at it. Becky and I quietly talked amongst ourselves, leaving the boys to do whatever they were doing before.

The Asian dude grunted, causing me to look over. His dark hair hung in his face, concealing his eyes. Even with that anonymity, it was obvious he was pissed as he tipped his chair back. He better not put his disgusting shoes on the table.

Unfortunately, he smacked it into a blonde guy walking by in the process.

"Watch it!" The blonde wore a blue tank top that showed off his muscles and tan. In other words, he definitely wasn't someone I'd want to fight.

"How about you watch where you're fucking going!" Damn. The Asian's got quite the attitude. Also, I really need to figure out what his name is.

The blonde smirked, turning around to stop suddenly and punch the Asian in the face, who, in return, kicked him where it hurts. It all happened so quickly, one minute the blonde was acting all high and mighty, the next he had crouched into a fetal position.

"You'll pay for that," he hissed, obviously in pain, "You and all your friends."

"A, it's a shame your personality doesn't match your face, and B, I don't give a shit, we're not friends." The blonde merely flipped him off and walked away. The Asian turned back around before propping his shoes onto the white tabletop. Disgusting. Taking the chance, I verified that his shoes were at least moderately clean, I mean, this is what we eat on, isn't it?

"He won't be a problem," my brother grumbled as if he was the one being confronted by Mr. Muscles. "It's not like we are in a juvenile center or anything." He pointed at me, about to make a snide remark. As I resisted the urge to strangle my stepbrother, the Asian leaned over, offering his hand.

"Let's chill out, shall we?" His voice was light and cool, as was his gaze. No matter how hard I looked, his face showed no hints that it had just been hit. No swelling or anything.

Before I could respond, a man's voice echoed through the speakers. The four of us looked to the source to find a bald man on a podium.

"Let me begin by telling you this isn't a normal summer camp," he paused, for dramatic effect, I suppose.

"However, I'm sure that most of you are aware of why you are here and that your parents signed the necessary documents. Additionally, Camp Progress is dedicated to weeding out those who are weak. Every time you do something that stands out, The Council rewards you with a tally mark on your arm. The qualifications to gain a tally vary depending on the situation. Each mark permits you more privileges such as additional food and clothes. Should you receive three, you have the opportunity to be specially trained to pursue further careers. Those that are unable to complete three tally marks will face consequences. There is no other choice."

For some reason, consequences didn't sound appealing. I glanced at Santiago to see whether he knew about these "careers" seeing his expression, I assumed he didn't.

The bald man continued, sweat glistening on his skin.

"You should note that Camp Progress does not have cabins for you. You will need to make your own shelter to survive. Sleeping bags have been removed from your materials and will not be given back until next month. Working in groups is permitted, but it should be noted that extra points will be awarded to only the last 30 alive."

Gasps flooded throughout the room as people began panicking. Somehow, they acted as if they had never been to camp.

"We have to sleep outside?"

"What about breakfast?"

Questions were shouted at the man who seemed to grow increasingly irritated.

"What tallies? What careers? What the hell is going on?" My voice was definitely filled with alarm.

"Surely your parents briefed you on this camp?" The boy looked at us, confused. Even Becky seemed to have some clue of what was going on.

No, they sure as heck did not. I turned to see Santiago's panicked expression

The bald man cleared his throat before speaking again.

"In case you were unaware, there's going to be a heavy storm tonight and we'll do a headcount in the morning. That is all."

We were all immediately pushed out of the dining hall by the wave of hysteric people fleeing from the building.

It was fairly dark outside and I was separated from the 'group' a couple of times.

"We need to work together," Mr. Asian boy announced, seeming to have materialized by my side.

"What happened to us not being friends?" snapped Santiago.

"That was before I learned that they were going to kill us!" He shot back.

"You were just talking about how you already knew about this camp!" Was he lying?

"I knew what it was for, I didn't realize they were serious about murder!"

"They can't kill me!" Becky practically cried, brown eyes beginning to water, "I have a life with my girlfriend!" Too bad, she was pretty cute.

"Is that why you got sent to here? Because of your girlfriend?" The boy looked slightly uncomfortable but curious. I wonder why he's here.

"My dad could care less about that. He's just annoyed that I'm perceived as weak because I don't like going outside. He is always taking me on camping trips and runs in the morning..."

"Camping trips?" I interrupted, "So you know how to create a shelter!"

"I guess, I mean I never really paid that much attention," she said, "but if we all work together I think we can figure it out." Becky glanced around at our small group, providing a hesitant smile.

"I am Becky Torres-Alpizar, by the way."

"Stephanie Jonhson but you can call me Steph."

We turned to watch the Asian square his shoulders "Park Minhyuk." Becky's eyes seemed to widen a bit at the name, but his expression was enough to silence any questions. Did they know each other?

"Santiago Guzman," my brother grumbled in reply.

Becky shielded her eyes and looked off in the direction of the quickly setting sun and frowned.

"We probably won't have time to build a complete shelter tonight," she paused, "We should build a windbreak and gather some leaves. That way we can hopefully stay warm. We just have to hope that it doesn't flood."

The other three began gathering logs and sticks to try and build a windbreak, while I gathered some leaves. Soon it became so dark I could barely see my hand in front of my face. Becky called out in the distance.

"We can't get much more done in the dark. Let's try to get some sleep."

After stumbling back to the campsite and possibly running into some trees, I ran right into Becky.

"Come on," she grabbed my hand and dragged me back to the campsite. Park and my brother were there already trying to cover themselves in the leaves as well a jacket I assume belonged to Park. I sat down in between them and started to cover myself.

"You're stealing my leaves!" My idiotic brother proclaimed, "Give them back!"

"Here they go again," grumbled Park. "Kill me now." He rolled over to the side, probably trying to block us out.

"This won't be a problem if she stopped stealing my leaves!" Santiago argued.

"Well, I'm cold!" Why is it so cold? It's literally summer.

"Suck it up princess," Park shot back "So are we!"

"Shut up!" Becky yelled. "You're going to attract unwanted attention!"

"Well, I will if she gives back my leaves!"

I opened my mouth to protest when Becky snapped "Listen!"

We all were quiet for a moment and then we heard it. A piercing scream of pain was echoing through the air. My brother grabbed my arm as I stood and tried to pull me back down.

"Sit back down!" hissed my brother "You're going to get us all killed!"

"Someone needs help." I countered, ready to start another argument.

"He's right, there is nothing we can do," Becky murmured, about to cry. Why not?

Reluctantly I sat down, feeling like the biggest loser in the world as the screaming came to an abrupt stop.

"This fucking sucks," Park whispered.

"Couldn't get any worse, could it?" Becky tried to brighten the mood.

She was wrong. About half an hour later it started to rain.