Page 70 of Lady and the Camp
Oh, I knew. “Capture. The. Flag.”
My cousins and Patrick went wild cheering. The rest of the group looked around questioningly.
“What’s the big deal with Capture the Flag?” Hudson asked.
“It’s only the greatest game of all time,” Marcy answered. Immediately, she started in with a rundown of why we loved the game and provided a high-level overview of how to play.
“We’ll get into more detail as we split into teams,” she said.
We counted off and divided into teams. Hudson and I made it on the same team. She grinned at me. I grinned back.
Patrick jacked me in the ribs. “Can’t believe you tried to hide it from us.”
I waved him off. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Marcy, in the midst of her game explanation, broke away without missing a beat. “We could tell the second we saw you two together you were fools for each other.”
Hudson rolled her eyes. Her blushing made her even more adorable.
Now everybody looked at me. “It’s not like we had some master plan. It just sort of happened. Then you all showed up.”
Funny, not much had changed since my younger days. Any time I thought I’d scored time with a girl, somehow my cousins found out and ruined my plans. Only now, this wasn’t so bad. I ran this place. I could kick them out if I wanted.
We returned to game prep. Flag zones and guards were established and flags placed. We peeled off to our respective hiding spots.
The afternoon flew by. I’d say I felt like a kid again, but my full adult self experienced the game with all the knowledge I’d picked up through the years. Nostalgia hit hard. I didn’t need elaborate hiking adventures if I could just dothisevery so often.
The score was currently tied and I had a clear shot at the flag. I ran for it. Out of nowhere, a tackle hit me from the side. We rolled to the ground.
Noah. “Caught!”
I scrambled to my feet and reached a hand out to help her up. “You okay? That was a hard fall.”
She sprung up without assistance. Green paint streaked across her face. And, were those fangs drawn below her mouth? With red painted blood trails?
“Jail for you.” She pointed to the holding area where I’d need to stay put until a teammate tagged me out. She growled and fled into the woods.
Wow. That was, uh, quite a friend group Marcy put together. Marcy, my hyper-involved cousin, Hudson the diva, Jillian the brain scientist, and whateverthatwas with Noah.
Preston from meet-up group tagged me out from jail. We dashed in the direction of the other team’s flag, working out a plan. That plan involved going the long way around through thick woods and brush. A thin, faint trail cut through it. Not one we took campers through, but I knew the route.
Preston tapped me on the back. “Hit the deck.”
We ducked behind cover. I spied a figure in the distance walking slow. I angled around a tree for a better view. Huh. Couldn’t tell who it was. I mouthed, “Who is that?
Preston crouched forward, squinting. Turned to me and shrugged.
I looked again. A man. Dressed in muted colors. Not camo, but clothing that blended into the woods. Ball cap with no logo. White guy maybe thirty-five. And he wasn’t a part of our game.
I pointed at Preston again. “Trespasser,” I said in a low voice.
Preston’s eyes grew wide. “What do we do?”
I returned to watching the stranger. We were near the property border. If he’d come from the other camp, he’d climbed the fence. If he was a lost hiker, he’d still have climbed that fence. Either that, or he’d walked in through our front entrance and wound his way through the woods. The gate up front closed off the driveway at night and on weekends, but this wasn’t Fort Knox.
The fourteen of us playing had covered a lot of ground running around during the game. This guy would have caught someone’s attention by now if he’d come in from any other direction.
Preston followed my lead to stay hidden and move toward the voices of our friends while keeping watch over the guy. I spied Pocket Pete on our team. Moving with as little sound as possible, I caught up to him and filled him in.
