The War Game Read Online Free PDF Page B

would eat weird protein shakes and massive dosages of vitamins, so who knew. He got up and did push-ups with one hand behind his back near the octopus ride.
                  “Do you know anything about the game?” I said.
                  “Little. There’s a bunch of rules, but mostly ignored. There are many players, not many winners. When the dice rolls, hope to God it’s not a free trip to Camp Z. Or if a card is drawn, hope that you have a winning hand. Although, it’s already a losing game.” Micah didn’t slow down, one push-up after another without losing pace.
                  “What is Camp Z?”
                  “Not good, that’s what it is. Where ya headed?”
                  “Going to see baby Logan and that guy who helped me find the sandwich buns.”
                  “Don’t get too attached, now. The deck will be shuffled again soon.”
                  I walked off. I noticed something flying to the right of my eye and saw that my shirt (baby blue with a V-shaped neck and minimal stains) had started unraveling at the sleeve. Damn thing. I’d had this for a couple of years or so. Now I might have to settle for a dorky oversized T-shirt with a screen print of a walrus or something equally as stupid. Figured that the only brand-new, unworn shirt I had across in years would be something that hideous. I guessed I should be grateful.
                  His words echoed in my brain, “Don’t get attached.” Whatever that meant. And attached to whom? That guy? Logan? Both? I was getting annoyed with all these cryptic messages. Though I no longer thought it was because the adults wanted to protect me, considering that the chance for bombs and sunny skies were high. Maybe they didn’t actually know about the cards, the games, and Camp Z but just pretended that they did.
     
    ~~~
     
                  I passed the fun house (it had awful, airbrushed paintings of ugly famous people) to climb up a long and winding wooden staircase. I hung out at the top of the water slides, looking at the baby roller coaster. Why people once loved getting tossed and thrown about by mechanical beasts, I’d never know. And why would they let their kids ride on them either?
                  I knew I should help out with whatever was going on but I was tired. I wanted to take a nap but I knew if I even closed my eyes for a moment, I would fall asleep and not wake up until tomorrow morning. And that would give someone an opportunity to steal my bag. Maybe I should hide my shoes during the night, too. Nah, I’d just use them as a pillow.
                  I climbed back down from the slide. I couldn’t see anyone until they were a few feet in front of me. Luckily most people were not around. They must have gotten the theater opened and started camping out in there. I would camp out elsewhere but for now, I was stumbling my way to the front of the park.
                  It was dark and no lights were on. It was very eerie when you turned around the corner and the moonlight was shining off of some fiberglass bear’s face.
                  I hoped tree girl didn’t see me. I hoped that she wasn’t nocturnal.
                  I had reached my most undesirable destination.
                  The octopus.
                  It stood tall and proud in the night,unaware of the rotting corpse that it held.
                  I stood still for about five minutes, making sure I couldn’t see or hear any movement. Then I tied the ends of the bag around my neck like some sort of primitive backpack. Then I shimmied up a tentacle and deposited my goods into the bottom of the passenger box.
                  I hoped this dead woman’s ghost was still around, hopefully the motherly type, and would watch over my