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what’s going on here, but until we locate Jimmy, we’ve decided to ground everyone to their tents.”
    A collective groan went up from everyone in the tent.
    “That’s not fair,” someone behind Jeff said. It sounded like Mike, but Jeff didn’t turn to look. He kept staring at Mark, unnerved by how frightened he looked.
    “You ask me what I think?” Mark continued, his head lowered. “I think Jimmy’s hiding someplace, maybe thinking this is a game or something and how it’s real funny, but this is serious . If he’s in any kind of trouble, we have to find him as soon as we can.”
    “So how come we can’t help?” Jeff said. He got up from his bed and walked toward Mark. Once he stepped out of the shade of the shade of the tent, the sun was warm on his back, but it wasn’t enough to drive away the chill twisting like a knot of snakes in his stomach. “We could form teams—maybe by tent—and search the whole island from one end to the other if we have to.”
    “Like a wide game,” Mike said. Most of the other campers scowled and shook their heads when they looked at him.
    “What?” he said, looking from face to face. “You’re looking at me like I got poop on my face.”
    “Be a first if you didn’t,” Evan whispered.
    “This isn’t a goddamned game,” Mark said, apparently unaware that he had sworn in front of his campers. “If Jimmy thinks he’s playing a joke on us, it’s not funny, and I’m sure Mr. Farnham will notify his parents and have them come and pick him up and take him home. But if he’s in any kind of trouble …”
    Jeff didn’t like the way Mark left the thought unfinished. It meant that maybe Mark already knew, too, that something really bad had happened to Jimmy.
    “Okay, then,” Mark said, rubbing his hands together. “Tell you what. You guys hang here for a bit, and I’ll talk it over with Mr. Farnham.” He clenched his right hand into a fist and shook it for emphasis. “Until then, though, you guys have to promise you’ll be cool and stay in the tent. Can I count on you?”
    There was another chorus of moans and complaints, but everyone agreed.
    “You can read or sleep or write a letter home,” he said, and with that, he turned and walked away. He and the group of counselors headed toward the camp director’s cabin.
    “Farnham don’t know dick,” Fred said as the boys watched Mark go. “I say screw it. One of our pals is missing, and he might be in trouble. I say we do something about it now! ”
    Jeff shot Fred a questioning look. It wasn’t like Fred to be defiant like this.
    “We just promised Mark we’d be cool,” he said, but he also knew that, no matter what anyone did, in the end it wasn’t going to matter.
    It was already too late.
    Although he had never seen a real dead person, when he closed his eyes, the pool of blackness he saw was like staring into Jimmy Foster’s cold, blank, lifeless eyes.
    * * *
    As it turned out, the boys spent the rest of the afternoon in their tents. As the sun began to set, a few counselors—not including Mark—came back to the tents and collected the boys to bring them to a late supper. None of the counselors and older staff spoke much, and other than the clank of plates and the clatter of silverware, the evening meal was much quieter than usual.
    Throughout the day, the knot of nervous tension in Jeff’s stomach only got worse. He found he didn’t have much of an appetite, but he forced himself to eat anyway because the care package his mother had sent him during the first week of camp had long since disappeared. He didn’t want to wake up late in the middle of the night hungry.
    “So what d’yah think happened to him?” Evan asked, leaning close to Jeff across the table. His mouth was full, and he made loud sucking sounds as he chewed.
    Jeff bit down on his lower lip, shrugged, and shook his head. He didn’t dare say what he knew was on everyone’s mind. They all should just admit that they knew Jimmy