“Thy will be done,” he repeated in a hollow voice. Then he pulled the trigger.
Chapter TWELVE
NO ONE had much of an appetite, though the food was arrayed along all four walls of the lodge in mind-blowing abundance: figs stuffed with goat cheese and wrapped in thick slabs of bacon, puff pastries full of melted brie and honey mustard wearing necklaces of sliced green apples, and warm, crusty bread. Bubbling pots of fondue sat on a carving table groaning under the weight of juicy roasts, golden-brown turkeys, and salvers of fish, which competed with casseroles and a rainbow of fresh salads. One entire wall was devoted to desserts, with a burbling chocolate fountain as a centerpiece. Piles of moist almond cake smeared with lemon glaze, fluffy piles of meringue, fruit tumbling into vats of fresh whipped cream, and more pies than anyone knew existed threatened to slide off the table in a massive avalanche of sugar.
The counselors stood back, waiting for the campers to dive in, but something about almost dying had taken a toll on their appetites.
“Look at ’em,” Marnie hissed. “Bet they didn’t count on this when they decided to test their little Russian roulette exercise on us.”
After the deafening click of the empty chamber broke the spell in the glade, all the starch went out of Gabi and she sank to her knees. Her legs had been reluctant to support her ever since. Luke had to help her back to the lodge, pouring praise and admiration into her ear as his body cradled hers.
“That was so beautiful,” he enthused. “I’ve never seen anything like it. You were like Joan of Arc! Ruth is going to be thrilled, especially after your little blip this morning with the purification. She has high hopes for you, Gabi.”
“Me?” Why would Ruth care about someone like her?
“Sam Lowell’s daughter? Officiating your consecration is a big deal, Gabi. A major coup!” Of course it wasn’t Gabi Ruth was interested in, but Gabi hurt too much to care. Luke’s insistence on replaying the entire afternoon as they trailed Ursula and Troy back to the lodge caused the headache triggered by her fall to worsen. When Marnie marched up to them as they stepped into the hall, wrapped Gabi’s free arm around her shoulder and wrenched her out of Luke’s grasp with a snarl, Gabi didn’t mind the assault to her injured side. Anything for a little peace. She melted into Marnie’s comforting strength and allowed the girl to half carry her to a quiet corner.
The lodge looked like an awkward middle school dance, with shell-shocked campers clustered at one end and agitated counselors at the other. The campers’ voices were subdued as they cast suspicious looks toward the counselors. The haze of good feeling and fellowship induced by the lemonade had been banished by the final traumatizing moments of the challenge. The teens stood in wary packs, though not in their usual formations. Many of the cliques had selected the same obstacle, and the experience of having a close friend point a gun to one’s head had cooled loyalties. They now eyed each other with wary suspicion, seeking new companions or the safety of solitude instead. Even Bradley looked a little off, though he sat close to Geoff and the thick-necked boy he’d chosen to replace Noel as his second lieutenant.
The campers’ side of the hall crackled with insurrection, and the counselors looked nervous. If they didn’t do something soon, they were going to have the very first Consecration Camp mutiny on their hands and nary a calling to show for it. The tension sliced through Gabi’s discomfort, and she realized how parched and hungry she was. She was desperate for something of substance, like some of that poached salmon, a double serving of cheesy baked casserole, and a mountain of crisp salad. The counselors were picking over a few of the platters while they discussed what to do about the standoff, but not one camper made a move toward the buffet. Gabi cataloged every food item that passed between the counselors’ lips in the event that the stalemate broke before everything got carted away. Glazed carrots, cucumber and watercress finger sandwiches, miniquiches studded with ham, cheddar, and spinach, and fudgy brownies with mint frosting were all on the safe list. She could always raid the kitchen later, or even a trash can if need be.
What Gabi really couldn’t stop staring at, though, were the brimming crystal carafes of water the lodge staff carried from counselor to counselor, filling their glasses to the top. Transparent slices of lemon and cucumber floated at the surface and slipped over the lip of the pitchers to bob in the clear goblets as the counselors drank. When was the last time she’d had a drink of water? Last night? This morning the only water she’d touched was when she’d dipped her fingertip in the ceremonial bowl during the purification circle, and then later, when she’d noticed how buoyant her anguished body felt in the salt-saturated water of the tub.
“Fuckers,” Marnie snarled as she followed Gabi’s gaze. “These guys have a real talent for torture, don’t you think? Must be a job requirement.”
Gabi balked. Her brother did not have “a talent for torture,” but Marnie didn’t know Mathew. If her experiences at Consecration Camp were all Gabi knew of counselors, she would think the same thing.
“Did you have any of the lemonade?” Gabi asked Marnie.
“No. We kind of skipped snack time.”
“Why? Didn’t you have to do the second challenge?”
“Oh, I did it all right. I snuck back into the lodge to ditch my cigarettes before they sent us off into the woods. Christina was in the dorm bathroom, and her little black box was on her bed. I peeked.”
“You saw the
