Marnie scowled harder. “Damn right I did. Did you all have to do that trust-fall thing? So pathetic. No way those lightweights were going to be able to catch me. ‘Trust the hand of God,’ Beth kept saying, but I jumped right through that flimsy sheet and landed on my own two feet.” Marnie interlaced her fingers and pressed her palms away from her chest, setting off a symphony of pops and crackles. “When the counselors started pulling out the snacks after the first challenge, I grabbed the black box out of Christina’s bag and opened it in front of everybody.”
“You opened it?” Gabi gasped. “Why?”
“Because it’s a gun, Lowell, and guns are used for two things: killing or making people think they’re about to be killed. I didn’t feel like eating cookies and knocking back lemonade without knowing which of those things I was about to do. You should have seen the looks on the counselors’ faces when I grabbed that box. My group was small, like yours, so it didn’t have quite the dramatic impact I would have liked. I guess there’s a lot of wannabe Witnesses in this crowd who don’t want to cop to Insecurity.”
“So what happened after you pulled out the gun?” Gabi asked.
“I told them to get on with it. Once the gun was out in the open, snack time was pretty much over, so they kind of had to. There were two pairs in our group, so the first pair went, then me and Helen, that mousey little thing who’s always tagging after the pretty girls.”
“Which side of the gun were you on?” Gabi asked, but she was sure she already knew. No way Marnie would have consented to someone holding a gun to her head and pulling the trigger. Gabi couldn’t read exactly where Marnie stood on the subject of faith, but if her feetfirst leap from the rock was any indication, the bulk of it rested in herself.
“Beth spun the chamber, then handed Helen the gun. I guess the idea of me with a loaded weapon made them rethink the whole volunteer thing.”
“But that’s not fair!” Gabi protested. “It should have been the same for everyone.”
“I wanted it that way, actually,” Marnie admitted. “I wanted to show them that I wasn’t afraid. I put the barrel right in my mouth.”
“Marnie!” Gabi shrieked.
“What would have been the difference, Lowell? Being shot through the temple and shot through the mouth are both pretty foolproof ways to off someone. Besides, the gun wasn’t even loaded. I’m pretty sure none of them were. I checked the one Christina left on her bed. There’s no way the counselors would have risked the backlash if somebody had died. It was all just some big fake-out to awe us with the power of faith.”
Marnie’s words should have made Gabi feel better that none of their lives had ever been truly in danger, but she was furious. It didn’t matter whether the guns had been loaded or not, because everyone believed they were. Every camper had been asked to either take a life or sacrifice their own, and for what? To terrify them into having faith?
“Don’t eat or drink anything unless you see the counselors doing it,” Gabi whispered, galvanized to share Jordan’s secret by her friend’s reckless bravery. “Most of the food is drugged.” Apart from Jordan, Marnie was the only person she’d met here whom she could trust, and she needed her to stay clearheaded. The drugs made them all susceptible to manipulation, and the counselors had shown they were more than willing to take advantage.
“I thought that was just a rumor!” Marnie said, looking with renewed interest at the grazing counselors. “Did your brother tell you that?”
“It was someone I trust. Don’t you feel different today than you felt last night after all that food?”
“Sure,” Marnie said. “Hungry. But yeah, there was some weirdness, especially during all that singing and praying with the mentors last night. Thanks for the tip, though it doesn’t look like it’s going to be an issue anytime soon.” A few of the campers were beginning to drift toward the dorms, signaling their intent to go to bed rather than accept the counselors’ olive branch. The counselors’ agitation intensified as they noticed the exodus. After a few minutes of huddling and sharp whispers, Ruth emerged and strode to the center of the room. She wore the aggrieved but gracious smile of a hostess whose guests are intent on spoiling her party.
“Hey, you guys, can you step in here a little closer? Come on, just scoot in here a bit so I don’t have to shout.”
As one reluctant, amoeboid mass, the campers inched forward. Gabi and Marnie stayed against the wall, where Jordan had joined them. Peter was near the front of the crowd, looking with wounded longing at Zach. “That’s better,” Ruth said. “You all are so shy all of a sudden! And tired, I bet. It has been quite a day, but the hard part is over. Today, you all opened your hearts to God’s protection, and that is what being a Messenger or Translator is all about!” The singsongy, sermonizing tone built in Ruth’s voice, but though the counselors nodded and clapped, none of the campers followed suit. Ruth paused, registering their resistance, and settled her hands on her hips. “This is the hour, you guys. You have triumphed, and it’s time to celebrate!”
“Amen!” the counselors shouted. “Praise him!” But their words pinged off the campers’ indifference like water off a hot griddle. Ruth looked over her shoulder at Zach and stepped back toward the counselors as he took her place. Zach began to pace the room, clapping his hands and rubbing them together.
“That’s right, Sister Ruth, it’s time to celebrate before all this good food gets cold, and we are about to give you a very good reason to do that right here, aren’t we? Can I get an amen?”
“Amen!” the counselors chorused, bouncing on their toes and grinning
