“It’s fine,” Bradley says. “This is basically tag with zombies.”

  “It’s much more involved than tag,” Hunter interjects. “It’s the apocalypse. You need to think like a prepper and a military operative.”

  “I can do neither of those.” I do, however, have experience as a winner. I hope that’s enough to sustain me during these imminent dark times. “Is there a time-out signal?”

  Hunter pins me with a pitying look. “This is the apocalypse, my friend. The only time out is permanent.”

  Got it. No breaks for the weary. “I’ll soldier on then.”

  “No firearms, Hunter,” Courtney says. “You know the rules.”

  Hunter kicks the dirt in protest. “What if I roleplay a human instead?”

  “Still no.”

  Firearms aside, I’m concerned that he would refer to his status as a human as roleplaying.

  Courtney hands out three walkie talkies. “These are your only form of communication. No phones.”

  Gloria snags the first one. Olivia and Adam swipe the other two.

  “You need to survive until you hear the whistle blow a second time. If you’re alive by then, congratulations, you’re a winner.”

  Hunter points at his eyes with two fingers and then at me.

  “Stick with me,” Olivia advises with a solemn gaze.

  There’s no need to convince me. I’d bet good money on this kid’s survival.

  “You get a five-minute lead,” Courtney says, followed by an ear-splitting whistle that signals the start of the game.

  People scatter in multiple directions. Everybody seems to have a plan of action except me. Olivia grabs my arm and tugs me in her direction. Ben is shockingly spry for an older guy. He makes it to a small bridge that spans the width of a creek.

  “Can the zombies swim?” I ask.

  “Good question.” Ben rubs his beard.

  Olivia presses the button on the walkie-talkie. “This is Olivia’s Team requesting information.”

  “Go ahead, Olivia’s Team.” Gloria’s voice is interrupted by static.

  “Can zombies swim?”

  Adam’s voice breaks through. “Affirmative.”

  That rules out an aquatic escape route.

  “Zombie Hunter spotted by the cafeteria,” Adam reports in a panic.

  “That’s confusing,” Ben says. “Makes him sound like someone who hunts zombies.”

  “What’s your position, Team Gloria?” Olivia asks.

  There’s no answer from Gloria, only static.

  Olivia’s eyes widen. “Comms are down!”

  “No communication is a problem,” Ben says.

  Not for me. I view this as an ideal opportunity to do some sleuthing. I break away from the group. “I’ll do recon. See if I can spot any zombies in our area.”

  Ben places a hand on my shoulder, holding me in place. “We should stay together. There’s safety in numbers.”

  Olivia pushes her grandfather’s hand aside. “If the hero wants to sacrifice himself, who are we to stand in a hero’s way? We’ll hide near this bridge. Report back as soon as you can.”

  I salute her and take off in a sprint. I spot Angela, who is seated on a rock by the lake. She’s decked out in a sunhat and oversized sunglasses.

  “Aren’t you playing?” I ask.

  She slides the sunglasses to the tip of her nose and peers over the top at me. “I made sure to get bitten right away. Now I can enjoy the sunshine without interruption. You?”

  “I’m on a recon mission.”

  She squints. “Is that so?”

  “Yes.” It isn’t a lie. The recon, however, is for my client and not for the human survivors of a fake apocalypse.

  Her gaze skims me from head to toe. “I won’t reveal your whereabouts if you don’t reveal mine.”

  “Deal.”

  She slides the sunglasses back into position and tips her face skyward to absorb those UV rays. I take that as my cue to carry on.

  I disappear into the thick of the woods. Once I’m clear out of eyesight and earshot of everyone else, I open the PDFs of the property records saved on my phone—I assumed the Internet would fail me out here—and study the images. According to the records, I’ve almost reached the farthest point of Courtney’s land. If there’s anything that’s been missed, any violation or issue that could be used as leverage against her, I might find it here off the beaten path.

  I stop in front of what amounts to a woodland wall. The trees have grown so close together in this section that they seem to be forming a blockade. Is this considered a fire hazard, having trees clustered like this? One forest fire could blaze through here in a matter of minutes. If Courtney was forced to clear some of the trees, it would cost a small fortune—a fortune I happened to know she didn’t possess.

  Uncertain, I snap a few pictures just in case, then instinctively glance over my shoulder to make sure Angela didn’t follow me. I feel a strange sensation in my stomach as I tuck the phone into my pocket. At first, I worry that I ate something I shouldn’t have, until I realize I’ve experienced a twinge like this before.

  It isn’t indigestion; it’s guilt.

  Here I am, actively working against the people who are currently actively working to protect me and the others from a zombie invasion. It doesn’t matter that it isn’t real. If it was real, I have no doubt they would be out there, working to defend the community they’ve built, while I’m secretly working to destroy it.

  I feel sick.

  An uncomfortable realization sinks into my bones. This is about more than my fear of getting caught. If I’m being honest with myself, the truth is I don’t want the campers to think less of me. I like them. They’re nice people, with the possible exception of Hunter, who may, in fact, be a sociopath disguised as a nerdy firearms enthusiast.

  I hear a garbled growl behind me and turn to see Fiona stalking toward me wielding a five-foot branch.

  “That seems excessively large,” I tell her.

  “That’s what she said.” The zombie cracks a smile, and I see she’s blackened a few of her teeth. I admire her commitment to the role.

  “Zombie brains lack the capacity for humor,” I remind her.

  “Right. Grrr. Argh,” she says, slipping back into character.

  When she pulls back to take a swing at me, the top end catches on the branch behind her. I seize the moment to slip past her toward the campground. I’m unprepared for the adrenaline rush that comes with dodging a zombie attack, fake as it is.

  My survival instincts kick in and I race toward the picnic area with Fiona hot on my heels. Up ahead, I see a group has already gathered there. The second whistle sounds as I reach a table.

  “I almost had him,” Fiona says, panting. “I tracked his footprints to Endor Forest, but he had a little help from the trees.”

  Adam whips toward me. “You were all the way out by Endor Forest?”

  “That’s against the rules,” Bradley adds.

  Gloria rushes to my defense. “It isn’t his fault. Nobody explained the boundaries before we started.” She turns to me. “We don’t go as far as Endor Forest. If somebody were to get lost trying to hide in there, it would be almost impossible to find them.”

  “Noted,” I say. And not at all surprised. At least they took sensible precautions. “Why are you all here?”

  “Hunter got us,” Olivia complains, casting a steely eye at the camo zombie. “Are you the only one who didn’t get bitten?”

  I survey the group. “I guess so.”

  “Charlie’s the winner!” Bradley crows, yanking my arm skyward in triumph. I feel uneasy accepting any accolades, knowing the real reason I managed to successfully dodge the zombies.

  Olivia looks at me, eyes shining. “What does he win?”

  “He gets to be first in line in the cafeteria for the next three meals,” Gloria announces.

  “Lucky,” Adam says with a hint of resentment.

  I don’t feel lucky though. I feel more like our undead opponents—a monster.

  * * *

  For the remainder of the afternoon, I can’t stop thinking about Stefan’s joyful transformation and how happy everybody was to witness it. It was almost as moving as Courtney’s wistful gaze whenever she talks about the camp. I wish I had more of that in my life.

  Following a Lego meetup where every participant built an iconic movie scene (there was a shark Lego, so I chose Jaws), I agree to participate in a tabletop game. I get so caught up in reading the rules to avoid making a mistake that I don’t realize how many hours have passed until I get a message from Jeannie requesting proof of life, and that’s when it hits me.

  I haven’t checked in with the office all day.

  I’ve been so immersed in camp life that I failed to check emails, voicemails, or messages. My chest tightens and I find it difficult to breathe. I excuse myself from the game and race back to my cabin before I have a full-blown panic attack in front of a group of trolls and elves and whatever else they’re supposed to be.

  “Charlie? Is everything all right?”

  Shit. I slow my pace. “Hey, Courtney. Yeah, everything’s fine.”

  “You don’t look fine. You look green, and not in a cool Hulk way.”

  “I needed fresh air.”

  “You’re in luck. We have that in abundance here. Still on for movie night?”

  I manage a nod. “Six, right?”

  “On the dot.”

  “Why so early?”

  “Have you seen the other campers? They’re not exactly night owls. Besides, I prefer an early night so I can get up for sunrise yoga.”

  I bark a laugh. “You get up before the crack of dawn to stretch outside?”

  “Don’t mock it ’til you try it. It’s a great way to start the day.”

  “I’m not mocking it. I don’t see the point.”

  “Does there need to be a point? Can’t I do it because I enjoy it?”

  I have no clue how to respond to that. In my world, every action worth doing has a reason, whether it be a goal or a prize. I wouldn’t be here now if it weren’t for the goal of making partner. Courtney’s camp is simply the means to an end.

  “Don’t let me interrupt your commune with nature,” Courtney says. “You’re clearly desperate for it. Pretty sure you left scorched earth in your wake.”

  Not yet, but I may very well do that the day I leave camp.

  I grunt something unintelligible and continue to my cabin, drawing deep breaths along the way. Once my heart rate slows to a nonfatal rhythm, I return Jeannie’s call. She picks up before it manages to complete a full ring.

  “Where have you been?” she hisses into the phone.

  “Is there an emergency?”

  “Yes, the emergency is you’ve been incommunicado. I was worried they tied you to a tree and left you for the crows.”

  “They wouldn’t do that.” Well, Hunter and Olivia might.

  “Joel and Matt have both been sniffing around. From what I heard, Matt’s client is having to delay their negotiations.”

  “He must be pissed.”

  “He isn’t happy, that’s for sure. It’s probably a good thing you’re not here for him to torment.”

  “Has LandStar called?”

  “No, but your mother has. Twice.”

  “In less than twenty-four hours?”

  “Yep. I suggest checking in.”

  “I’d rather not. The service up here is spotty.”

  “Sounds fine to me.”

  “It’s unreliable. The call might get cut off, and then she’ll worry.”

  “Call your mother, Charlie. It’ll take two minutes and you’ll both feel better.”

  My mother only wants to ask me about the promotion. She’s probably preparing the speech for their anniversary party and wants to know which impressive details to include.

  Unfortunately, I have no impressive details to share at the moment.

  By the time I finish my call with Jeannie, leave a voicemail for my mother, and review all my outstanding messages, I realize it’s five minutes to six. Great. I’ve missed dinner and I’m about to be late for the movie.

  My hand hovers over the knob as I reach the door. If Courtney is in the movie cabin with everybody else, maybe now would be a good time to search her office.

  No. Too risky. Courtney isn’t stupid. She’ll notice if I’m the only one not in attendance and probably come looking for me. If she catches me rooting through her files, she’ll send me packing. Then again, if I never look because I’m scared of getting caught, how do I expect to find anything?

  My heart starts to race again. I wasn’t cut out for this sort of work. I’m great in an office setting, complimenting the morning pastries or charming a new client. What I’m not great at is infiltrating what is essentially a family in order to destroy their lives. If I wanted to do that, I would’ve become a divorce lawyer.

  I delay my plan until tomorrow and walk to the cabin designated for movie night.

  “You-hoo, Charles. There’s a free seat next to me.”

  My gaze swings to the left, where Angela is patting the empty chair beside her. An older gentleman tries to sit, and Angela pushes his leg, her predatory smile still fixed on me.

  “I’ve got you, boo,” Courtney says, sweeping in and steering me to another row. She sits and hands me a bag of popcorn. “I thought you might be hungry. Missed you at dinner.”

  “Yeah, I fell asleep,” I lie.

  “Fresh air will do that to you.”

  I stare down at the popcorn and, on cue, my stomach rumbles. “Thank you.”

  “Welcome.”

  Someone switches off the lights and darkness blankets the room. I’d fully intended to look up the movie in advance, but between my mad dash to the cabin and my catchup conversations, I’d completely forgotten. I remain buried in thoughts until colorful animated characters appear on the screen.

  “Hey, this is a kids’ movie,” I whisper.

  “No, Inside Out is a movie for all ages. You’ll see.”

  The characters are personified emotions like Anger, Fear, Disgust, and Sadness.

  And Joy. The only one I can’t relate to.

  Everything in my life has always been so serious. So Very Important. I prefer the version of childhood that’s on the screen.

  As the credits roll, I wipe a stray tear from my eye and hope I was discreet enough that no one notices.

  “Hits you in the feels, right?” Courtney’s smile tells me that she didn’t miss it. Of course not. The woman notices everything. She’s like Poirot, Miss Marple, and Nancy Drew all rolled into one adorable package.

  Did I call her adorable? Thank God that was in my head and not out loud or I’d never live it down.

  “I enjoyed it. Thanks for inviting me.”

  “You’re a camper now, Charlie. Everyone’s invited.”

  The campers file from the building to head to the firepit, but I’m not in the mood to be social. I decide on an early night and head into the darkness.

  “You’re not joining us?” Courtney’s voice catches me off guard.

  When I turn to answer her, my breath catches in my throat. Backlit by moonlight, she’s practically aglow. The effect is stunning.

  I force myself to speak. “Not tonight. See you in the morning, Cricket.”

  I swear under my breath as I turn away. I called her Cricket instead of Courtney. The woman is getting under my skin. I can’t have that.

  I change course and stride toward her office. It’s now or never. If there’s leverage to unearth, now’s the time to find it.

  “Beautiful night, isn’t it, Charlie?”

  I ground to a halt outside the office. Adam’s black costume is barely discernible in the darkness. I notice a flash of red and see Chewy at the end of a leash. “It is. I didn’t see you at the movie.”

  “Not my kind of story. I prefer space opera or fantasy.”

  Chewy trots closer to sniff my shoe, and I instinctively jerk my foot away.

  “No need to worry. He won’t pee on them or anything. He likes to sniff.”

  I relax and let the small dog continue his investigation. “How old is he?”

  “Thirteen.”

  “Is that old for a dog?”

  “Not for his breed. You didn’t have a dog growing up?”

  “No, my parents didn’t want any pets. We were too busy with all the sports and activities.”

  “I guess that’s fair. It’s worse to get a dog and then neglect them.” He scoops the Yorkie into his arms. “Chewy wouldn’t let me ignore him even if I tried. He’s very demanding.” As if to demonstrate the point, the dog licks the side of his black mask.

  “He seems sweet.”

  “Don’t know what I’d do without him. So, how are you enjoying camp so far?”

  “It’s great. Nothing like I expected.”

  “I saw you at Lego club today. Nice Jaws creation.”

  “Thanks. I assume yours was a scene from Star Wars.”

  “Actually, it was from Guardians of the Galaxy. Have you seen it?”

  “No.”

  “The main character is Peter Quill or Star-Lord. He’s a professional thief because of his messed-up childhood. He’s also sort of an asshat, but that’s another story.”

  “And Star-Lord is the villain?”

  “No, he’s the hero.”

  “Doesn’t sound like one.”

  “That’s the great thing about this kind of story. The unlikely hero.”

  “I’ll bite. How does the thief become a hero?”

  “I’m so glad you asked, Charlie. Peter becomes a hero when he develops a genuine connection with others. In this case, a ragtag group of aliens. They bring out the positive traits within him. Thanks to their bonds of love and devotion, Peter begins to make better choices, ones that aren’t steeped in greed and misguided loyalty.”

  “And then he stops being an asshat?”

  Adam’s gaze flicks to the office and back to me. “That remains to be seen. Have a good night, Charlie.”

  “You too.”

  He continues his evening stroll with Chewy, and I stand outside the office feeling like the worst kind of human imaginable. I’m not a villain; I’m a good person.