“You know I get bus sick, Harry,” Alex groaned.

“Alex, give me a break.” I shoved my brother against the window. “We’re almost there. Don’t start thinking about getting bus sick now!”

The bus rumbled over the narrow road. I held onto the seat in front of me. I gazed out the window.

Nothing but pine trees. They whirred past in a blur of green. Sunlight bounced off the dusty glass of the window.

We’re almost to Camp Spirit Moon, I thought happily.

I couldn’t wait to get off the bus. My brother, Alex, and I were the only passengers. It was kind of creepy.

The driver was hidden in front of a green curtain. I had glimpsed him as Alex and I climbed on board. He had a nice smile, a great suntan, curly blond hair, and a silver earring in one ear.

“Welcome, dudes!” he greeted us.

Once the long bus ride began, we didn’t see him or hear from him again. Creepy.

Luckily, Alex and I get along okay. He’s a year younger than me. He’s eleven. But he’s as tall as I am. Some people call us the Altman twins, even though we’re not twins.

We both have straight black hair, dark brown eyes, and serious faces. Our parents are always telling us to cheer up—even when we’re in really good moods!

“I feel a little bus sick, Harry,” Alex complained.

I turned away from the window. Alex suddenly looked very yellow. His chin trembled. A bad sign.

“Alex, pretend you’re not on a bus,” I told him. “Pretend you’re in a car.”

“But I get carsick, too,” he groaned.

“Forget the car,” I said. Bad idea. Alex can get carsick when Mom backs down the driveway!

It’s really a bad-news habit of his. His face turns a sick yellow. He starts to shake. And then it gets kind of messy.

“You’ve got to hold on,” I told him. “We’ll be at camp soon. And then you’ll be fine.”

He swallowed hard.

The bus bounced over a deep hole in the road. Alex and I bounced with it.

“I really feel sick,” Alex moaned.

“I know!” I cried. “Sing a song. That always cures you. Sing a song, Alex. Sing it really loud. No one will hear. We’re the only ones on the bus.”

Alex loves to sing. He has a beautiful voice.

The music teacher at school says that Alex has perfect pitch. I’m not sure what that means. But I know it’s a good thing.

Alex is serious about his singing. He’s in the chorus at school. Dad says he’s going to find a voice teacher for Alex this fall.

I stared at my brother as the bus bounced again. His face was about as yellow as a banana skin. Not a good sign.

“Go ahead—sing,” I urged him.

Alex’s chin trembled. He cleared his throat. Then he began to sing a Beatles song we both really like.

His voice bounced every time the bus bumped. But he started to look better as soon as he started to sing.

Pretty smart idea, Harry, I congratulated myself.

I watched the pine trees whir past in the sunlight and listened to Alex’s song. He really does have an awesome voice.

Am I jealous?

Maybe a little.

But he can’t hit a tennis ball the way I can. And I can beat him in a swim race every time. So it evens out.

Alex stopped singing. He shook his head unhappily. “I wish Mom and Dad signed me up for the music camp.” He sighed.

“Alex, the summer is half over,” I reminded him. “How many times do we have to go over this? Mom and Dad waited too long. It was too late.”

“I know,” Alex said, frowning. “But I wish—”

“Camp Spirit Moon was the only camp we could get into this late in the summer,” I said. “Hey, look—!”

I spotted two deer outside the window, a tall one and a little baby one. They were just standing there, staring at the bus as it sped by.

“Yeah. Cool. Deer,” Alex muttered. He rolled his eyes.

“Hey—lighten up,” I told him. My brother is so moody. Sometimes I just want to shake him. “Camp Spirit Moon may be the coolest camp on earth,” I said.

“Or it may be a dump,” Alex replied. He picked at some stuffing that poked up from a hole in the bus seat.

“The music camp is so great.” He sighed. “They put on two musicals each summer. That would have been so awesome!”

“Alex, forget about it,” I told him. “Let’s enjoy Camp Spirit Moon. We only have a few weeks.”

The bus suddenly screeched to a stop.

Startled, I bounced forward, then back. I turned to the window, expecting to see a camp out there. But all I could see were pine trees. And more pine trees.

“Camp Spirit Moon! Everybody out!” the driver called.

Everybody? It was just Alex and me!

The driver poked his blond head out from behind the curtain. He grinned at us. “How was the ride, dudes?” he asked.

“Great,” I replied, stepping into the aisle. Alex didn’t say anything.

The driver climbed out. We followed him around to the side of the bus. Bright sunlight made the tall grass sparkle all around us.

He leaned into a compartment and pulled out our bags and sleeping bags. He set everything down on the grass.

“Uh… where’s the camp?” Alex asked.

I shielded my eyes with my hand and searched around. The narrow road curved through a forest of pine trees as far as I could see.

“Right through there, dudes,” the driver said. He pointed to a dirt path that cut through the trees. “It’s a real short walk. You can’t miss it.”

The driver shut the baggage compartment. He climbed back onto the bus. “Have a great time!” he called.

The door shut. The bus roared away.

Alex and I squinted through the bright sunlight at the dirt path. I swung my duffel bag over my shoulder. Then I tucked my sleeping bag under one arm.

“Shouldn’t the camp send someone out here to greet us?” Alex asked.

I shrugged. “You heard the driver. He said it’s a very short walk.”

“But still,” Alex argued. “Shouldn’t they send a counselor to meet us out here on the road?”

“It’s not the first day of camp,” I reminded him. “It’s the middle of the summer. Stop complaining about everything, Alex. Pick up your stuff, and let’s get going. It’s hot out here!”

Sometimes I just have to be the big brother and order him around. Otherwise, we won’t get anywhere!

He picked up his stuff, and I led the way to the path. Our sneakers crunched over the dry red dirt as we made our way through the trees.

The driver hadn’t lied. We’d walked only two or three minutes when we came to a small, grassy clearing. A wooden sign with red painted letters proclaimed camp spirit moon. An arrow pointed to the right.

“See? We’re here!” I declared cheerfully.

We followed a short path up a low, sloping hill. Two brown rabbits scurried past, nearly in front of our feet. Red and yellow wildflowers swayed along the side of the hill.

When we reached the top, we could see the camp.

“It looks like a real camp!” I exclaimed.

I could see rows of little white cabins stretching in front of a round blue lake. Several canoes were tied to a wooden dock that stuck out into the lake.

A large stone building stood off to the side. Probably the mess hall or the meeting lodge. A round dirt area near the woods had benches around it. For campfires, I guessed.

“Hey, Harry—they have a baseball diamond and a soccer field,” Alex said, pointing.

“Excellent!” I cried.

I saw a row of round red-and-white targets at the edge of the trees. “Wow! They have archery, too,” I told Alex. I love archery. I’m pretty good at it.

I shifted the heavy duffel bag on my shoulder. We started down the hill to the camp.

We both stopped halfway down the hill. And stared at each other.

“Do you notice anything weird?” Alex asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

I noticed something very weird. Something that made my throat tighten and my stomach suddenly feel heavy with dread.

The camp was empty.

No one there.