Cabin 18 and the Missing Kids Pt 3
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It only took a few minutes to find the cafeteria (a large cement platform covered with a huge wooden pavilion and eighteen large handmade tables and benches) and spot the table with their cabin number on it. Half of the table was already filled with girls, laughing and giggling with each other. Grimacing, Danny sat at the very end of the table. Thankfully, it was at the back of the platform, so his back was to the surrounding forest, and he only had to worry about the kids at the tables in front of him.
He was so glad Dash wasn’t here. He could only imagine how much worse the boy would have made everything for Danny.
Damian immediately sat right across from him, scowling down the table at the girls giggling and pointing at him. Tim, on the other hand, hesitated, eyes lingering on the open spot to Danny’s left, before sighing and sitting down next to his brother.
Before anyone could try to start a conversation, or Ancients forbid, one of the girls moved closer, the man Danny had talked to earlier clapped his hands and shouted for everyone to quiet down.
“Greetings, everyone!” The man cheered, his bright orange shirt standing out amongst the sea of children. “My name is Hector. Welcome to Camp Mahkwa Ahtawaani! I’m so glad everyone has chosen to join us this year!”
“Camp Mahwhatist?” one of the girls asked, turning to look at the one next to her.
“Mock-qua,” the girl replied, rolling her eyes before continuing, “and before you ask, it’s oct-a-won-y. Camp Mock-qua Oct-a-won-y.”
“Camp Bear Tree?” Danny mutter glancing to the side where more adults in bright orange stood. The older lady from before was staring right at him, face stern. Well, that wasn’t creepy.
“What?” Tim asked, turning to look at him.
“Nothing,” Danny denied, quickly turning away and focusing on the rest of Hector's speech.
“I am happy to announce that the camp is celebrating its 88th opening anniversary! We’ve been a safe place for kids to reconnect with nature since 1918! Camp Mahkwa Ahtawaani is proud to claim the title of being one of the first and longest-standing camp programs invented here in our magnificent Shawnee National Forest.”
The kids clapped loudly as the man paused, smiling brightly at them in what seemed to Danny as forced cheerfulness.
“Safe?” One of the older boys sitting at table three scoffed, “What about all those missing kids, huh?”
Immediately, the younger kids quieted, glancing around at eachother in growing panic. Before they could start freaking out, Hector quickly cut in, “Unfortunate accidents. It happens everywhere, every year. A child ignores the rules and wanders off. There’s nothing to worry about if you all just follow the rules and stick to the trails.”
The kids settled a little, though still shared nervous glances. The boy who spoke scoffed, but sat back, not adding anything else. Tim shared a glance with Damian before sneakily pulling out his phone and typing something.
Danny rolled his eyes and leaned back. A twig snapped off to the left, drawing his attention. Turning his head, Danny watched as the small bear from earlier poked its head out of a bush, looking all around the hidden clearing just out of sight before slowly stumbling out and to the right, pausing once in the middle, slowly turning its head, and meeting Danny’s eyes.
Freezing, Danny waited to see what it would do. It stood there for a long moment before slowly continuing its way across the clearing. It broke eye contact right before entering the bush, quickly disappearing again. Danny wanted to follow it, though he couldn’t quite tell if it was because he truly was that bored with the camp already or if it was because its mother might be kind enough to put him out of his misery.
“Speaking of the rules,” Heckor continued, “Rule number one: Stay on the clearly marked paths at all times. Those of you who break this rule will deal with an appropriate punishment, decided by your group's leader. Rule number two: All children must be accompanied by two or more children when not in their cabin. Those found to have broken this rule will be reprimanded first, then punished if it occurs a second time. There will not be a third.”
Danny snorted, there was definitely going to be a third if the looks on some of theses kid’s faces meant anything.
“Rule number three!” Hector continued, turning to look at the other side of the camp as he passed through the tables, “All children must be inside their cabins with the door locked by the time the sun sets. The only exception is group activities at night. Your group leader will check in to make sure you’re all following this rule.”
“Rule Number four: If your group leader orders you to do something, do it.” Hector turned again, resting his hands on his hips as he smiled, “Now, first things first; Group Leaders.”
The young adults and older teenagers dressed in orange shirts stepped forward and away from the rest of the adults. Most of them looked excited. Some… yeah. They definitely didn’t want to be here. Mood.
“We’ll be splitting you all up into groups; these will be the kids you’ll be spending the rest of your time here with, so try and get along. Girls on this side, boys over here. Hop to it, everyone. Hop to.”
Groaning, Danny pushed himself up and trudged his way over to the growing group of boys. Tim and Damian joined him, standing close but not enough to be in his personal space. They both looked like they would rather be anywhere else than here, eyeing the group of boys with open disdain.
Snorting, Danny shoved his hands in his pockets and watched as the chaos grew louder. “Cabins 1, 7, and 11, over here!” Some blond guy shouted, his teeth sparkling white as he cheerfully waved for the boys to see. A large mob of kids quickly scampered over, excitedly chatting with one another.
“Cabins 4, 13, and 17, over here,” A green-haired man called out, grumpily waiting on the grass and in the warm sun. More of the boys trudged over, whining about not being in the shade.
“Cabins 2, 5, and 9, over here, please!” A short girl cheered, clapping her hands and gesturing for her group to join her at one of the tables.
“CABINS 8, 14, AND 16!” One of the older group leaders called out, standing like a military sergeant. The boys reluctantly made their way over, nervously muttering as the man somehow stood even straighter.
“Cabins 6, 10, and 15!” A purple-haired girl called out. She was out on the grass as well, but in a shaded area.
Finally, Danny’s group was called “Cabins 3, 12, and 18. Stay here, please.” Turning around, Danny spotted the boy who had called out. He was tall and had brown hair. He smiled at them, but not overly excitedly like the blond boy or the short girl.
They didn’t need to move, seeing as they were the only ones left standing there.
“Alright, boys, my name’s Andrew,” Andrew greeted, plopping down on one of the table benches and resting his arms on his knees. “This is your group. Look around, remember each other's faces. You’ll have time to get to know each other later, for right now, all you need to do is remember who you have to stick with. Got it? Good.”
Danny glanced around, noting that the boy who had spoken earlier was in his group, but other than him, no one else stood out. He half-heartedly notes their faces anyway.
“Split yourselves into groups of three; these will be the kids you stick with in all our group activities. You’re responsible for the other two in your team; it’s your job to keep them from breaking the rules. Try to keep each other out of trouble, hear me?”
Damian immediately turned to Danny, a scowl on his face, “I shall not accept anyone else in my group. I will not-”
Tim cut him off, “What he means to say,” he glared, then turned back to face Danny, “is that it would be rather inconvenient if we were stuck with someone annoying. We might as well stick together, seeing as we all share a cabin.”
“Right…” Danny slowly agreed, eyeing the two in confusion. What were they so worried about? Rabid Fangirls? He could honestly careless who he was grouped with, as long as they left him alone, he was game.
“Cool,” Andrew spoke up after a few minutes. “One group at a time, I need you to tell me your names and cabin number. Once I get everyone listed, I’ll head over and get it filed in our system. You guys can chill here while you wait.”
“What was it you said earlier?” Tim asked, standing next to Danny as they waited in line.
“Huh?” Danny asked, tilting his head for a moment before finally remembering, “Oh, right. Yeah. I was just trying to figure out the camp name. Pretty spot on, really.”
“Oh?” Tim asked, tilting his head, “How so?” Damian turned with a lifted brow, also seemingly curious in his answer.
“Mahkwa Ahtawaani. I believe the words mean Bear and Tree in the Miami-Illinois language. Mahkwa also sounds like the Ojibwe word Mahkwa, which means Black Bear. Though I could be wrong.”
“Right, and you just know that because?” One of the boys behind them asked, joining the conversation.
“I like learning about folklore and stuff, sometimes this leads me to researching Native languages so I can translate some of their stories,” Danny shrugged, stepping forward when another group of boys finally finished talking with Andrew.
“Names,” Andrew sighed, flipping to the next page and holding his pen as he waited.
“Danny Fenton, Damian Wayne, and Tim Wayne. All Cabin 18,” Danny listed, shrugging when Tim raised an eyebrow at him. “Right, Next!” Andrew called, still writing.
The three of them moved to the side, stopping when a new voice spoke up, “Wayne?” It was the boy from earlier, the one who interrupted Hector. He had shaggy dark brown hair with red dyed ends, green eyes, and freckles. He looked about eighteen years old and clearly came from a wealthy family, if the name-brand clothes he wore meant anything. “As in Wayne Enterprises?” he asked, voice light with surprise and what Danny was really hoping wasn’t anticipation.
“Yes,” Tim sighed, sending the boy a small, polite smile, before turning away in a clear sign of wanting to be left alone. The boy happily ignored it, “What could you two have possibly done to get Bruce Wayne to send you here, of all places?”
“Nothing of your concern,” Damian sniffed, crossing his arms and glaring at the older boy.
“Right, because one of the most paranoid men in the world sending two of his kids to a camp known for losing kids isn’t suspicious as fuck.”
“He’s not paranoid,” Tim disagreed, latching a hand around one of Damian’s arms and pulling him back. “And as my brother said, it’s none of your business.”
“Sure,” the boy agreed, smiling cruelly at the two, “He isn’t paranoid, fine. Still doesn’t explain why he allowed you here.” he paused, before smiling even wider, “Oh, I know.” He leaned forward, “He probably got tired of your existence and doesn’t want to deal with all the drama from un-adopting you. He hopes you’ll go missing so he can sweep the fact he knew you under a rug and move on with his life.”
The boy leaned back, crossing his arms across his chest with a smirk, “I’m right, aren’t I?”
Danny bit his lip, holding himself back from interfering. This wasn’t his problem. There was no reason he should get involved here. No camp drama, not when he’s supposed to be ditching the place and dealing with Vlad as soon as possible. Drama would only lead to more eyes on him.
A glance to the side was all it took to crumble his resolve; Tim was glaring, but the comments had clearly gotten to him, and Damian looked absolutely murderous.
“Not even close,” Danny rebuked, crossing his arms and pointedly eyeing the boy up and down in boredom. He made sure to frown just like Sam did when she saw something that disgusted her. If Rich Boy McGee wanted to pick a fight just because Tim was richer than him, both in wealth and family, then Danny ‘Fake it till you make it’ and ‘unwilling heir to Dalv Co’ and ‘Best friends with Sam Mother Hecking Manson’ Fenton would gladly square up. Sam was going to be so proud of him later.
Tim so owed him if he got punched for this.
“While I’ve no doubt that that’s the reason you’re here, seeing as your clothes are an obvious ploy for the attention you so clearly don’t get at home, and your repulsive attitude a clear sign of just how unwanted you actually are. You could not have been more wrong. That's not even close to why they are here. No, they’re here because I invited them to join me and they agreed.”
Damian was studying him now, and Tim was watching him with narrowed eyes. Luckily, they both stayed silent as the boy reared back, scoffing, “And just who the hell do you think you are? Fenton, never heard of you before.”
“Good,” Danny sniffed, trying to fully embody everything he knew about Sam at her most petty and annoyed, “I would have been rather disappointed if someone as lowly and uneducated as you had been gossiping about me like some undignified lady at a gala. But if you must know, let me reintroduce myself.”
Standing straight, shoulders back, and a smirk he only ever used for Vlad, Danny carelessly held out his hand, “Daniel Jackson Fenton-Masters, Heir of Dalv Co and Fenton Works. Pleasure to meet you.”
Danny ignored Tim’s surprised choke and Damian’s quickly hidden widening eyes, solely focused on the slow dawning horror on the older boy's face as he immediately spotted just what Danny had been wearing this whole time.
Danny has never been more thankful that he let Sam infect his closet and fashion sense than he has in this very moment. Because it didn’t matter whether the boy could recognize the expensive fabric that made up Danny’s deceptively plain t-shirt, or the fact that his jeans were tailored to fit him. No, sitting innocently on his pale, skinny wrist sat a very recognisable and extremely expensive custom watch.
A watch only those in the top 1%, no, the top 1% of the 1%, would ever dare even think of buying. A watch Danny had taken from Vlad’s room out of spite during one of his many unwanted stays in the man’s house, knowing it was stupidly expensive because of Sam’s reaction, and that he had carelessly been wearing for over two months now.
A custom Patek Philippe Grandmaster Chime.
A watch brand, even those less wealthy than the Mansons, would recognise in a heartbeat.
“Oh,” the boy wheezed.
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