Backwards Into Hell

Part Three: Everybody Dies

Abigail's Diary

Saturday 30th October

As sun began to highlight the tent, I woke, shivering under thin blankets, and checked the news.

The police had released details of the latest body. It was John's Dad.

From the pictures that formed most of the article, he seemed nice, smiling behind a counter full of soft breads and cakes, playing sports with his wife, and hugging his daughter. There was barely a footnote about John and his arrest.

As the body was found, several members of the LFG burst from the crowd, attempting to disrupt the investigation. Fortunately, they were promptly apprehended.

I scoffed. Although, it was better than the papers finding out that John was Abe's illegitimate son. They'd have a field day with that.

After re-reading everything I could, I slithered out of the bag and paused.

What could I do? There was no way leaving the tent was safe—especially with a murderer on the loose. So I decided to spend the day inside and become a vampire-like creature, emerging only at night to find food and use the public toilet.

At about noon, as I read Caleb's book for the umpteenth time, a scream echoed through camp and a burst of activity followed. Figures dashed past, shaking the tent walls as they shouted.

The reporters had crossed into the grounds of The Lodge yet again—and I knew what that meant.

My fingers hovered over the tent zip. It would be so easy to climb out, see what was going on, and tell everyone about The Spirit.

Except that was stupid. I'd be chucked out of camp in seconds. So I just sat there, listening, claustrophobic against the bright pink walls.

By mid-afternoon, the news broke.

Family member found dead in tent. Linked to the other murders?

It was a relief, in a way.

As I sat and shed another tear for Sapphire, it was hard not to feel like I'd failed her. She'd given me so much, and I'd left her to die. Alone, and in a horrific way.

It was The Spirit that killed her, I knew. Who else could?

Then again, he didn't seem like the kind to get his hands dirty.

A story about John arrived later. They still hadn't linked him to Abe, but the LFG was already campaigning for his release.

I squeezed my phone tight. He would be fine.

Finally, as the day edged into evening, soft chants echoed through camp. People were protesting right outside The Lodge.

'Police corruption... doesn't stand! Give us our... families back!'

I pulled my knees to my chest and eavesdropped on passersby. Everyone was saying the same thing—the camp was over. With Sapphire dead, the police finally had the grounds to remove us.

Still, I stayed frozen in my tent, refusing to believe it was really happening. The camp had become my home. Even without John and Sapphire, I didn't want to leave.

Then, at what must have been about six pm, two fuzzy figures appeared at the back of my tent. One was short and pudgy, and the other tall and lean, both men. The pudgy one was a police officer—he had the characteristic shape of the hat on his head.

'Sir, you need to leave,' he said.

'Why?' The other figure moved his hands as he made a point. 'We've been here for a week now. There's nowhere else to go.'