Camp Deadfall

Maya arrived at Camp Whispering Pines feeling like a total zombie—three hours of sleep, thanks to overthinking whether her haircut screamed "trying too hard." The bus ride had been two hours of silent panic, watching everyone else make instant besties while she sat awkwardly scrolling through Instagram.

"You're on Team Undead," said Counselor Jake, sporting a shirt that definitely needed ironing. "Zombie squad, represent."

Great. Just what she needed—death metaphors and team sports.

But then she saw him: Leo from history class, wearing that oversized flannel that somehow worked. He was on the rival team, which meant he was technically her enemy in tonight's capture-the-flag apocalypse. And okay, maybe she'd been lowkey "spying" on his stories since freshman year, but that was just research, not obsession.

"I saw you at Leo's party last weekend," whispered Chloe, her bunkmate, while they smeared green face paint. "You left early."

Maya shrugged. "Wasn't really feeling it."

"No judgment," Chloe said, handing her a toy rifle. "I heard it was kinda dead anyway."

The game began at dusk. Maya found herself crouching behind the mess hall, heart racing, when she heard it—a heavy rustling in the woods. Not a counselor. Not a camper. Something bigger.

That's when she saw the bear.

Not a cute camp mascot. An actual black bear, nosing through someone's abandoned backpack near the volleyball court. Maya froze, her brain scrambling between fight, flight, and maybe this was just a really intense dream.

She was about to scream when Leo appeared beside her, pulling her down behind a dumpster.

"Don't move," he breathed, shoulder pressed against hers. "They can smell fear. Or something. I saw it on YouTube."

The bear lost interest in the backpack and ambled away into the darkness.

Leo turned to her, face paint smeared, eyes wide. "Did we almost get attacked by a bear?"

"Yeah," Maya managed. "I think we did."

"That's literally the most metal thing that's ever happened to me," Leo said, then laughed. A real laugh, not the performative one he used in class. "Hey, you're Maya, right? From history?"

The zombie game was forgotten. They sat there until counselors called everyone in, talking about everything and nothing, her heart pounding for a completely different reason now.

Maybe camp wouldn't be so dead after all.