Free Camp Wacko: The Drones of Summer by Faith Wilkins Page B

from his face, a confused frown taking its place. “What’s wrong?”
    I wasn’t sure where to start. Everything was wrong. All I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry. What Dr. Wackerson had said to me tonight was the final straw. I was done. Either Agent Cooper kept his word or I would find my own way out of this mess.
    “Lily.” Dustin gently placed his hands on my shoulders, steadying me. I had started to shake without realizing it. “I will do everything in my power to stop my dad from going through with this crazy plan of his. I’m going to need your help.” He searched my face. “Are you up to it?”
    Wiping away a stray tear, I could only nod. For some reason, my voice box refused to work at the moment.
    It continued to be stubborn as Dustin gave my shoulders a soft squeeze before climbing back into the golf cart. I watched him go, staying frustratingly silent. He had only gone a few yards before he suddenly stopped and looked back.
    “You look great, by the way.”
    He drove off, going as fast as he possibly could. I could hear him whooping with joy from the rush as I turned to go inside, wondering why I hadn’t been able to tell him anything.

Trouble with a Capital T
    ALL I COULD hear were the huffs and puffs of the other runners. Sweat ran down my forehead along my nose, clothes clinging to my body. I felt like barfing. My vision was getting blurry and it wasn’t because I had left my glasses in the dorm room. There was a loud pounding in my head that pulsed through my ears.
    We had been running this track for the past hour. The heat was getting to be unbearable. You’d think I’d be used to this, since I used to run the track every day at my school back home, but this was far worse. For one thing, this track was way bigger. Furthermore, I had never had to run for this long. I don’t think even the cross-country team had to run this long. There were two-minute breaks, of course. But they were only long enough for us to get some water and rest for a second. Then we were off again.
    I watched Dustin zoom past everyone. I still hadn’t been able to tell him the whole truth. I certainly couldn’t do it now. He ran a whole lap ahead of me. Why did he even put himself through this stuff? He was the headmaster’s son. He’d probably already been trained. He had told me once that he had learned everything he needed to know by the time he was around eight. So he was just showing off. What made things worse was that True trotted right behind him. As you may have already guessed, I’m not that great of a runner. Never have been. Probably never will be.
    I thought back to last night. Once Dustin left, I had immediately tried to contact Agent Cooper. However, when I pressed the special button on my handy-dandy frames, nothing happened. Only snowy static filled my vision. I was forced to remove the glasses entirely. I tried shaking them, tapping them against my knee. Nothing worked. The lenses showed only static. When I pressed the button again, the static cleared, but the overall problem still remained. I could no longer communicate with the FBI.
    Trying hard not to panic, I had quickly checked the recording device. Well, that was still working at least. There wasn’t any need to keep recording, because Dr. Wacko had said pretty much everything they needed to hear. Now all I had to do was to make sure it stayed safe and hidden. I decided to hide it under the bed in one of the many new shoe boxes found in the closet.
    Right after I had slid the shoe box under the bed, True had arrived, appearing just as drained as I felt. She told me Dr. Wacko had plans for her too. She would be second in command. Apparently that meant she’d be overseeing all the kids that entered this advanced academy. She would also become the main recruiter and motivator. True was as creeped out as I was. There was no doubt about it. This psycho had to be stopped. Since I had no idea how to regain contact with Agent Cooper, I would