Camp Campbell — Flagpole Clearing

[Campers are scattered, lounging near the flagpole. David is bouncing, overly enthusiastic.]

David (clapping too hard): Okay campers! Remember, teamwork builds character, character builds confidence, confidence builds—

Max (arms crossed, unimpressed): —failure, statistically speaking.

Nikki (bouncing): I like failure! It’s dramatic!

Neil (adjusting glasses, annoyed): You’re not supposed to like failure.

[Heavy, deliberate footsteps crunch on the dirt. Everyone freezes.]

CJ (squinting): Uh… new camper or hallucination?

Gwen (already irritated, arms crossed): Neither. It’s trouble.

[Vera stops mid-step at the edge of the clearing. Her posture stiffens, shoulders rigid, eyes zeroed in.]

Vera (low, clipped): You.

[She strides forward, precise, boots hitting the ground hard. Hwan and Dang appear behind her, tense.]

Hwan (low, urgent): Vera… don’t.

Dang (grim): Really bad idea.

[Vera stops right in front of the silent figure. Fists clenched, glare sharp.]

Vera (cold, determined): You ran. No warning. No goodbye. They searched. I was questioned. You are state property. You are coming back.

[Campers recoil. Nikki gasps, Max smirks, Neil mutters data.]

Neil (whispering): That is literal.

Max (standing, impressed): Yeah, that’s a grab.

David (stepping forward, panicked): Hey! This is a camp! Hands off!

[Vera grabs the sleeve firmly, testing resistance.]

Vera (flat, unblinking): Walk. Or carried.

Gwen (stepping in, deadly calm): Let go. Now.

[Vera doesn’t acknowledge her. Grip tightens slightly.]

Daniel (leaning on a tree, amused): Ohhh, committed. I love it.

Hwan (pressing a hand to her shoulder, tense): America. Cameras. Witnesses.

Dang (short, firm): Prison.

[Vera exhales slowly, unrelenting, and releases the sleeve. She steps back.]

Vera (to Hwan and Dang, sharp): We go.

[They turn. Vera pauses, still glaring at the figure, voice low and absolute.]

Vera (cold promise): Next time… no camp.

[They disappear into the trees. Silence stretches. Campers slowly shuffle.]

David (trying to recover, flailing hands): Uh… maybe we just do arts and crafts for a bit!

Gwen (lighting cigarette, deadpan): Or call the police. That worked too.

Max (leaning back, smirking): She’s coming back.

[Nikki fidgets, eyes wide. Neil scribbles frantically. The tension lingers like fog.]