So Mr. Ender said we had no choice but to “make camp.” Except we hadn’t really packed a tent, or sleeping bags, or pajamas. (What can I say? I’m a creeper who likes sleeping in his jammies.)

  “You boys know how to build a shelter,” Mr. Ender said. But let’s face it—we really DIDN’T. And after fifteen minutes of hacking at branches with our pathetic pickaxes, we’d only managed to build one wall. It was enough to protect Duke from the sun, I guess. So we all picked a patch of grass and settled in for the day.

  But I gotta say, I didn’t sleep a WINK. Not ONE wink. Mom always says, “The sun will go down again tomorrow.” But here’s the thing: when that sun set, we’d STILL be lost out here by the lake. With no blue wool. No map. And no marked trail to lead us back to camp. So WHAT WERE WE GOING TO DO?

  Yep, that was pretty much the low point of the map-reading contest. No, wait—there was a lower one.

  When we finally got up, Mr. Ender had a genius idea. He said we should climb a hill to see if we could spot our cabins from up high. Well, I led the pack running up that hill. And sure enough, when we got to the top, I could see the rooftops of a couple of cabins way off in the distance. The real clue was the smoke still rising from the roof of the third one. That’s how I knew I was looking at Woodland Survival Camp and not, like, Camp Golem or something. (Unless Chloe had managed to burn down a cabin, too.)

  Anyway, we used our compass to hike back in the direction of those cabins. It took FOREVER, and we were super hungry. I was hoping we’d pass a huge mushroom along the way, but of course, when you’re looking for one, they’re nowhere to be found.

  We finally made it back to camp. And that was when I spotted a blue tuft of wool stuck in a tree. So we hadn’t totally lost our minds. We HAD marked the trail!

  But just as I was reaching for the wool, I heard the strangest sound.

  “WO-LO-LO!”

  And right before my eyes, that blue wool changed to RED. I thought I was dreaming—until I heard cackling behind me. I spun around and found an Evoker, his arms raised above his head as if he had JUST cast a spell. A spell that changes blue wool to red?

  Well, THAT explains why we couldn’t follow our blue wool back to camp.

  The more I think about it, the madder I get. I mean, we could have been lost in those woods for AGES! So forget Johnny the Vindicator. The Evokers just bumped up to number one on my Enemies List.

  I can’t believe that a week ago, I was freaked out about hanging out in the Dark Forest, where we could get gobbled up by a pack of hungry WOLVES.

  But now, I’m starting to think there are scarier things than wolves. Like Evokers who attack us with spells every time we turn around.

  Sure, we made it back to camp this time. But . . . what about NEXT time? Will my camp buddies and I even SURVIVE Survival Night?

  All I can say is, it’s time for Gerald Creeper Jr. to start coming up with some genius ideas. PRONTO.

  DAY 11: WEDNESDAY

  So I just found out that Survival Night is actually Survival NIGHTS. We have to spend TWO nights in the woods! Which I think is really unfair since my cabin buddies and I already spent an extra night out there. We should be getting BUKU bonus points for that.

  Anyway, we leave tonight. Which means before dawn this morning, we gotta roll up our sleeping bags and pack up our tents. And prepare to meet our fate.

  When mail got delivered, I was willing to give Mom one more chance to prove her love. I crossed my toes, hoping that she’d finally sent me a care package—you know, since this might be her last chance to communicate with me. EVER.

  Sam’s mom sent him a whole pack of smoked salmon to take into the woods. I’m a little worried about him smelling like a giant green fish. I mean, talk about WOLF BAIT. But at least he’ll go out knowing his family loved him.

  Me? All I have to take into the woods is a postcard of Cammy riding on a dolphin’s back. Does she even KNOW that her big brother may be about to perish?

  Nope. She probably doesn’t even remember my name.

  The one thing that gives me hope is that Mr. Ender is packing our potions. The potion of invisibility will sure come in handy if a pack of wolves shows up. And the potion of leaping could help us leap over those huge mushrooms—or any giant fangs that sprout—in a single bound.

  Oh, plus, Mr. Ender gave Sam back his slime balls. See, after we found out Evokers could change the color of wool, those trail markers didn’t seem so useful anymore. So Mr. Ender says Sam should smear a little slime on birch trees along the trail. NO mob can get slime off bark—that stuff sticks like glue.

  So we’ve got a couple of things going for us. But I gotta say, there’s this pit of dread in my gut that’s spinning like a mob in a spawner. Something BAD’s going to happen—I can feel it. But WHAT?

  And if I don’t know what it is, how can I come up with a genius way to save the day?

  Meanwhile, Sam is stinking up the cabin with smoked salmon and grinning like a geek over tonight’s big “adventure.”

  But you know what REALLY stinks? Being the only mob in the room that has a clue what’s going down. And not having a clue how to STOP it.

  SIGH.

  DAY 12: THURSDAY MORNING

  OUCH.

  I’m trying to sleep, but I’ve got cactus prickers poking me in the rear. NO, they don’t grow in the Dark Forest. But I guess Mom and Dad didn’t wash my sleeping bag after our trip to the desert last summer. I’m pretty sure I’ve got sand stuck to my feet, too. That’ll feel GREAT when I have to put on my boots and start hiking again.

  Which probably won’t be anytime soon, because we only hiked for about an hour before we hit a stream, and Harold would NOT take another step. But let me back up and tell you how we got here.

  We got our new map—the one with the REAL treasure marked on it. Except instead of a red X, there was this little house. So I guess the treasure is hidden in a house. Mr. Ender even told us what the treasure was so we’d be on the lookout for it. It’s some sort of gold statue called a Totem of Undying.

  And the first cabin to snag it and get it back to camp wins EVERYTHING (or at least a pizza party).

  So we were heading toward that little house on the map, with Duke using the compass and Sam marking slime on every birch tree he could find. I had a tight grip on that map, let me tell you. But as the map started to fill in, I could see water coming up ahead. And from over my shoulder, HAROLD saw it, too.

  The husk practically jumped on my back, he was so scared. And when we got to the edge of the water, he REFUSED to cross it. I’m sure he could picture those Drowned mobs at the bottom of the stream, swimming up to grab our feet and pull us down with them.

  I was hoping Mr. Ender would just let the poor husk go back to camp. But he said we had to stick together—that on Survival Night, no mob gets left behind. So we WAITED. And TRIED to get Harold to cross. Mr. Ender even tried to teleport him across, but I guess husks don’t really get around that way.

  By the time Harold got some courage up, dawn was breaking, and then we had a whole OTHER problem on our hands. Duke started sweating, like he was going to catch fire any second. So we finally had to pitch our tent and call it a night.

  I’m trying to rap myself to sleep, but meanwhile, I’m SURE the other cabins have already reached that little house on the map. The Illagers are probably throwing a party there, dancing around with their Totem of Undying, and laughing at us poor, pathetic mobs who aren’t even halfway there.

  Oh, well. At least we haven’t been hit by an Evoker curse yet. But, hey, the day is still young . . .

  DAY 12: THURSDAY NIGHT

  Mom says that things always look better at night, when the sun goes down. Like, if you go to bed worried, you usually wake up feeling better.

  Except that was NOT how things went down tonight. I woke up thinking that FINALLY we could cross that stream. That Harold would be feeling brave. And we could get a move on and try to make up for lost time.

  But Harold was NOT feeling brave. And it turned out, MR. ENDER wasn’t either. I gotta say, there’s nothing that freaks me out MORE than when the grown-up in charge starts freaking out. And that’s what happened when the rain came.

  Did you know Endermen REALLY don’t like rain?

  I sort of knew it—my buddy Eddy Enderman back home pretty much sits out rainy school nights. But I NEVER in a gazillion years expected our counselor, scary Mr. Ender, to be spooked by a few raindrops.

  You should have seen the guy. He practically dug a hole in the ground when the rain started pitter-pattering down on our tent. And then he said something that my ears can never UN-hear. He said, “You boys are going to have to go on without us.”

  Say WHAT? What happened to “leave no mob behind”?

  Mr. Ender yammered on about how Sam, Duke, and I had plenty of “survival skills.” That we just had to remember everything he’d taught us (which, honestly, I couldn’t remember a LICK of at that moment). He finished with, “Our cabin is depending on you. Make us proud.”

  Well, CRUD. I didn’t buy into any of that hooey, but Sam puffed up like a pufferfish and was all like, “Yes, sir, we’ve got this.” And Duke stood up beside him. And that’s how we found ourselves hiking down a trail WITHOUT a grown-up.

  I mean, Duke had the compass. And I had the map. But I felt like we were heading off to fight the Ender Dragon without any weapons. Then I remembered that we DID have weapons, sort of. We had potions—strapped to Sam’s back. So as soon as we crossed the stream, we pulled out those bottles and figured out a plan.

  The way I saw it, we had to cover as much ground as we could before dawn broke and the sun came up again. So we all took a swig of potion of leaping. It wasn’t exactly like flying, but pretty soon, the three of us were leaping through the woods, bouncing off giant mushrooms and soaring through the trees. It was the MOST fun I’ve had at camp so far, I gotta say. And I could tell Sam and Duke were having a blast too.

  But the potion eventually wore off. SIGH. And then we were all pretty worn out. So we’re taking a break now, resting on a giant mushroom and figuring out our next move.

  The map says that if we keep going southeast, we’ll hit that little house by dawn. So as soon as my buddies are ready, we’re going to get a move on. If I squint, I can ALMOST see that gold statue in the distance. This contest isn’t over YET.

  DAY 12: THURSDAY NIGHT (CONTINUED)

  Aw, crud. CRUD, CRUD, CRUD!!!

  We lost our compass.

  I know. It freaks me out just to write the words. But don’t panic. That’s what I keep telling myself. Sam is sitting on a mushroom snacking on smoked salmon, as if all’s right with the Overworld. And I’m trying to keep it that way, because the LAST thing I need is that slime going all anxious and jittery on me.

  But Duke looks as worried as I feel. Or maybe he just looks guilty. Because while he was leaping, he SOMEHOW let go of that compass. He doesn’t even know WHERE exactly. But it’s long gone now, so no use crying over spilled lava.

  For just a second, there was a glimmer of hope. Duke reminded me that Mr. Ender taught us OTHER ways of figuring out which direction we were going. “With the sun,” Duke said. “The sun sets in the west, so if we can just find the setting sun . . .”

  We both looked up. But those trees were so dense, we couldn’t even see the MOON.

  Then I remembered the other thing Mr. Ender had said. “The clouds move east to west,” I said.

  We looked up again. But we could see the clouds about as easily as we could see the moon. There was nothing but TREES overhead. So, thanks, Mr. Ender. Thanks a LOT for the super-helpful tips.

  It was Sam who bounced off the mushroom and said we should just climb a hill. “Like last time,” he said, reminding us how we’d climbed a hill during the map-reading contest to find our way back to camp.

  Well, DUH. Every once in a while, the slime surprises me. He led the way up the nearest hill, which turned into a really STEEP hill, with a SUPER-slippery trail because of all the rain. I might have pulled ahead of Sam once or twice, because if I fall backward, I’d MUCH rather land on a soft slime than a bony skeleton. But by the time we reached the top, we could see the moon overhead.

  And when we looked down the other side of the hill, we could see something ELSE.

  Yep, I’m pretty sure THAT is the house we’ve been looking for. It’s tiny on our map, but now that we’re closer, I can tell there’s nothing tiny about it.

  And if we get a move on RIGHT NOW, we can make it there before dawn!

  DAY 13: FRIDAY MORNING

  So I’m not a superstitious creeper. Like, even though this is our 13th day at camp, I’m pretty sure we’re having GOOD luck right now—not bad. I mean, even if a black cat crossed our path, I wouldn’t bat an eye (even though I REALLY don’t like cats). Because we made it to the house before the sun came up. And guess what else? We found BEDS to sleep in!

  The house is really more like a MANSION. It’s three stories tall, and filled with a winding maze of hallways and a gazillion rooms. We’re just going to rest for an hour or two, and then we’re going to find that Totem of Undying.

  Sam and Duke are already cashed out on a big bed in the middle of the room. Well, it LOOKED big until Sam crawled in. Poor Duke is probably going to fall off any second now. I’m a “sleep solo” kind of guy, so I climbed the ladder to the loft and found another bed just my size. PERFECT.

  I know I should be catching a few winks after the night we had. But who can sleep at a time like this? Well, SAM can. The slime is snoring.

  Whoa, WAIT. I just heard something else. Is that the door creaking open . . . ?

  DAY 13: FRIDAY MORNING (CONTINUED)

  THEY TOOK SAM AND DUKE!!!

  This house is SWARMING with Illagers! I should have KNOWN an empty house was too good to be true!

  They must have waited till we were in bed. Poor Sam didn’t stand a chance. While those Vindicators were dragging him out of the room, he was practically still sleeping.

  Duke woke up, but the skeleton didn’t put up a fight—like I said, he’s just a bag of bones.

  I know—I SHOULD have done something. I should have leaped off the loft and tackled one of those Vindicators. I should have hollered or thrown a potion or SOMETHING.

  But I didn’t. I froze. And I’m not proud, let me tell you.

  As soon as the Vindicators were gone, I snuck out of bed and tried to follow them.

  I crept down the hall, listening for voices. But this place is so HUGE. And who knows how many MORE Vindicators are here?

  I feel like a silverfish that crawled straight into a spider’s web. I’m stuck—I can’t leave without Sam and Duke. But how am I supposed to go up against a whole group of Vindicators? WITHOUT Mr. Ender?

  “Use your brains.”

  That wasn’t Mom’s voice. It was my own—reminding me that I may not have survival skills, but I DO have some smarts. And I AM a creeper, after all.

  So I crept back into the bedroom and snagged the potion of invisibility out of Sam’s backpack. I grabbed a few slime balls, too. Then I crept back down the hall DETERMINED to check every room in this mansion until I found my buddies—and rescued them.

  I found rooms filled with flowerpots. I found more bedrooms, and a library. I found a storage room FILLED with chests. Then I found a room that scared the gunpowder right out of me.

  Remember when I said I was feeling lucky—and wouldn’t even care if a black cat crossed my path? Well, let’s just say one DID. A GIANT black cat, ready to pounce. I thought it was real when I opened the door to that room, and I nearly blew right out of my creeper skin. Then I saw it was a statue. And it looked kind of like Sam’s cat, Moo. That made me MISS Sam. So I shut the door and kept going. Like I said, I’ll search this place top to bottom till I find my buddies.

  That’s about the time I heard VOICES. I really had to creep when I reached the big dining hall and saw ILLAGERS sitting around a table. Guess who’d joined the Vindicators there? A bunch of EVOKERS. So those mobs were working together now—AGAINST my buddies and me. Did I mention that life is TOTALLY unfair?

  I didn’t see ONE counselor in that dining hall. So somehow, these Illagers had given their own counselors the slip. I don’t know if I felt relieved about that, or horrified.

  Then I saw something else on the long dining table. Something gold. Something shiny. The Totem of Undying! The Illagers had found it! I was so close to that statue now, I could imagine what it felt like. I could imagine GRABBING it. But the Illagers weren’t going to give it up without a fight.

  Besides, first things first. I had to find my buddies. THEN we could worry about getting the statue.

  So I spied on the Illagers as long as it took—and finally they said five words that were MUSIC to my ears: “We put them in JAIL.”

  They HAD to be talking about Sam and Duke. So somewhere in this mansion was a jail cell where I could find my buddies. I decided to work my way DOWN. I mean, where else would a jail be except for in the basement?

  I didn’t need a compass to head south. I just had to find a cobblestone staircase. And when I did, I took those steps two by two. I’m pretty sure I blew through a few spider webs, but I didn’t care. Time was a’ticking.

 

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