Gamble Rogers Camping Novels & Stories

one person. This conversion camp happens twice a year for five months each. I've done this for a year now and supposedly "converted" two gay people which, obviously, isn't true. They're going away out of town anyway, so nobody will know that they didn't actually turn straight. Anyone who doesn't "convert" spends another five months here with the next batch. That will definitely happen to Mr. Drama Queen over here. I'll still get paid for my work, but it won't be as much as when I "convert" someone.

By lunch came about I grabbed my phone and made a call to cancel our lunch plans. “Hey babe, I am sorry but I am on my way back from the rogue camp. The smell down there is terrible. They were right, it's like a month-old rotting flesh and dead fish. I think the Blackblood Pack and their loyal following idiots have been trying to get the rogues to move back off protected land. Dumbasses just want to hunt them down.” I said annoyed. “I haven’t smelt any of that up our way.” He said confusedly why only the smell would be down the hill from the main compound?

“Yeah. He’s got a whole camp full of people. Maybe fifty or sixty rogues. They’re deep in the northern wilderness, way past pack territory. They don’t come out much, and when they do, it’s usually to recruit or steal supplies.” “Where’s the camp?” “I don’t know exactly,” he said quickly. “I’ve only heard stories. Somewhere north of here, past the river. There’s supposed to be a gorge or something. That’s all I know, I swear.” I let go of his jacket and stepped back. He slumped against the wall, clutching his chest. “Tell the others that we’re heading north,” I told my Beta. “Check the maps for a gorge.” The rogue’s eyes widened further. “You’re gonna go out there?”

“Can you give us a rundown of camp?” “Not much of a camp, really,” Gregory explains, glancing toward the kitchen, his eyes lighting up when he sees the waitress approaching with food. “We don’t stay in one spot more than two nights. We can’t risk being easy targets. We don’t pick a campsite until two hours before we settle, and a different wolf makes the call every time.” We don’t talk as we grab the soups, fries, and other appetizers the waitresses set down, eating in silence while they refill our drinks—two each, because they know what’s up.

“Yeah, I wish we could’ve done this a long time ago, under better circumstances.” It’s a feasible plan. It’s basically not hard to run away from Camp Unplugged. What the management and parents are counting on is the fact that, as minors, most of the campers can’t drive and don’t have money to commute. More importantly, once they’re outside the walls of the camp, they have nowhere else to go, having been brought in by their parents in the first place. “All right,” she tells Terra. “Let’s do it.” “Yasss!” Terra exclaims. Then, he shouts: “I love you, Roger!”

Roger liked being able to access the front door quickly if there was an attack so it was the best place for it, or so he liked to think. His un-mated wolves were seen to a long building off the Western side of the pack house, kind of like university dorm style rooms, but it was just for two days. His wolves survive the accommodations they all had reversed cycle air conditioning, a large bed, small wardrobe and an en-suite bathroom. The room also contained a mini bar fridge with snacks and drinks in them, though no alcohol his wolves noted. He'd been outside with Gabby getting his luggage from his vehicle when Gabby had cleared his throat, nudge him and said "Hey Roger, look over there"

I asked knowing it takes a lot for a wolf to get drunk, they need to drink a lot, and I mean like several kegs just to get a good buzz. “Compared to this, the Bar probably would have been the preferred place to be” “Alright” A light bulb went off in my head “Oh I know, sheriff Rogers caught him breaking into the old Factory again after he kicked him out like a million times before” “No” I said shaking my head back and forth - knowing Seth used to love to go see what he can find at the abandoned Food factory, it was usually small stuff he would take back to his pack so those who needed to eat wouldn’t starve, which was usually pups that has been abandoned by their parents or the parents died

"Oh, sorry, am I interrupting anything?" Archie shakes his head before standing up and shaking his hand. "No, man, you're good." "Well, just wanted to let you all know that you're good to go. We're currently setting up in our office and will be done tomorrow night with all of it. Have some fun and don't worry, we'll have it all settled here. I talked to the campgrounds director and told him the rogue situation, so he's putting extra guards up for the night," he says, making me feel better because this whole rogue situation has been keeping me on edge.

But, I know for a fact we’ll be on the road for a while. “My bag is packed,” I tell him. “I’m ready to go whenever you are.” “We need to shower and dress,” he says, more to himself, like he’s mentally checking off a list. I find it odd he’s worried about looking presentable when we’re going to be camping out every night and covered in road dust, but what do I know about traveling through the Roguelands? “I’m sorry I ruined your fishing trip,” I murmur. “You didn’t ruin it. I ruined it. I just woke up in a bad mood.”

“We’re out in Montana right now at a camping music fest. No Name is playing their final night here, and the energy’s unreal. There are tents and vans everywhere, people hanging with their crews, supporting small artists, soaking in the vibes. Highly recommend hitting up a local festival if one’s rolling through your town.” I flipped the camera and panned across the scene outside—colorful tarps, a guy juggling fire, two girls doing glitter makeup in a side mirror. “This is Camp No Name,” I said proudly, zooming in on our ridiculous flag. “Ten out of ten, no notes.”