Goblin Valley Campground Novels & Stories

We were riding for more than six hours without stopping, but at least we finally managed to pass the mountains. Kaan told me that we were an hour away from reaching the Sombra Valley, where the rest of the army should gather and build the war camp. My stomach churned at that thought. Traveling alongside a few assholes was exhausting enough, and I could barely imagine staying in a place filled with more than two hundred bloodthirsty bastards who might be even more brutal than those from the Elite Squad.

Maybe he was visiting Moab, she thought, but she struggled to convince herself of it. In addition to the single overnight camps, some weekends with Zoe were quietly stolen, granted as sleepovers or playdates with new friends made during the weekly camps. The RV resort was constantly full of summer travelers, with each vacated RV pad filled the same day. Similarly, Moab’s population had swelled, the streets and businesses flooded with tourists and outdoor enthusiasts as the summer marched on.

This felt like a time of celebration, and not a time for grief. In total, there was 13 of us - a baker's dozen. All of us had graduated from the Cumberland Valley High School together. We had decided on a campground that was just south of the New Jersey Turnpike in Pennsylvania, as none of us were particularly prepared for a full-on wilderness experience. The campground had luxuries such as running water, and little poles near each site that provided electricity so that we could keep our cellphones charged. There was also bathrooms and showers in a building within walking distance, but otherwise it was a pretty authentic camping experience. We would sleep in tents, and eat the majority of ou

Park on the gravel shoulder meant for people having car trouble and take the short walk out to the rocky outcropping that makes a half-moon shape, offering an unusual cage of privacy. As a teen, my friends and I would come camping out here. It’s not a legal campground which is why the rocks are so helpful for concealment for building tents, tending fires… And other activities. Rex follows me, just as he did five years ago. A California boy, but not a desert boy. He was freaked out by the lack of streetlamps and the distant call of coyotes. I had to assure him they would never be interested in him since there was no meat on his bones.

From atop a hill, I gaze upon a sparkling lake, canoes neatly stacked on a wooden rack, and inner-tubes tied to a weathered dock. This picturesque setting is none other than Camp Rees, a summer camp nestled in the Poconos Mountains, owned by Ashton's aunt. However, despite the serene beauty surrounding me, I remain fully focused on my duty. With three hundred raffle guests ranging from eighteen to forty-five years old, I cannot afford to let my guard down.

The goblin child saved him from another round of nagging from his senior brother as well. “My brother and I live in the goblin tribe north of the Three Snake River, two days’ carriage ride away along this mountain range going east,” the goblin child said, his voice shaking from all the strange stares that he’s receiving. But he held on. “Majority of these children were already in the carriage when we were captured, so they must also be from the villages further east of the Three Snake River.”

But boredom has finally won out over whatever deeply-rooted awkwardness I have about him, and now’s the time. The camp itself is actually in a brilliant location—deep near the edge of the Winterfall border, close to Canada. Canadian packs have remained neutral, so if things go south, we can make a quick escape. And aside from the brutal cold, the camp is surprisingly well-equipped. There’s a lake nearby, perfect for hunting, fishing, and bathing. Caroline keeps calling this a vacation, which only proves that she is unwell.

It was indeed worth the effort he took of collecting their dinner from the nearest Red Rock Grille and negotiating with the staff here for an overnight stay. Eva gasped with amazement at seeing the scenic Verde River with its three lagoons gushing alongside the campsite. Were they camping here? Would she sleep in a camp with him? A million questions flashed across her head, but Alexander drove further ahead, away from the campground to the log cabin circle tucked behind trees. It was a perfect haven, far from all the chaos.

ZAIA. The Moonlight Waterfall Pack. This pack used to be the home of Valerie’s mother before she met her father. Growing up, although Valerie and I were from different packs, attending the same college brought us together. Valerie had wanted to get away from everything after her mother’s death, wanting to just be in a new place so she could heal. The Moonlight Waterfall Pack is small, and it usually avoids making enemies. It took me over three hours to drive from my pack to get here.

And I wasn’t alone. I could hear them breathing. At least four. Maybe more. The shuffle of boots on packed earth. The click of claws on stone. The low murmur of voices—not words, just sounds, the lazy conversation of wolves who’d been waiting for something to happen. Valerie, I thought. She brought me somewhere. A camp. A hideout. The cabin had been a decoy. This was where she really wanted me. --- I opened my eyes.