Fear: 13 Stories of Suspense and Horror

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Introduction

  WELCOME TO THE CLUB

  SHE’S DIFFERENT TONIGHT

  SUCKERS

  THE PERFECTS

  SHADOW CHILDREN

  THE POISON RING

  DRAGONFLY EYES

  JEEPERS PEEPERS

  PINEY POWER

  THE NIGHT HUNTER

  TUITION

  TAGGER

  RAY GUN

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  DUTTON CHILDREN’S BOOKS A division of Penguin Young Readers Group

  _______________PUBLISHED BY THE PENGUIN GROUP__________________

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, U.S.A. ▼ Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario, Canada M4P 2Y3 (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.) ▼ Penguin Books Ltd, 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England ▼ Penguin Ireland, 25 St Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd) ▼ Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty Ltd) ▼ Penguin Books India Pvt Ltd, 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India ▼ Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, North Shore 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.) ▼ Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty) Ltd, 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa ▼ Penguin Books Ltd, Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  “Welcome to the Club” copyright © 2010 by R.L. Stine ▼ “She’s Different Tonight” copyright © 2010 by Heather Graham ▼ “Suckers” copyright © 2010 by Suzanne Weyn ▼ “The Perfects” copyright © 2010 by Jennifer Allison ▼ “Shadow Children” copyright © 2010 by Heather Brewer ▼ “The Poison Ring” copyright © 2010 by Peg Kehret ▼ “Dragonfly Eyes” copyright © 2010 by Alane Ferguson ▼ “Jeepers Peepers” copyright © 2010 by Ryan Brown ▼ “Piney Power” copyright © 2010 by F. Paul Wilson ▼ “The Night Hunter” copyright © 2010 by Meg Cabot ▼ “Tuition” copyright © 2010 by Walter Sorrells ▼ “Tagger” copyright © 2010 by James Rollins ▼ “Ray Gun” copyright © 2010 by Tim Maleeny

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system now known or to be invented, without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who wishes to quote brief passages in connection with a review written for inclusion in a magazine, newspaper, or broadcast.

  The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  CIP Data is available.

  Published in the United States by Dutton Children’s Books,

  a division of Penguin Young Readers Group

  345 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014

  www.penguin.com/youngreaders

  eISBN : 978-1-101-44265-4

  http://us.penguingroup.com

  INTRODUCTION

  ▼ R.L. STINE ▼

  A AAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHH!”

  I know you couldn’t really hear that—but I wanted to start this book with a scream of horror.

  That’s just the first scream. Don’t worry—there will be plenty more. And don’t be surprised if you are the one doing the screaming!

  I love stories with thrills and chills, shocks and twists, and horrifying surprises. If you have opened this book and are reading this introduction, you probably like them, too.

  The people at ITW, the International Thriller Writers, asked me to fill a book with heart-pounding adventures and creepy-crawly mysteries, and I found thirteen stories that fill the bill. Lucky thirteen, right?

  Well, you’ll be lucky if you can make it through these stories without shakes and shudders, chattering teeth, and chills running up and down your back.

  Take, for example, Ryan Brown’s story, “Jeepers Peepers.” Elizabeth thinks she’s going on a normal babysitting job. But why does the baby have to live in total darkness? And why does he keep warning her about mind creepers?

  Or, how about Meg Cabot’s fast-paced thriller, “The Night Hunter”? Nina has a boring job at the mall—until she sees a bank being robbed. She should have stayed away, but now she finds herself at the mercy of a mysterious young man known as the Night Hunter.

  One of my favorites is “The Perfects” by Jennifer Allison. This story grabbed me with its amazing first sentence:

  “The chances are pretty good that I’m going to be killed before daylight, and I can’t help but think this never would have happened if we hadn’t moved to Entrails, Michigan.”

  Wow. That made me keep on reading!

  Heather Graham provides a chilling Halloween story, “She’s Different Tonight.” Of course, it involves a cemetery late at night. I don’t want to give anything away. But there might be a vampire or two lurking among the tombstones.

  And wait till you meet Soo-ling Choi in James Rollins’s thrill-a-minute story, “Tagger.” Soo-ling keeps picturing a disaster that destroys her whole city. Can the mysterious Chinese symbols she paints defeat her horrifying visions?

  I’m not telling.

  And I’m not going to give away any more secrets of our thirteen stories. Lots of thrills and chills await you. I think you should start reading.

  And screaming . . .

  WELCOME TO THE CLUB

  ▼ R.L. STINE ▼

  J J stepped back from the steamy dishwasher, eyes burning. He used his stained apron to wipe sweat off his forehead. His short, black hair felt wet, as if he’d just stepped from a hot shower.

  He pulled the apron over his head, tossed down the dish towel, dried his hands on the legs of his jeans, and started to the open kitchen door. “Taking a five-minute break.”

  Florian turned and gave him the fish-eye. “Didn’t you just take a five-minute break?”

  “Yeah. Last night,” JJ said.

  “Make sure it’s only five minutes.” Florian raised a hairy arm and made a show of checking his watch. He shook his head and slapped his metal spatula on the fry grill.

  JJ stepped out onto the gravel parking lot and sucked in a deep breath of cool night air. The air made his hot face tingle. “I hate this restaurant.”

  Well, he didn’t hate the restaurant. JJ wasn’t afraid of work. He’d had jobs since he was twelve, five years now. He hated Florian, the fat hairball manager. Hated his blobby face, his stringy brown hair, his pig-snout nose, his fat mouth with the brown mole poking off one lip.

  JJ had known guys like Florian back in Texas. Losers who tried to be big by pushing other losers around. Tough guys always on your case, trying to make you feel smaller than you were.

  “All hat and no cattle.” That’s what they called blowhards like Florian in Texas.

  Well, I’m not a loser, JJ thought. But I need this crummy busboy job. Mom is working two jobs, and we’re just barely getting by. Only time I see her is when she’s coming in from one job or heading out to the other. Guess I can put up with Florian for a while. At least he pays in cash.

  JJ heard a girl laugh. He raised his eyes to the back of the dark parking lot. Those kids from his school were back there again, sitting on the fenders of an old Pontiac GTO, smoking and giggling and goofing around.

 
That seemed to be their nightly hangout. JJ knew they could see him in the light from the open doorway. But they ignored him. They ignored him in school, too, which maybe was a break. At least they weren’t smirking at his Texas accent or making fun of his hand-me-down flannel shirts and raggedy jeans.

  JJ had been the new kid in school lots of times, and it was never a picnic. First time up north, though, and being ignored was definitely a relief.

  He was good-looking enough—the dark, serious features he inherited from his dad, and the tall, lanky grace he got from his mom. But Fremont High was big—bigger than some of the towns he’d lived in. And so far, no one had looked at him twice.

  A break. JJ hadn’t had too many breaks in his seventeen years. His dad lost job after job, moved the three of them from hick town to hick town. Then last fall, he moved them up north—and got himself killed in a stupid truck accident.

  Once JJ got over the shock, he decided it was just one more move in his life, one more fresh start. I just got to stay out of trouble. Yes, there’d been some trouble back in Texas. Some suspended-from-school-type trouble. And some bad trouble.

  But who could blame him?

  Behind him, JJ could hear Florian screaming at Julie, the only waitress. “You weren’t born that ugly. You had to grow into it!”

  Julie isn’t ugly, JJ thought. She was plain. But Florian kept insisting if she did herself up nicer, she’d get bigger tips. JJ and Julie both knew that Florian cheated her out of most of her tip money, anyway.

  “Go ahead. Drop another glass!” Florian was shouting. “I’ll take a dozen glasses out of your pay! And don’t backtalk me, girl. Think I don’t know who eats all the breakfast Danish? Think that isn’t stealing?”

  He liked to make Julie go all pale and start her chin quivering. Too bad she really needed her job.

  JJ let out a long sigh. He kicked the gravel with his boot, turned, and slumped back into the steamy kitchen.

  “Where you been? On vacation?” Florian snapped. “Think I pay for your vacations? Don’t give me no looks, punk. I’ll smack you down. No lie!”

  A little before closing time, the kids from the back of the parking lot came ambling into the restaurant. JJ was stacking plates under the counter. He watched them push each other into the blue vinyl booth at the far corner.

  He recognized the girl. Maria Valdez. He noticed her at school. She was sexy and dark, with straight black hair and lots of black eye makeup—black fingernails, too. Not a goth. Just trying to be interesting, he guessed. And she was.

  He also recognized the dude everyone called Bony. He was good-looking in a tough kind of way—long, wavy hair; a tight smile; steely gray eyes, cold eyes; and a tiny stud in one ear. He dressed tough, too, in black T-shirts with heavy-metal-band logos and straight-legged black denims, a frayed leather jacket with the word KILLERS in red across the back.

  JJ saw two other guys he didn’t recognize. One of them had his face in a portable game player and was thumbing frantically. The other guy was big, like a football linebacker. He had a Red Sox cap pulled down over his forehead. He was holding the plastic menu upside down, pretending to read it.

  JJ grabbed a handful of silverware and started to their table. “Hi.” Maria greeted him with a smile. The others turned to stare at him. “We’ve seen you in school, right?”

  “He’s the new kid,” the big dude said.

  JJ nodded. “Yeah. I’m the new guy. JJ.”

  Bony narrowed his eyes at him. “JJ? Does that stand for anything?”

  “No,” JJ replied. “Just initials. It’s a Texas thing.”

  Maria leaned close and raised her dark eyes to him. “Can you get us free Cokes?” she whispered.

  He wasn’t sure he heard her. “Excuse me?”

  “Come on, man,” Bony said. “No one’s watching. Free Cokes. You can do it, right?”

  “No,” JJ said. He turned to see where Florian was. Probably in back. “I don’t think so. I need to keep this job. I—”

  Maria put her hand on his. She had a very sexy smile. “You can do it, JJ. . . . It’s just Cokes.”

  “Julie, get your butt over to that table!” Florian’s shout made JJ jump.

  “Why is the idiot busboy talking to the customers?” Florian yelled. He slapped his fat hands on the counter. “JJ, get back to the kitchen with the other cockroaches!”

  JJ could feel his face grow hot. He knew he was blushing. Maria laughed. She squeezed his hand. JJ dropped the silverware on the table and hurried to the kitchen. “Sorry, sir. Sorry.”

  A few minutes later, he saw Florian go down to the cellar to deal with the garbage. JJ waited a short while to make sure he wasn’t coming right back up. Then he strode to the soda dispenser and poured four Cokes for Maria and her friends.

  Julie saw what he was doing, but she didn’t care. She helped him punch the right keys on the cash register to make it look like the kids had paid.

  Bony flashed him a thumbs-up. The other two guys grinned at him. “You’re okay, dude. Be true to your school, right?” That made them all laugh.

  He could hear Florian lumbering up the stairs. JJ hurried back to the dishwasher. Why did he give them free Cokes? To put it to Florian. And well . . . maybe he was tired of being ignored. All those hours in school, silent, with no one to talk to. Maybe he needed a few friends.

  Especially Maria?

  Florian burst into the kitchen and gave JJ a shove. “Hey, worthless, didn’t you hear me calling you to come down and help?”

  “Sorry, sir,” JJ replied with his best Texan politeness. “Please don’t shove me, sir.”

  “Shove you? I’ll smack you upside the head!” the fat blob shouted. “What are you going to do, sue me?”

  After work, Maria, Bony, and the other two guys were still at the back of the parking lot. JJ stretched his arms above his head, shook off the steamy air of the kitchen that clung to his skin, his clothes. He headed to their car, his boots kicking up gravel as he walked.

  Maria sat on the half-rusted hood of the GTO. Bony had an arm around her waist. The other two leaned on the side of the car.

  “Thanks for the free drinks, man,” Bony said. He reached his free hand out, and he and JJ touched knuckles.

  “No problem,” JJ muttered. He had his eyes on Maria, and she knew it. Her dark eyes flashed.

  “That’s Sammy and Eduardo.” Bony pointed to the other two guys. “They don’t go to school anymore.”

  “What do you guys do?” JJ asked.

  Eduardo shrugged. “Whatever we can get away with.”

  All four of them laughed. JJ thought about laughing, but it was too late. Maria had a great laugh, he decided. Very open. He liked the way she tossed back her head when she laughed, and her hair swung back on her shoulders.

  “Well, thanks again, man,” Bony said, patting JJ’s shoulder, like he was a dog. “We could pay for the Cokes, you know. We were just kinda testing you.”

  JJ took a step back. “Testing me?”

  Bony nodded. “You know. See if you had any guts.”

  JJ felt his jaw clench. “I’ve got guts,” he said, staring Bony in the eyes.

  “Well, we like to test people,” Bony said, squeezing Maria’s waist. “In case they want to hang with us.”

  “It takes a special dude,” Sammy said. He had a strange, scratchy voice, like a cartoon character. “It’s a club, you know.”

  JJ shook his head. A breeze fluttered his flannel shirt. It brought a chill to the back of his neck. “A club?”

  The three guys nodded. They had strange smiles on their faces. But their eyes were serious. “The Killers,” Maria said. “That’s us.” Bony turned and showed off the word KILLERS embroidered on the back of his leather jacket.

  Bony hardened his stare. Like he’s trying to invade my brain or something, JJ thought.

  “If you want to join our club, there’s an initiation,” Bony said softly.

  JJ looked away. “Like what?”

  Bony didn
’t have a chance to answer. The kitchen door of the restaurant swung open, sending a flood of light over the parking lot. “You punks better get outta here!” Florian screamed. He filled the doorway, blocking most of the light. JJ saw he was swinging a butcher knife. “I already called the cops. You jerks got maybe a minute to scram outta my parking lot!”

  JJ ducked behind the side of the car. Did Florian see him? He didn’t want to lose his job because of these guys. They were scrambling into the car. A hand grabbed JJ’s. Maria. She pulled him into the backseat.

  The car squealed away, shooting up a shower of gravel. JJ pressed against Maria and ducked his head. He glimpsed Florian’s angry scowl and the big blade of the knife swinging in front of him.

  They roared through town, laughing like lunatics. JJ laughed, too. Something broke free in him. For a while, he thought he was flying. Maria’s hair brushed his face. She smelled like flowers.

  They stopped in Fremont Park, across from the high school. Bony killed the engine and the lights. They dove out of the car and sprawled in the dew-wet grass. They were all breathless and giddy.

  “It’s a club, see,” Bony said, as if they hadn’t been interrupted. “But I don’t know if you’re man enough for the initiation.”

  JJ gulped in the cool, fresh air. “Try me.”

  “The name says it,” Eduardo told him. He pounded the back of Bony’s jacket. “KILLERS, see?”

  “I don’t see,” JJ said.

  “That’s the initiation,” Maria whispered. Her breath tickled his ear. Was she coming on to him?

  “Guess I have to spell it out,” Bony said. He tore up a handful of grass and let it sprinkle over Maria’s legs. “You have to kill someone.”

  “Huh?” JJ blinked at him.

  Bony grinned. “That’s all there is to it. We have to know you really want to be with us. Friends for life, see.”