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Camp Fear Ghouls

R. L. Stine




  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  ‘Three Evil Wishes’ Excerpt

  About R.L. Stine

  1

  “Lizzy, I’m scared!” Caroline Hurt whispered. She dug her fingers into my arm. “My hands are shaking!”

  We pushed through the crowded school hallway. “Caroline, relax!” I ordered my best friend. “We’re going to get in. Everybody says so.”

  I wished I felt as sure as I sounded. For two days I had barely been able to eat. Or sleep.

  Why? Because today was the day the Waynesbridge Scouts—the coolest scout troop in Waynesbridge Middle School—picked their new members.

  “I heard they slipped the invitations into the lockers last period. They’re in pink envelopes,” Caroline whispered. She ran her fingers through her short blond hair. Then she tugged down her favorite navy blue T-shirt. I knew she wanted to make sure she looked good for the big moment.

  I tightened the scrunchie holding my straight brown hair. I might as well look good too, I thought. Even if it was just to open my locker and look for a pink envelope.

  “It’s not that big a deal,” I told Caroline, trying to sound like I didn’t really care.

  But of course, I did. At Waynesbridge Middle School, every girl who’s anybody is a Waynesbridge Scout. It’s like a popularity contest. If you’re picked, you’re cool. If you’re not picked—well, then you’re a loser.

  That’s why we were so nervous.

  Usually, I’m not that into the kinds of things the Waynesbridge Scouts do. You know. Fixing each other’s hair and talking about boys. Caroline likes that stuff. I prefer softball. Camping. Climbing trees.

  Most of all, I’m into scary stuff. Like ghost stories and monsters and horror movies.

  But I’m definitely not into being a loser. So I was ready to do whatever it took to be a good Waynesbridge Scout.

  Caroline clutched my arm. We shoved toward our lockers.

  “Oh, Lizzy, what if we didn’t make it? We’ll be total losers! No one will ever talk to us again!” Caroline moaned and grabbed her stomach. “Ohhhh! I think I’m going to throw up!”

  “Don’t,” I ordered.

  Caroline and I have been best friends since the first grade. She’s older than me. Nine whole months older. And taller by three inches. But she can be a total wimp. Whenever she’s nervous, she threatens to throw up.

  People tease me about being the shortest kid in the whole seventh grade. It makes me mad. But that’s why Caroline and I are best friends. She has always stuck up for me.

  Finally, we stopped in front of our lockers. They stood right next to each other.

  “I can’t go first,” Caroline whimpered. “You do it, Lizzy.”

  “Why don’t we open them at the same time?” I suggested.

  “Good idea,” Caroline agreed. “On the count of three.”

  We spun the combinations on our locks.

  This is it, I thought. My heart thudded in my chest. I squeezed my eyes closed and counted in a shaky voice. “One, two—”

  “Three!” we said together.

  We flung our doors open and stared in.

  “Yes!” Caroline shrieked. She pumped her fist in the air. “It’s here! It’s here!”

  I searched through my locker. My backpack, my baseball cap, a couple of overdue library books, and my gym suit sat inside.

  But nothing else.

  No pink envelope.

  No invitation to the Waynesbridge Scouts.

  “I didn’t make it,” I whispered. I stared blankly into my locker.

  Caroline clutched her pastel pink invitation to her chest. “Oh, Lizzy, it has to be there.” She got down on her knees and tossed all my stuff out of the locker. She used only one hand. She held her own invitation tightly in the other.

  In seconds, my locker was completely empty. But still—no pink envelope.

  “No way. This has to be a mistake,” Caroline insisted.

  But I knew the awful truth. “It’s no mistake,” I said. “I wasn’t asked to join. And I know why.”

  Caroline glanced up at me. “Why?”

  “Arden Sitwell,” I growled. My lip curled into a snarl. “Arden’s mother is the scout leader. And Arden hates me for not inviting her to my birthday party last year.”

  Caroline’s eyes widened. “You think Arden kept you out of the club for that?”

  “It has to be.”

  Behind me I could hear the giggles of the Waynesbridge Scouts. I turned to look at them.

  Arden had perfect chin-length blond hair. She stood right in the middle of the scouts. They talked and laughed loudly.

  “We’ll show them,” I murmured, narrowing my eyes at Arden. “We don’t need their stupid club. We’ll form our own club. It will be way cooler than the Waynesbridge Scouts. Right?”

  I waited for Caroline to agree with me, but she didn’t say a word. Instead, she began placing things back in my locker.

  “Right, Caroline?” I repeated, tapping her on the shoulder. “We’ll form our own club. Right?”

  Caroline stopped. She stared down at the pink envelope in her hand. “Listen, Lizzy,” she mumbled. “I’ve wanted to be a Waynesbridge Scout since I was six. It means a lot to me.”

  “Well, it meant a lot to me too!” I put my hands on my hips. “You’re not going to join without me, are you?”

  Caroline didn’t answer.

  “Are you?” I asked again.

  “I don’t see why we have to do everything together,” she finally blurted out.

  My jaw dropped.

  “What?” I cried. “I can’t believe you! You’re my best friend. How could you do this to me?”

  Caroline raised her head and finally stared me in the eye. “I’m not doing anything to you. I’m joining a club.”

  “Yes. The club we were both supposed to be in. And you’re joining without me!” My voice became louder and louder. But I couldn’t stop it.

  “Can I help it if my mom would let me have only four friends to my birthday party? How could I know that Arden would get so upset that I didn’t invite her?” I demanded.

  Caroline glanced nervously over her shoulder. Arden and her group of Waynesbridge Scouts stared at us. “Keep your voice down, Lizzy. You’re embarrassing me.”

  “So what if you’re embarrassed!” I was practically yelling now. “What about me? I’ve just been labeled a loser! And you don’t even care!”

  Caroline didn’t answer me. She just stood there.

  I knew I had to leave. Fast. Before I totally lost it—in front of Arden and the entire middle school. I didn’t even bother to close my locker. I took off for the nearest exit.

  I opened the door and glanced up. It was a creepy, overcast afternoon. Storm clouds darkened the sky. Fog was rolling in.

  I took one last peek over my shoulder at Caroline. She had joined the other scouts in the hallway. Arden said something to her. The two of them laughed together.

  My face turned red with anger.

  “I’ll show her,” I mumbled as I strode off the school grounds. “I’ll show them all.”
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  As I turned onto Cedar Drive, thunder rumbled directly over my head. I jumped and started to walk faster.

  The closer I got to home, the more upset I became with Caroline. How could she do this to me?

  Overhead, the sky darkened even more. A bolt of lightning zigzagged through it. A second later, thunder boomed.

  Yikes! That seemed really close! I pulled my denim jacket tight around me. The fog grew thicker, heavier.

  I want to be home, I thought. Safe in my own room. Away from Waynesbridge Middle School. And Caroline. And this storm.

  I ducked my head and was about to make a run for it.

  Then someone jumped out at me.

  Someone hiding behind a tree.

  Someone dressed in black. With a black hood on.

  He headed straight for me! My breath caught in my throat.

  Who was he?

  What did he want?

  2

  Make that—what did she want?

  As the figure came toward me, she pushed back the black hood. Long, dark hair spilled out.

  It was a girl. A girl about my own age. She was taller than me, with ivory skin and huge, dark brown eyes.

  “Hello,” she said in a cheery voice.

  “I’m Amy.” “I—I’m Lizzy,” I stammered, catching my breath. “You surprised me, jumping out like that.”

  Amy smiled. “Sorry.”

  I waited for her to say something else, but she just kept staring at me.

  Weird, I thought. I tried to walk around her. But she stepped sideways, blocking my way again.

  “I just moved here from Shadyside,” Amy finally told me. “I go to Waynesbridge Middle School now.”

  “Really?” I studied her face. “I’ve never seen you there.”

  “We’re in different classes,” Amy explained. “Anyway, I heard you talking to your friend in the hall at school.”

  “Ex-friend,” I corrected Amy. I could feel my face turn red again. Everybody in the whole school must have heard my fight with Caroline!

  Who cares? I decided. Now they all know how mean she was!

  “You shouldn’t worry about being in the Waynesbridge Scouts,” Amy continued. “They seem like a big bunch of snobs.”

  I shrugged. “I guess they are.”

  “Why don’t you join my troop instead?” Amy suggested.

  “Your troop?” I asked.

  “It’s in Shadyside—the Camp Fear Girls. Have you heard of us?”

  I shook my head. “No. But I’ve heard of Fear Street. There are lots of scary stories about it. Ghosts in the cemetery, monsters in the lake. Everyone says it’s totally creepy. Some kids at school sort of believe those stories. They never go anywhere near it.”

  “Well, our group is named after Fear Street. That’s why it’s so great. We do scary, fun stuff all the time!” Amy leaned in toward me. She practically whispered now. “I know you’d like it. Why don’t you come to one meeting?”

  “Well . . . ” I bit my lip. I didn’t know anything about this club. Or anyone in it. But it did sound like fun! More fun than the girly Waynesbridge Scouts.

  Should I join?

  “We’re looking for a new member,” Amy added. “You’d be perfect.”

  I shivered. The wind blew cold around me.

  Maybe I should talk to Caroline about this, I thought.

  Then I remembered. Caroline was a Waynesbridge Scout now. If she could join the scouts without me, then I could join the Camp Fear Girls without her!

  “Sure,” I said loudly. “I’ll join. Sign me up!”

  Another bolt of lightning crackled across the sky.

  “Great!” Amy cried. “The Camp Fear Girls will be in touch!”

  Before I could ask how they’d be in touch, Amy disappeared into the fog.

  I wanted to run after her. But the fog seemed to swallow her up. She completely vanished!

  I turned and ran the rest of the way home. I made it inside my house just as it started raining.

  When I raced through the door, Mom shouted her usual greeting from the living room. “Hi! Hang up your coat. And don’t dump your books on the floor. Take them to your room.”

  I muttered back my usual reply. “Okay. Okay.”

  “Oh, and, Lizzy,” Mom added. “You have mail. It’s on the kitchen table.”

  Mail? My relatives send me cards on my birthday, but the rest of the time I don’t get any mail.

  I sorted through the catalogues and bills stacked on the table. Sure enough, at the bottom of the pile sat an envelope. It had my name—Elizabeth Caldwell—written on it.

  Who could it be from?

  I tore it open. Inside was an official invitation to join the Camp Fear Girls.

  “Whoa!” I murmured. “That was fast! How did they do that?”

  Maybe they sent the invitation a while ago, I reasoned. Before Amy invited me in person.

  I studied the invitation. Drawings of bats and spiderwebs decorated the edges of the page. A skeleton posed at the top. “Cool,” I whispered.

  The drawings made me think of scary stories around a campfire. Awesome! This creepy invitation was much better than the stupid pink stationery the Waynesbridge Scouts used.

  I read the rest of the invitation. It said a van would arrive at my house and take me to the Camp Fear Girls’ meeting place. Number 333. On a secret street. The meeting would begin at eight o’clock—tonight.

  “Ooh, a secret meeting place.” I giggled. I could tell, this was definitely my kind of group!

  There was no signature on the bottom of the invitation. I flipped the paper over. Nothing on the other side either.

  I glanced over the letter again. And before my eyes, a new message appeared along the bottom of the page.

  “Wow!” I cried as the words magically formed.

  Oh, no. It was a warning.

  Spelled out in big, red dripping letters.

  “BE THERE . . . OR BEWARE!”

  3

  BE THERE . . . OR BEWARE—it was so creepy! And so cool! I couldn’t wait to ask Amy how the Camp Fear Girls did that. It must be some kind of disappearing ink.

  I ran into the living room to ask my mom if I could go to the meeting.

  It took some serious pleading. Mom didn’t see why I had to pick a club in Shadyside instead of Waynesbridge. And she wanted me to tell her who the other girls in the troop were. I didn’t know. But finally she agreed. Mostly because she didn’t have to drive me there!

  A little before eight I stood at our living room window, peering out at the street. Waiting to go to my first Camp Fear Girls’ meeting.

  “What time did you say the van was supposed to pick you up?” Mom called from the kitchen.

  “Just before eight,” I answered. I checked my watch: 7:55.

  “Let me know when the van gets here. I want to meet the driver,” Mom told me.

  The glare of headlights flashed across our front window. A large black van pulled into our driveway.

  “Mom! They’re here!” I shouted, grabbing my denim jacket.

  Mom walked me out to the van. A gray-haired lady with wire-rimmed glasses sat behind the wheel. When she saw my mother, she smiled.

  “I’m Kate Caldwell,” Mom introduced herself. “And this is my daughter, Lizzy.”

  “Pleased to meet you,” the older lady replied.

  While Mom chatted with the woman, I paced. I couldn’t wait to get to the meeting. And it was getting closer and closer to eight o’clock!

  “All right,” Mom finally said to the driver. “I’ll expect to see Lizzy back here by ten o’clock.”

  “Don’t worry about a thing, Mrs. Caldwell,” the woman assured Mom. “We’ll take good care of your Lizzy.”

  Mom opened the van’s sliding door. I hopped into the back.

  “Have fun!” Mom called.

  “I will,” I told her.

  Mom slid the door shut. She stood in the driveway until the van pulled away.

  After we traveled about h
alf a block, I leaned forward to speak to the driver.

  “So—are you the leader of the Camp Fear Girls?” I asked.

  The driver didn’t say a word. She clutched the wheel of the van and stared at the road.

  Hmmmm, I thought. Maybe I didn’t speak loud enough.

  I cleared my throat and cupped my hands around my mouth. “I was wondering if you were the scout leader,” I shouted.

  Silence.

  Boy, I thought, she must really be deaf.

  I tried a different approach. I tapped her on the shoulder. “Excuse me!” I bellowed. “Are you the scout leader?”

  The driver didn’t even turn to look at me.

  This is weird, I thought, leaning back in my seat. The driver seemed so friendly before. Now she won’t even look at me.

  I studied her face in the rearview mirror. Her expression was hard and cold. Like stone.

  As we drove along River Road, I kept expecting to stop at one of the houses to pick up Amy or another Camp Fear Girl. But we didn’t. I was the only passenger in the black van.

  Soon we left the houses and lights of Waynesbridge behind us. Outside, I could just make out the twisted shapes of the trees lining the river.

  I stared into the darkness. I didn’t know where I was.

  My heart began to pound.

  How much did I know about this driver? She could be taking me anywhere!

  The driver made a sharp right turn. It threw me across the seat. I smashed into the side of the van.

  We bumped across Mill Bridge. Good! I knew Mill Bridge. Once we crossed it, we’d be in Shadyside. Not far from the Camp Fear Girls’ meeting. I could jump out of the car if I had to.

  The van screeched to a halt in the middle of the bridge. The driver turned her head. “This is where you get out,” she told me.

  I peered into the murky night. Not a soul anywhere. Not a light to guide me. “Excuse me? Did you say I had to get out now?” I asked.

  The driver nodded. The van door slid open and a rush of cold, damp air swirled in.

  “Wh-why?” I stammered.

  “You have to walk the rest of the way.” She pointed one gnarled finger into the darkness. “Just follow that street.”

  I stepped out the open door of the van. I gasped when I read the sign above my head: FEAR STREET!