Series 2000- Return to Horroland, Page 2

  Clay didn’t say a word.

  “It would be exciting to be on TV,” I said.

  “Yeah. That would be totally cool,” Luke agreed.

  “You won’t regret this,” Derek said, pulling his overcoat around him as he headed to the front door.

  We said good-bye. Clay promised to get a permission letter from his parents. Mom closed the door after them.

  I stepped up to the front window and watched the Stranges hurry down the driveway to their limo.

  I can’t believe this is happening, I told myself. I can’t believe we’re going back to HorrorLand. What a shock.

  And then, peering out the window, I got another shock.

  As Derek Strange turned to open the limo door, I saw a fat green tail poke out from under his coat.

  When Derek and Margo came to pick us up on Friday, I didn’t waste any time. As soon as Luke, Clay, and I climbed into their van, I turned to Derek. “Last week, I watched from the window when you left,” I told him. “And when you turned around, I saw a green tail.”

  He laughed.

  Margo’s eyes went wide. Then she laughed too.

  “It was a joke,” Derek explained. “I forgot it was still there.”

  “The tail was sewn onto the back of his coat,” Margo said. “Derek was supposed to wear white tie and tails for a very fancy party we were filming.”

  “So I thought it would be funny to wear a real tail,” Derek continued. “We flew out to see you so quickly, I didn’t have time to remove it.”

  Margo’s expression turned serious. “I hope it didn’t upset you. It was just a joke.”

  “Just because our name is Strange doesn’t mean we really are strange!” Derek exclaimed. He laughed again.

  As we rode to the airport, I began to feel a lot better. Derek and Margo were so nice. I couldn’t believe I was riding in a car with real TV stars!

  I could tell that Luke was excited too. He didn’t get into any shoving matches with Clay or bounce up and down in the seat or sing off-key at the top of his lungs. He was acting fairly human—for him. I guessed he was trying to impress the Stranges.

  Clay barely said a word. He stared out the car window, his round face tight with worry.

  Clay was terrified the first time, I remembered. Why did he agree to return? He probably wants to be on TV, I figured. Just like Luke and me.

  Freezing rain spattered the windshield. Derek clicked the wipers to high speed.

  “At least you guys will be escaping winter for a while,” Margo said. The limo pulled up to the airport terminal.

  An hour later, we were seated in first class, on our way to HorrorLand. Derek and Margo explained their plan to us. “We’re going to dress up like typical tourists,” Derek said. “You know. T-shirts and baggy shorts. Camcorder strapped around my neck. We’re going to be a family on vacation, enjoying the park.”

  “Except we’ll be taping the frightening things they do to people at HorrorLand,” Margo added. She sighed, sweeping a strand of red hair off her forehead. “We haven’t been able to find out who owns the park. Or who runs it. Or why they try to terrify kids.”

  “But we will,” Derek promised. “With your help, we’ll find out the truth about HorrorLand.” He grinned. “And … we’ll get a great TV show out of it.”

  “And we’ll be TV stars when we come back!” Luke declared, pumping a fist in the air.

  Derek’s face twisted in surprise. “Come back?” he asked. “When you come back?” He stared hard at Luke. “Don’t you think it might make a more dramatic show if you three don’t survive?”

  All three of us stared at Derek.

  “Don’t survive?” I gasped.

  “But you promised our parents!” Clay whined.

  Derek burst out laughing.

  “You’re not funny,” Margo groaned. “Stop making jokes, Derek. You have a sick sense of humor. You really do.”

  The huge billboard rose up like a monster in front of our rented minivan. I gasped as the two gigantic yellow eyes stared down at me.

  Derek slowed the van, and we squinted through the Saturday morning sunlight at the billboard. The monster on the billboard was a painting of a HorrorLand Horror. It appeared to reach out of the sign.

  “The park workers are called Horrors, right?” Margo asked.

  “Yes. And they’re real monsters!” Luke cried.

  “Are you sure?” Derek asked. “Aren’t they just people wearing costumes?”

  “Trust me,” Luke said firmly. “Real monsters.”

  Margo scribbled something on a little pad. “Well, that’s one of the first things we’ll check out. Are the park workers human or monster?”

  I shivered, thinking about the Horrors. They had green skin, bulging yellow eyes, and dark horns curling over their heads. They had pointed green tails at the back of their costumes. And they all spoke in dry, raspy voices and tried to be scary.

  The five of us stared out the van window at the painted Horror above the billboard. “This … this brings back a lot of bad memories,” Clay whispered.

  Clay was right. Just seeing that evil, grinning monster face made me want to turn around and forget the whole thing.

  “It’s so cool!” Luke gushed. He read the billboard words out loud: “Welcome to HorrorLand, where nightmares come to life!”

  “The painting is so real,” Clay murmured, pressing himself as far back in the seat as he could.

  Derek drove a little further along the narrow country road. All I could see were flat, empty farm fields on all sides. But soon, the shadow of another big billboard washed over us.

  THE HORRORLAND HORRORS WELCOME YOU TO HORRORLAND.

  And then a smaller sign beside it:

  UNDER NEW MISMANAGEMENT.

  “We’re getting close,” Derek called back to us. “Are you kids getting excited?”

  “Yes!” Luke cried. He was the only one to answer.

  “Check the camcorder,” Derek instructed Margo. “Make sure we have plenty of tape cassettes.”

  “I checked it three times,” Margo grumbled. But she obediently opened the camcorder case and counted the cassettes.

  “We’re here! Here’s the parking lot,” Derek declared. He turned sharply. We pulled past a black-and-yellow traffic sign: CAUTION— KIDS SCREAMING.

  “It’s not very crowded,” Margo said. “Only twenty or thirty cars.”

  Derek pulled into a parking space at the end of the first row. I took a deep breath and followed the boys out of the van.

  A tall black metal fence stretched the width of the park. Behind the fence, I could see dark buildings, tall towers, food carts, people standing in line. The mournful sound of organ music floated through the fence.

  I saw an open gate next to a small ticket booth. A sign above the gate read:

  ENTRANCE ONLY. NO ONE EVER EXITS.

  “Well?” Derek grinned at us. “Do we look like tourists? Do we look like a family on vacation?”

  I turned and stared at them. They both were disguised as normal tourists.

  Derek had a stubble of black beard on his face. He wore a loose green T-shirt, pulled down over baggy red-and-blue plaid shorts.

  On his feet, Derek had brown leather sandals over black kneesocks. And he had turned an aqua-and-white Florida Marlins cap sideways on his head.

  He looked like a total geek.

  Margo’s outfit was just as bad. A shiny gold tank top and black spandex bike shorts. Bright red sneakers with orange laces. The sneakers matched the giant red plastic, heart-shaped sunglasses that covered her eyes and half her face.

  She had a fake tattoo of a Cupid surrounded by red and blue flowers on one arm just below the shoulder.

  “I like this look,” she declared, laughing. “I might just keep it!”

  Clay studied them. “But what if they recognize you?” he asked.

  We all burst out laughing. There was no way anyone would ever guess these were two of the most famous TV stars in the country!
>
  Derek raised the camcorder in one hand. “Let’s get started,” he said, turning serious. “We’ve got a program to do.”

  He led the way to the ticket booth. My heart started to pound as we walked closer to the park. My hands were suddenly ice-cold.

  The chilling organ music swirled around us. In the far distance, I could hear shrill screams.

  As we stepped up to the ticket booth, a green-skinned Horror leaned out and smiled at us. “Welcome to HorrorLand,” she rasped.

  “This looks like fun!” Derek exclaimed. “Right, kids?”

  “Right!” the three of us echoed brightly.

  Margo tugged Derek’s sleeve. “Honey, are you sure this park is safe?” she asked.

  “Yes, it’s perfectly safe,” the Horror replied. “Safe for us Horrors!” She uttered a hoarse laugh. As she leaned over, her curled horns tapped the bars of the ticket booth.

  We all laughed too. But I didn’t really feel like laughing.

  This park isn’t safe, I told myself. That’s why we’re here.

  Derek paid for five tickets, and we walked through the gate.

  “I can’t believe we’re back here!” Luke exclaimed. He threw his hands up excitedly and jumped up and down.

  He’s actually happy to be back, I thought. What a weirdo!

  I gazed around. Paths led in all directions. Low, dark buildings lined the paths. Two Horrors walked by, humming a song together.

  My eyes stopped at a large map of the park. A sign above it read: IF YOU NEED THIS MAP, YOU’RE ALREADY LOST.

  “Let’s check out the map,” I said. I took a few steps toward it—then stopped as a tall, fierce-looking Horror moved quickly to block our path.

  “Ha ha. Great costume!” Derek said, grinning at the big creature.

  The Horror didn’t grin back. He narrowed his eyes at Derek’s camcorder. “What’s that?” he growled.

  Derek raised the camcorder. “Just a video camera,” Derek replied. “See? We want to remember everything about this vacation—right, kids?”

  “Right!” the three of us echoed.

  The Horror uttered another angry growl. “Sorry,” he rasped. “No cameras.”

  He grabbed the camcorder from Derek’s hand, dropped it to the pavement—and smashed it under his big green foot.

  “Have a scary day,” the Horror rasped. He turned and stomped away.

  I swallowed hard. My mouth suddenly felt very dry, and my heart pounded.

  We all stared down at the flattened camcorder.

  “Now what?” I muttered.

  “We … we came all this way for nothing!” Clay whined.

  Derek waited until the Horror turned a corner and disappeared behind a dark building. “No problem,” he said finally.

  He reached into a pocket of his baggy plaid shorts and pulled out a tiny silvery camera. “I expected that,” Derek said. “That’s why I brought the Mini-Super-Eight.”

  I studied the camera. It fit in the palm of Derek’s hand.

  “I have one too,” Margo said, pulling a tiny camcorder from her bag. “Let’s get to work.”

  “Let’s try to cover the park,” Derek instructed. “Do as much as we can, and get it on tape. Pick a path, kids, and we’ll—”

  “I’m kind of hungry,” Luke interrupted. “I was too excited to eat breakfast.”

  “There’s a food stand over there,” I said, pointing. A Horror in a purple apron leaned against a small cart.

  We hurried over to it. The Horror stood up straight and brushed off her apron as we approached. A sign on top of the cart read: FINGERS.

  “Great! You’ve got chicken fingers?” Luke asked her.

  She shook her head. “No. Just fingers.”

  I lowered my eyes to the cart. Steam rose up. I saw piles of fingers toasting inside. Human fingers. “Ohhh, gross,” I murmured, covering my mouth with a hand.

  “They’re pretty good with a lot of ketchup,” the Horror rasped.

  “Uhh … no, thanks,” Luke choked out.

  “I have toes too,” the Horror said. “But they’re not hot yet.”

  We hurried away. “I got it on tape,” Derek said, patting his tiny camcorder. The sun beamed down. He turned his Marlins cap around to protect his eyes.

  “Those weren’t real fingers,” Clay said softly. “Were they?”

  “It has to be a joke,” I told him. The poor guy looked terrified already. And we had only just arrived.

  We followed a curving path through rows of tall hedges. I could hear kids’ voices on the other side of the hedges.

  Luke ran ahead of everyone.

  “The park has changed a lot,” I commented. “What happened to all the No Pinching signs? They used to be everywhere. Remember? That’s how we defeated the Horrors. By pinching them. But now the signs are gone.”

  “I guess that means it’s okay to pinch!” Luke exclaimed. He grabbed Clay and gave his arm a hard pinch. “The Mad Pincher strikes again!”

  “Don’t start that again, Luke!” I begged.

  But the boys ignored me. Clay pinched Luke back. So Luke pinched Clay’s cheek until he screamed.

  “Check out this pyramid,” Margo said. “It looks so old and real.”

  We stood in the shadow of a tall, pyramid-shaped building, built of pale orange stone. A stern-faced statue of an Egyptian soldier guarded the narrow entrance.

  “Mummy Walk!” Luke read the carved words over the entrance.

  We followed him up to the open doorway. A stale odor floated out on a blast of cold, damp air.

  “Should we try it?” Derek asked.

  “It … it looks kind of dark in there,” Clay murmured, hanging back behind the rest of us.

  “It looks totally cool!” Luke declared.

  “Let’s do it,” Margo said, pulling out her camcorder. “Now, remember, guys—stick close together. Derek and I will be taping. We won’t be able to see you if you wander off.”

  “And act natural,” Derek added. “Forget about the camera, okay? Just pretend that Margo and I aren’t here.”

  Luke led the way.

  I read the sign one more time: MUMMY WALK. Then I took a deep breath and stepped through the narrow doorway, into the darkness.

  We were making our first big mistake.

  Our footsteps on the stone floor echoed off the walls. “Hellllooooo!” Luke called. And his voice boomed all around us.

  “Is anybody in here?” I called. My voice came out high and tiny, but it echoed around the vast chamber.

  I waited for my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Blinking, I saw that the high walls were covered with ancient-looking drawings. Cats and other animal faces. Flat-looking people all turned sideways.

  We followed the walkway into a narrow hallway. It opened into another dark chamber. The air grew colder. A stale odor followed us.

  “This is creepy,” Clay whispered.

  “Where are the mummies?” Luke demanded. “There are supposed to be mummies—right?”

  Our sneakers squeaked over the stone floor as we headed toward a dim orange light across the chamber.

  A loud HISSSS made me stop. I grabbed Luke’s arm. “What was that?”

  “Ohhhh.” A low moan escaped Clay’s throat. The orange light reflected in his glasses. Behind it, I could see his eyes bulge in fright.

  Another HISSSS.

  I squinted into the light, a dim triangle of orange from the ceiling spreading over the floor.

  “Whoa.” The floor under the light appeared to be moving. Wriggling.

  No.

  Not the floor.

  As I squinted, the snakes came into focus.

  At first, I saw three heads hissing, snapping, curling over each other. Oh, wow! It’s a three-headed snake, I thought.

  A huge, three-headed snake.

  I froze, still gripping my brother’s arm.

  And realized I was staring at three snakes. Rolling over each other, curling and uncurling, hissing loudly, their slender tongue
s darting from their open mouths.

  “This-they’re not real,” Clay stammered, backing up.

  Two more snake heads raised up from the floor. Shiny black eyes gleamed at us across the dark room.

  They snapped at each other, hissing loudly.

  Two more snakes uncurled from the pile.

  A snake pit, I realized. I’d only read about them in books. And now I was staring at dozens of snakes—so long and thick—all tangled around each other. Pulling and twisting. Snapping their jaws. And hissing … hissing

  …

  I covered my ears against the frightening, shrill sound.

  “Let’s get out of here!” I cried.

  “No. This is cool!” Luke declared.

  He broke free of my grip and moved quickly toward the hissing, snapping snakes.

  “Luke—stop!” I shrieked.

  He spun around and laughed at me. “Lizzy —I dare you to come closer!”

  “No! No way!” I protested.

  He backed up, moving closer to the writhing snakes. “Dare you, Lizzy! Come on! Dare you to come this close!”

  “Luke!”

  It happened too fast. Too fast to move. Too fast to warn him. Too fast to scream.

  I froze—froze in breathless horror—as a snake shot out of the pile—thrust its head forward —and snapped its jaws deep into my brother’s leg.

  “Nooooooo!” The scream finally burst from my throat.

  The snake slithered up Luke’s back. Its head bobbed over Luke’s shoulder.

  Bobbed … The eyes glowing …

  It missed! I realized.

  It snapped—and missed his leg!

  Luke didn’t react for the longest time. He stood there, staring at me, a sick grin frozen on his face.

  His eyes turned toward the snake. He stared at the triangular head, bobbing over his shoulder.

  And then Luke lurched forward, scrambling, his arms thrashing, his eyes wild. His shrill scream echoed off the low ceiling.

  “They’re real!” he shrieked. “I—I didn’t know. I didn’t think! This-they’re real!”

  “Are you okay?” I cried. I checked his leg to make sure the snake hadn’t bitten him after all.

  His jeans weren’t punctured. But poor Luke. His whole body was trembling.