Camp Fear Ghouls Read online

  4

  Fear Street! I couldn’t believe it! They wanted me to walk down there?

  At night?

  Alone?

  I took one step away from the van. It sped off with its tires squealing.

  I glanced nervously down Fear Street. Big old houses lined either side. Trees stretched their strange, twisted limbs across the sky.

  All the stories I heard about Fear Street didn’t prepare me for how scary it really looked. I stood frozen, afraid to move.

  Only one street lamp glowed in the distance. The rest—either burnt out or broken.

  “I don’t like this,” I said to myself in a tiny voice. “I don’t like it one bit.”

  Why would the Camp Fear Girls want me to walk down Fear Street by myself?

  “Maybe it’s some kind of initiation,” I reasoned. “It is a creepy club. Maybe they need to make sure I’m not a chicken.”

  Yeah. That had to be it.

  I forced myself to glance ahead. “I’m not afraid,” I declared, tilting my chin up. “If the Camp Fear Girls want to see brave—I’ll show them brave.”

  My heart thunked against my rib cage. But I marched down Fear Street with big strides. I swung my arms. I even whistled.

  Shadows on the sidewalk seemed to shift and change under my feet. I passed one darkened house after another, looking for the address on the invitation. I muttered, “333,” squinting at the numbers on the decaying houses. I didn’t see it.

  A shutter banged somewhere nearby. I jumped in surprise.

  Just a shutter, I told myself. Calm down.

  I tried to whistle some more, but I couldn’t. My breath was too shaky. So I sang:

  “There was a farmer had a dog,

  And Bingo was his name-oh.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I spied something darting from one yard into another. “A cat. Only a cat,” I said out loud.

  My voice was quivering. I moved more slowly. But I continued singing to the Bingo tune. “Where is 333? Where is 333? Where is 333? I’m getting pretty scared-oh.”

  Suddenly, all around me, the wind picked up with a giant whoosh!

  A tree limb slapped at the sides of a wooden house. Up and down the street, gates banged back and forth. Trash cans clattered across front yards.

  Another gust blew my hair across my face and into my eyes. The wind felt strangely cold. Wintry. Even though it was spring.

  Then I felt the wind pushing at my back. Shoving me. Like invisible hands, guiding me—

  Down Fear Street.

  “Stop!” I cried. But the more I fought against the wind, the more it pushed me.

  I stumbled forward, past house after house. Farther and farther down the awful, dark street.

  I clutched at a rickety fence and held on tight. The wind whipped around my hands. It pried my fingers off the wooden post, one by one.

  Then it continued to shove me down the street.

  I clawed at the hair in front of my face, trying to see what lay ahead.

  I could just make out a brick wall and big iron bars.

  A gate! With letters arched across the top of it.

  I squinted, struggling to read it.

  “No!” I shrieked when I finally read the words. “Not in there! Please don’t make me go in there!”

  5

  “Nooo!.” I yelled at the top of my lungs. Not the Fear Street Cemetery!

  As if it heard me, the wind stopped. Just like that.

  And the night was quiet again.

  I stood there for a moment while my heartbeat slowed down.

  What was that wind? Where did it come from? Where did it go? Could I have imagined the way it shoved me?

  Of course I imagined it.

  Fear Street had given me the creeps. That’s all.

  I pushed my hair out of my eyes and gazed around.

  I stood a few yards to the side of the cemetery gate. One rickety old house stood directly in front of me. It had lots of carved wooden decorations around the porch. From the walkway I could see the huge spiderwebs that hung off them.

  The front steps were splintered and sagging. The screen on the front door hung open on one twisted hinge. The weeds sprouting from the lawn were nearly as tall as me.

  I read the address out loud: “333.”

  I thought the invitation said 333. But that couldn’t be right.

  I thought we would be meeting at one of the members’ houses. But no one could possibly live here. This place was a wreck!

  I dug into the pocket of my jacket and pulled out my invitation. Even in the dim light, it was easy to read the big bold numbers: 333.

  Yes. This was definitely the right address.

  “Weird,” I murmured, making my way up the broken steps.

  Creak!

  A board bent under my foot. It began to splinter and crack. I jumped forward.

  CRRRACK! The board snapped in half.

  Whoa! This is dangerous, I realized. My foot could have gone right through!

  I stepped carefully over to a nearby window and peered inside. I couldn’t see anything. The glass was caked with dust and cobwebs, inside and out.

  Then I moved to the door. I knocked gently.

  Tap. Tap. Tap.

  Strange laughter floated from inside the old house. It sounded warped. Slowed down. Like a tape recorder with its batteries running low.

  I shivered. Who—or what—could laugh like that?

  I froze, listening. I couldn’t hear anyone coming to the door.

  I took a shaky breath. I slowly reached out and rapped on the door again. This time harder. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha.

  I shuddered. That creepy laughter again! And still no one came to the door.

  Something was wrong here. Very wrong.

  I had to be in the wrong place.

  “I’m out of here,” I declared loudly. “Who needs the Camp—”

  My words died in my throat. An icy cold hand gripped my shoulder!

  6

  I spun around. And saw Amy!

  “You scared me!” I gasped.

  “That was the idea,” Amy told me, wiggling her eyebrows.

  She was dressed in a dark blue pleated skirt and white blouse with a red bandanna around her neck. A matching red sash with several rows of badges sewn to it hung across her chest.

  “Why are you standing out here?” Amy asked. “Wouldn’t they let you in?”

  I shook my head. “I wasn’t sure I was in the right place. I could hear people laughing inside, but nobody answered when I knocked.”

  Amy slapped her forehead with the palm of her hand. “Oh, that’s right. You don’t know the secret knock.”

  She crossed to the door and tapped three times, slowly. Then two times fast, and then three more times slowly.

  The front door creaked open.

  “See?” Amy shrugged. “Nothing to it.”

  I followed Amy through the darkened entry. I turned to see who opened the door.

  There was no one there! Did the door open all by itself?

  No. That was dumb. The door had probably been unlatched all this time. When Amy knocked, it swung open. That’s all.

  Amy led me into a room to the right of the front door. It was brightly lit—and filled with all sorts of cool stuff. A big-screen TV took up one wall. Next to it I saw a VCR, a five-CD player, a Sega, and a Super Nintendo game system and two speaker towers. Big leather couches circled a snack table that was piled high with chips, soda, and cookies.

  “Awesome!” I whispered to myself. The inside of this house was nothing like the outside.

  Four girls in uniforms like Amy’s knelt by the snack table, eating. Three others stood by the entertainment system. Three more sat on the couch. One stood by the windows.

  I did a quick count in my head. Eleven girls. And Amy made twelve. Twelve new friends.

  “Attention, everybody,” Amy called. “This is Lizzy. She’s our new recruit.”

  All eleven girls turned their heads at the exact
same moment. “Hi, Lizzy,” they called.

  Amy walked me around the room, introducing me. There was a red-haired girl named Trudy, and a tall, thin girl named Violet. Priscilla had dark frizzy hair. Lorraine’s was short and blond.

  Pearl, a pretty girl with two long brown braids, stood by the window. All the girls wore red sashes across their uniforms, like Amy. All except Pearl. Hers was purple. Maybe that means she’s some kind of troop leader, I guessed.

  “Pearl, this is Lizzy,” Amy said, introducing me. “She’s from Waynesbridge.”

  Pearl smiled and stuck out her hand. “Cool. Welcome to my house, Lizzy. And welcome to the troop.”

  “Thanks,” I replied, clasping her hand.

  “Um, where’s your scout leader?” I asked, gazing around the room and back toward the front door.

  “Oh, that would be Pearl’s mother. She had to run some errands,” Amy explained. “But she left us lots of snacks. Have some, Lizzy.”

  “Thanks,” I said, eyeing the tortilla chips.

  While I munched on some chips, Amy, Trudy, and Pearl took thick green candles from a cupboard. They passed them out to the rest of the Camp Fear Girls, who lit them.

  Then Trudy flicked out the ceiling light. Pearl moved to the front of our group.

  “Didn’t I promise you some scary fun?” Amy whispered, sitting next to me. “It’s story time!”

  I took a quick peek around the room. The green candles must have come from a special horror shop or something. Their light made everyone look spooky.

  Cool, I thought. This was going to be great! Scary stories in a house on Fear Street!

  I turned my attention back to Pearl, who was starting her story.

  “Since Lizzy is new here, I will tell the story of the first troop of Camp Fear Girls.” Pearl leaned forward and spoke in an eerie voice. “This story begins almost one hundred years ago. Thirteen girls—a troop of Shadyside scouts called the Camp Fear Girls—decided to go for a camp-out in the Fear Street Woods. Those thirteen girls left home and were never seen again.

  “Their families searched and searched for these thirteen girls, but they were never found.”

  Pearl raised her candle to just below her chin.

  “There are rumors—wild, horrible rumors,” she continued, “that those thirteen scouts were turned into hideous monsters. By who—or what—no one knows.”

  As Pearl spoke, the candle cast strange shadows on the wall.

  One shadow, behind Pearl, seemed larger than the others. I fixed my eyes on it. The shadow seemed to have a head. And sharp teeth. And claws!

  A monster!

  I blinked. The shadow was just a black blob again.

  Wow! I was totally freaking myself out. Pearl’s story was really creepy!

  Pearl lowered her voice to a hoarse whisper. “Those monsters still roam Shadyside today, looking for new people to add to their troop.

  “And once you join, you can never leave. You become one of the undead. Your body becomes like theirs. Your skin rots and falls off your bones. Your eyes sink back into your head. And you are forced to walk the earth that way—forever!”

  My eyes went wide with horror.

  I felt Amy tap me on the shoulder. “Pretty scary, huh, Lizzy?” she whispered in my ear.

  I turned around to agree with her—and screamed!

  Amy’s skin was grayish-green.

  One eye dangled—out of its socket.

  A huge open cut ran down the side of her face. Green slime oozed from it.

  Amy was a monster!

  7

  I screamed until my throat burned with pain.

  I jumped up. I backed away from the hideous thing in front of me.

  Amy, the monster, staggered to her feet. Her mouth was fixed in an evil leer. She stepped toward me. Slobber dripped from her mouth.

  “No! Get away from me!” I screamed.

  I ran to the door. But as I reached it, it slammed shut!

  I lunged for the doorknob. Pulled at it with all my might.

  It wouldn’t budge!

  I whirled around. Amy moved closer and closer. I pressed my back against the door.

  She bent her horrible face toward mine. I raised my arms to protect myself.

  “Get away!” I pleaded. “Get away!”

  Slowly, Amy lifted her right hand. Reaching for me.

  “Nooo!” I wailed.

  Then she brushed her hand over her chin—her face began to peel off!

  I screamed and shut my eyes. I couldn’t bear to watch!

  “Gotcha!” Amy shouted.

  I opened one eye.

  Amy was back to normal. A hideous rubber mask hung limply in her hand.

  My other eye flew open. I couldn’t believe it! The whole thing was a joke!

  Amy laughed so hard, tears rolled down her cheeks. The other girls were laughing too.

  Amy held up the rubber monster mask for everyone to see. Then she swatted my shoulder with it. She gasped out big, hiccupy laughs.

  My cheeks grew hot. My whole face felt on fire.

  I couldn’t believe I fell for their joke.

  Pearl was laughing the hardest. She set down her candle and bent over, clutching her stomach.

  “That was part of your initiation,” she managed to choke out. “And you passed!”

  Huh? I blinked. I turned to look at Amy. “I passed?”

  Amy was still giggling so hard, she couldn’t talk. She nodded her head.

  If screaming your head off meant you passed, what did you have to do to fail?

  I glanced around the room. All of the other girls gave me big welcoming smiles.

  “Great. I’m so glad I passed,” I muttered.

  Pearl held up one finger. “One down,” she announced.

  “What do you mean, ‘one down’?” I asked.

  “You passed the first test,” Trudy explained. “But there’s another one.”

  “To become a full-fledged member of our troop, you’ll have to go on the overnight camp-out,” Pearl said.

  I love camp-outs. But would they pull more jokes like this one?

  “Okay,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “I guess you can count me in.”

  “Good!” Amy patted me on the back.

  Violet showed me a notebook that had the words CAMP FEAR GIRLS GUIDEBOOK, embossed in gold letters on the navy blue cover.

  She sat cross-legged next to Pearl and declared, “On our camp-out, Lizzy, you’ll earn your first three badges.”

  I glanced across the room at Pearl’s sash. She had lots of badges sewn on it. In really cool colors.

  I started getting excited. I’d love to earn some of those badges, I thought, and show them off to Caroline.

  “Can I really earn all three badges in one night?” I asked.

  Amy waved one hand. “Don’t worry. It’s easy.”

  She pointed to the badges on her own sash. One had an artist’s brush and palette embroidered on it. “This is the arts and crafts badge,” she explained.

  Trudy pointed to the badge beside it. It was also embroidered, but with a picture of a gray rock. “That’s the rock-collecting badge.”

  Another badge showed a girl swimming freestyle in a lake. “And that’s the swimming badge,” Violet concluded. “Piece of cake.”

  I had to admit, they all seemed easy enough to earn.

  I smiled with relief.

  Until I caught a glimpse of Amy’s other badges!

  8

  “A coffin!” I pointed at the badge under Amy’s swimming patch. “That badge has a picture of a coffin on it! And that one looks like a knife.” I poked at the next badge with my finger.

  A slow smile crept across Amy’s lips. She wiggled her eyebrows. “Awesome, isn’t it?”

  The next badge was a rope. Was it for knot-tying? But then, why was the rope shaped like a hangman’s noose?

  “What’s that for?” I asked.

  “Fun!” Pearl gestured to the badges on her purple sash. �
��They’re all for fun.”

  “It’s much more fun to earn these than stupid old cooking badges,” Amy explained. “Or a wimpy gardening badge like the Waynesbridge Scouts earn.”

  “Aren’t our badges totally scary?” Violet giggled. “They’re perfect for our club.”

  “Look, Lizzy. We thought you were someone who liked a good scare. You’re not afraid of some silly badges, are you?” Trudy asked, sticking her face in front of mine.

  “Of course not,” I shot back.

  “Are you sure?” Pearl demanded. “Because we don’t want any babies in this troop.” She narrowed her eyes at me suspiciously. “Hey, how old are you anyway?”

  That made me mad. Maybe I was the shortest kid in the seventh grade. So what? What difference did that make?

  “I’m old enough to go on a camp-out,” I snapped. “And I’m old enough to earn those badges.”

  A grin spread across Pearl’s face. “All right. You’re in,” she declared. She stuck her hand into the center of the circle. The others piled their hands on top of hers. “Welcome to the Camp Fear Girls,” Pearl sang out.

  “Welcome!” the girls repeated.

  I placed my hand on top of the stack.

  A freezing breeze drifted through the room.

  Brrr! What a drafty old house, I thought.

  “Pearl!” Trudy called when we broke our handhold. “Did you forget that tonight is Prank Night?”

  Several of the girls squealed with delight.

  “Prank Night is a troop favorite,” Amy whispered to me.

  “How could I forget?” Pearl grinned. “I live for Prank Night.”

  “Yeah!” “Me too!” the others agreed.

  Pearl raised one hand and the group fell silent. Then she asked in a spooky voice, “Who should we play our prank on tonight?”

  Several girls raised their hands to make suggestions, but Amy cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Since Lizzy is going to be our newest member, let’s let her choose.”

  “Brilliant idea.” Pearl turned to me. “Well? Who would you really like to get?”

  I stared into Pearl’s eyes. They reflected the yellow flicker of the candlelight. And suddenly a strange feeling crept through me. A wild feeling I couldn’t explain.