A Shocker on Shock Street Page 6

  Something inside me snapped. I totally lost it. “Stop it!” I screamed. “Just stop it! Marty is right! We don’t want to be scared now. So stop the werewolf act — and help us!”

  The werewolves growled again. Wolf Girl snapped her jaws. A long pink tongue slid out, and she licked her jagged teeth hungrily.

  “That’s enough!” I shrieked. “Stop the act! Stop it! Stop it!”

  I was so angry, so furious — I reached up with both hands. I grabbed the fur on the sides of Wolf Girl’s mask.

  And I tugged the mask with all my strength.

  Tugged. Tugged with both hands as hard as I could.

  And felt real fur. And warm skin.

  It wasn’t a mask.

  “Ohh.” I let out a gasp, and jerked my hands away.

  The werewolf’s red eyes glowed. Her black lips parted. Once again, her tongue flicked hungrily over her yellow, pointed teeth.

  My whole body trembled as I backed up against the brick wall. “M-Marty —” I stammered. “It’s not an act.”

  “Huh?” Marty stood stiffly in front of Wolf Boy, his dark eyes wide in his mud-caked face.

  “They’re not actors,” I whispered. “Something is wrong here. Something is terribly wrong.”

  Marty’s mouth dropped open. He took a step back.

  Both werewolves uttered low growls. They lowered their heads as if preparing to attack.

  “Do you believe me?” I cried. “Do you finally believe me?”

  Marty nodded. He didn’t say a word. I think he was too terrified to talk.

  Saliva poured from the werewolves’ mouths. Their eyes glowed like fire in the darkness. Their furry chests began to heave in and out. Their breaths came loud and hoarse.

  I jumped back against the wall as both werewolves raised their heads and let out long, frightening howls.

  What were they going to do to us?

  I grabbed Marty and tugged him to the wall. “Up!” I cried. “Get up! Maybe they can’t reach us up there!”

  Marty leaped high, stretching up his arms. His hands slapped the top of the wall, then slid back down. He tried again. He bent his knees. Jumped. Grabbed for the top of the wall. Slipped back down.

  “I can’t!” he wailed. “It’s too high.”

  “We’ve got to!” I shrieked.

  I turned back and saw the two werewolves lean back on their hind legs and then spring up. They were snarling and growling now, thick gobs of saliva running over their snapping teeth.

  “Up!” I cried.

  As Marty leaped for the wall again, I reached down and grabbed his muddy foot. “Up!” I gave him a hard boost.

  His hands thrashed the air. Caught the top of the brick wall. Held on.

  His bare feet kicked the air. But he held on and tugged himself up.

  On his knees on top of the wall, he turned and grabbed my hands. He pulled and I jumped. I struggled to scramble up beside him.

  But I couldn’t get my knees up. Couldn’t get them onto the wall.

  My bare feet thrashed wildly. My knees scraped against the wall as Marty tugged.

  “I can’t do it! I can’t!” I gasped.

  The werewolves howled again.

  “Keep trying!” Marty choked out. He tugged my arms. Tugged with all his strength.

  I was still struggling as the two werewolves leaped.

  I heard the snap of jaws.

  I felt hot breath on the bottom of my foot.

  The two werewolves thudded against the wall.

  With a desperate cry, I sprang to the top. Gasping for air, I pressed myself flat against the bricks.

  I raised my head in time to see the two snarling werewolves leap again. Jaws snapped in front of my face. Red eyes gleamed hungrily at me.

  “No!” With a cry, I scrambled to my feet.

  The werewolves raised their heads in angry howls and prepared to attack again.

  Marty and I stood pressed close together, staring down at them.

  They jumped.

  Their claws scraped against the bricks. The shrill screech sent chills down my back. Their teeth snapped.

  They dropped down. Prepared another leap, snarling excitedly.

  “We can’t stay up here forever!” Marty cried. “What do we do?”

  I squinted into the darkness. Was that the studio road on the other side of the wall?

  Too dark to tell.

  The werewolves leaped again. Jagged teeth scraped against my ankle.

  I jumped back. Nearly toppled off the wall.

  Marty and I bumped into each other, our eyes on the two growling creatures preparing another leap.

  The gun! The plastic stun gun!

  Mine had fallen from my hand. It was probably buried in that mud hole. But my eyes fell on Marty’s gun. Its handle poked out from his jeans pocket.

  Without saying a word, I grabbed the handle and tugged the plastic pistol from Marty’s jeans.

  “Hey!” he cried. “Erin — what are you doing?”

  “They gave us the guns for a reason,” I explained, shouting over the frightening howls of the two werewolves. “Maybe this will stop them.”

  “It — it’s only a toy!” Marty stammered.

  I didn’t care. It was worth a try.

  Maybe it would frighten them. Maybe it would hurt them. Maybe it would chase them away.

  I raised the plastic gun. Aimed it as the two werewolves made another leap of attack.

  “One — two — three — FIRE!”

  I squeezed the trigger. Again. Again.

  Again!

  The gun made a loud buzzing sound. It shot out a beam of yellow light.

  Yes! I thought. Yes! I prayed.

  The light will stop them.

  It’s a stun gun — right? The buzzing sound and the bright light will stun them. It will freeze them in place so Marty and I can make our escape.

  I squeezed the trigger hard. Again. Again.

  It didn’t stop the werewolves. It didn’t even seem to surprise them.

  They leaped higher. I felt sharp claws scrape my leg. I cried out in pain.

  And the plastic gun flew out of my hand.

  It clattered against the top of the wall, then slid to the ground.

  Just a toy. Marty was right. It wasn’t a real weapon. It was just a stupid toy.

  “Look out!” Marty opened his mouth in a shrill shriek as the snarling creatures made another high leap at the wall.

  Claws scraped the brick — and held on. Red eyes glared up at me. Hot wolf breath tingled my skin.

  “Ohhh.” My arms flew up as I lost my balance. I struggled to stay up. But my knees bent. My feet slipped.

  I grabbed for Marty. Missed.

  And toppled off. Landed hard on my back on the other side of the wall.

  Gazing up in horror, I saw Marty leap down beside me.

  The two werewolves were on the top of the wall now. They glared down at us, red eyes glowing, tongues out, breathing hard.

  Preparing to pounce.

  Marty dragged me to my feet. “Run!” he cried hoarsely, his eyes wide with panic.

  The werewolves growled above us.

  The ground tilted. I still felt dizzy, a little dazed from my fall. “We — we can’t outrun them!” I moaned.

  I heard a rumbling sound. A clatter.

  Marty and I both turned. And saw two yellow eyes, glowing against the dark sky.

  Yellow eyes of a creature roaring toward us.

  No. Not a creature.

  As it drew nearer, I could make out its long, sleek shape.

  The tram!

  The tram bouncing over the road behind yellow headlights. Coming closer. Closer.

  Yes!

  I turned to Marty. Did he see it, too? He did.

  Without saying a word, we both began running to the road. The tram was rolling fast. Somehow we had to climb on it. We had to!

  Behind us, I heard the werewolves howl. I heard a hard thump, then another as they dropped off the wa
ll.

  The twin yellow headlights of the tram swept over us.

  The werewolves snarled and howled angrily as they chased after us.

  A few feet ahead of me, Marty was hurtling forward, his head down, his legs pumping furiously.

  The tram bumped closer. Closer.

  The howling werewolves were inches behind us. I could almost feel their hot breath on the back of my neck.

  A few more seconds. A few more seconds — and Marty and I would make our jump.

  I watched the tram speed around a curve, the yellow headlights washing over the dark road. I kept my eyes on the front car. Took a deep breath. Prepared to jump.

  And then Marty fell.

  I saw his hands shoot out. Saw his mouth open wide in surprise. In horror.

  He stumbled over his own bare feet and dropped to the ground, landing hard on his stomach.

  I couldn’t stop in time.

  I ran right into him. Stumbled over him.

  Fell heavily on top of him.

  And watched the tram speed past us.

  “Owoooooooo!”

  The two werewolves uttered long howls of triumph.

  My heart pounding, I scrambled to my feet. “Get up!” I frantically pulled Marty up by both arms.

  We took off after the tram, our bare feet pounding the hard road. The last car bounced a few feet ahead of us.

  I reached it first. Shot out my right hand. Grabbed the back of the car.

  With a desperate leap, I hoisted myself up. Up. And into the last seat.

  Struggling to catch my breath, I turned back to find Marty running behind the tram. His hands reached for the back of the tramcar. “I — I can’t make it!” he gasped.

  “Run! You’ve got to!” I screamed.

  Behind him, I could see the werewolves scampering close behind.

  Marty put on a burst of speed. He grabbed the back of the car with both hands. It dragged him for several feet — until he swung himself around and dropped into the seat beside me.

  Yes! I thought happily. We made it! We got away from those howling werewolves.

  Or did we?

  Would they jump into the tram after us?

  I spun around, my whole body trembling. And I watched the werewolves fade into the distance. They ran for a while, then gave up. They both stood in the road, hunched over in defeat, watching us escape.

  Escape.

  What a wonderful word.

  Marty and I grinned at each other. I slapped him a high five.

  We were both breathing hard, covered in mud. My legs ached from running. My bare feet throbbed. My heart still thudded from the frightening chase.

  But we had escaped. And now we were safe in the tram, on our way back to the starting platform. Back to my dad.

  “We’ve got to tell your dad that this place is messed up,” Marty said breathlessly.

  “Something is horribly wrong here,” I agreed.

  “Those werewolves — they weren’t kidding around,” Marty continued. “They — they were real, Erin. They weren’t actors.”

  I nodded. I felt so glad that Marty finally agreed with me. And he wasn’t pretending to be brave anymore. He wasn’t pretending that it was all robots and special effects.

  We both knew that we had faced real dangers. Real monsters.

  Something was terribly wrong at Shocker Studios. Dad had told us he wanted a full report. Well, he was going to get one!

  I settled back in the seat, trying to calm down.

  But I shot straight up again when I realized we weren’t alone. “Marty — look!” I pointed to the front of the tram. “We aren’t the only passengers.”

  In fact, every tramcar appeared to be filled with people.

  “What’s going on?” Marty murmured. “Your dad said we were the only ones on the tour. And now the tram is — OH!”

  Marty never finished his sentence. His mouth fell open in a gasp. His eyes bulged open wide.

  I gasped, too.

  The other passengers on the tram all turned around at the same time. And I saw their grinning jaws, their dark, empty eye sockets, the gray bones of their skulls.

  Skeletons.

  The other passengers were all grinning skeletons.

  Their jaws opened in dry laughter. Cruel laughter that sounded like the wind screeching through bare trees. Bones rattled and clattered as they raised their yellowed, skeletal hands to point at us.

  Their skulls bobbed and bounced as the tram carried us, faster, faster, through the darkness.

  Marty and I slumped low in the seat, trembling, staring at the grinning skulls, the pointing fingers.

  Who were they?

  How did they get on this tram?

  Where were they taking us?

  The skeletons laughed their wheezing laugh. Their bones clanked and rattled. Their yellowed skulls bounced loosely on their clattering shoulder bones.

  The tram picked up speed. We were flying through the darkness.

  I forced myself to turn away from the grinning skulls and peered out. Beyond the trees, I could see the low buildings of the movie studio. As I stared, they grew smaller, faded into the blackness of the night.

  “Marty — we’re not going back to the main platform,” I whispered. “We’re heading the wrong way. We’re going away from all the buildings.”

  He swallowed hard. I could see the panic in his eyes. “What can we do?” he choked out.

  “We’ve got to get off!” I replied. “We’ve got to jump.”

  Marty had slumped all the way down in the seat, as low as he could get. I think he was trying to hide from the skeletons.

  Now he raised his head and peeked over the side of the tram. “Erin — we can’t jump!” he cried. “We’re going too fast.”

  He was right.

  We were rocketing along the road. And the tram kept picking up speed. The trees and shrubs whirred past in a dark blur.

  And then as we squealed into a sharp curve, a tall building seemed to jump into our path.

  A castle, bathed in swirling spotlights. All gray and silver. Twin towers reached up to the sky. A solid stone wall rose up from the road.

  The road.

  It curved straight into the castle wall. The road ended at the wall.

  And we were roaring down the road, still picking up speed.

  Roaring toward the castle.

  The skeletons rattled and clattered and laughed their dry, screeching laugh. They bounced in their seats, bones cracking, jumping in excitement as we zoomed at the castle.

  Closer. Closer.

  Right up to it now. Up to the solid stone wall.

  About to smash right into it.

  My legs trembled. My heart pounded. But somehow I managed to stand up on the seat.

  I took a deep breath. Held it. Closed my eyes — and jumped.

  I landed hard on my side, and rolled.

  I saw Marty hesitate. The tram bounced. Marty dove over the side.

  He hit the ground on his stomach. Rolled onto his back. And kept rolling.

  I came to a stop under a tree. And turned to the castle — in time to see the tram plunge into the stone wall.

  Without a sound.

  The first tramcar hit the castle wall and flew through it.

  Silently.

  I could see the skeletons bobbing and bouncing.

  And I saw the next car and the next and the next — all shoot into the castle wall and disappear through it without making a sound.

  A few seconds later, the tram disappeared.

  A heavy silence fell over the road

  The spotlights on the castle wall dimmed.

  “Erin — are you okay?” Marty called weakly.

  I turned to find him on his hands and knees on the other side of the road. I scrambled to my feet. I had scraped my side, but it didn’t hurt too badly.

  “I’m okay,” I told him. I pointed to the castle. “Did you see that?”

  “I saw it,” Marty replied, standing up slowly.
“But I don’t believe it.” He stretched. “How did the tram go through the wall? Do you think the castle isn’t really there? That it’s an optical illusion? Some kind of trick?”

  “There’s an easy way to find out,” I said.

  We walked side by side on the road. The wind rustled the trees, making them whisper all around us. The pavement felt cold under my bare feet.

  “We’ve got to find my dad,” I said quietly. “I’m sure he can explain everything to us.”

  “I hope so,” Marty murmured.

  We stepped up to the castle wall. I stuck out both hands, expecting them to go right through.

  But my hands slapped solid stone.

  Marty lowered his shoulder and shoved it against the castle wall. His shoulder hit the wall with a thud.

  “It’s solid,” Marty said, shaking his head. “It’s a real wall. So how did the tram go through it?”

  “It’s a ghost tram,” I whispered, rubbing my hand against the cold stone. “A ghost tram filled with skeletons.”

  “But we rode in it!” Marty cried.

  I slapped the wall with both hands and spun away from it. “I’m sick of mysteries!” I wailed. “I’m sick of being scared! I’m sick of werewolves and monsters! I’m never going to another scary movie as long as I live!”

  “Your father can explain it all,” Marty said softly, shaking his head. “I’m sure he can.”

  “I don’t want him to explain it!” I cried. “I just want to get away from here!”

  Keeping close together, we made our way around to the side of the castle. I could hear strange, animal howls behind us. And a frightening cackle cut through the air somewhere above our heads.

  I ignored all the sounds. I didn’t want to think about whether they were being made by real monsters or fakes. I didn’t want to think about the frightening creatures we had run into — or the close calls Marty and I had had.

  I didn’t want to think.

  At the back of the castle, the road appeared again. “I hope we’re going in the right direction,” I murmured, following it as it curved into the hill.

  “Me, too,” Marty replied in a tiny voice.

  We picked up our pace, walking quickly in the middle of the road. We tried not to pay attention to the sharp animal calls, the shrill cries, the howls and moans that seemed to follow us everywhere.