Scare School Page 6

  I grabbed Tonya’s arm. “I’m angry, too,” I said. “Look what he did to my hands.” I showed her the cuts and burns. “I’m angry, too, Tonya. That’s why I’m going to do everything I can to get rid of the creature.”

  She tried to pull free. But I held on to her arm. “Why won’t you help me, Tonya? Why?”

  We both jumped as Ms. Simpkin came around the corner. “Sam? Tonya?” The principal hurried over to us.

  “Tonya, the chorus is already onstage,” she said. “You’d better get over there.”

  She turned to me. “Sam, why aren’t you in class? The assembly will be starting in a few minutes.”

  “I—I have these signs,” I said. I started to hold them up.

  But Ms. Simpkin spun away and trotted back the other way. “Let’s go, you two,” she called back to us. “We have a guest speaker this morning. We don’t want to hold up the assembly.”

  Tonya turned and ran toward the auditorium.

  I stared after her, thinking hard. An assembly …

  An assembly …

  Suddenly, I had a plan.

  18

  The assembly was pretty boring. But no one cared. It meant we got out of class.

  The chorus sang two songs. They sounded pretty good. But the girl at the end of the top row slipped during the first song and nearly fell off the bleacher.

  She caught her balance. But her face stayed bright red for the rest of the performance.

  The speaker was a young woman who talked about volunteering to help out with things in the community. She said kids could make a real difference, and it wouldn’t take up much of our time.

  I didn’t really hear too much of her talk. I could only think about the imp and what I planned to do.

  Yes, you’re right. I was obsessed.

  I had made up my mind to destroy the imp once and for all. And nothing was going to stop me.

  When the speaker finished, most kids clapped. A few kids in the back rows booed, just to be funny.

  Ms. Simpkin glared at them. Then she walked to the podium to thank the speaker.

  I took a deep breath and jumped up from my seat. I pushed my way over kids’ legs to the aisle.

  “Hey, Sam—where are you going?”

  “Sam, sit down!”

  “Ow! Get off my foot!”

  I ignored the kids in my row who tried to stop me. I knew what I was going to do. I had been planning it all through the assembly.

  Ms. Simpkin didn’t see me run down the aisle. She didn’t see me climb onto the stage.

  She was making an announcement about the band concert on Friday night. “I want everyone here to cheer on our great band,” she said.

  I don’t think she noticed me until I was standing next to her at the podium.

  She let out a startled cry as I pulled the microphone from her hand.

  I moved away from her and turned to the audience.

  “Hey, imp—!” I shouted into the microphone. “Hey, imp—you want me? Come find me!”

  My hands were trembling. My voice came out high and shrill.

  But I didn’t care.

  I lifted the microphone close to my mouth. “Come find me!” I screamed.

  And then I held up the imp’s tail. I raised it high over my head in my free hand. And I waved it in the air.

  “You want this back?” I screamed. “Hey, imp—you want this back? Come and get it! I dare you! Come and try to get it back!”

  I shook the limp green tail, waving it high over my head. “YOU will drop first!” I cried. “Come and get this! Come on—unless you’re chicken!”

  I stopped to take a breath. My heart was pounding. My whole body was trembling.

  Were the kids cheering me on? Were they behind me?

  No.

  A heavy silence had fallen over the auditorium.

  I saw pale faces staring up at me in wide-eyed horror.

  I sank back. I lowered the tail to my side.

  Have I gone too far? I wondered.

  Have I?

  The answer was yes.

  The next day, the imp went berserk.

  19

  I was tense the rest of the day.

  Every sound made me jump. Every loud voice sent a chill of fear down my back.

  Would the imp come after me?

  Was he waiting for me around the next corner? Outside the classroom? Behind the school?

  I could see that the other kids were frightened, too.

  No one spoke to me. In the lunchroom, kids stayed as far away from me as possible.

  I sat at a table in the back all by myself. The lunchroom was a lot quieter than normal. Kids spoke in whispers, glancing at me, then turning away.

  “What’s the matter?” I shouted. “Is everyone too chicken to help me?”

  No one answered.

  I couldn’t eat my lunch. My mouth was dry as sand. My stomach felt all fluttery.

  As I walked back to my classroom, I realized a hush had fallen over the entire school. A terrified hush.

  Everyone was waiting … waiting for the imp to take his revenge on me.

  I guess I’m on my own, I thought.

  I guess I’m the only kid in this school brave enough to stand up to that creature.

  The next afternoon, I suddenly wasn’t feeling so brave.

  We had been working hard all day. And we’d had a really long spelling test. So Mr. Kimpall gave us a free half hour to do whatever we wanted.

  I walked over to Simpson and Tonya, who were passing a Game Boy back and forth.

  “I need to talk to you two,” I said softly. “I really think you should help me. I—”

  “No way,” Simpson replied sharply. “Go away, Sam—please.”

  “Stay away from us,” Tonya said.

  I could see they weren’t trying to be mean. They were frightened.

  “If the imp heard what you said yesterday afternoon,” Tonya whispered. “We could all be in major trouble.”

  And that’s when things went crazy.

  I felt a spray of something cold on my head. Then my shoulders.

  Cold water!

  Kids started to scream. Chairs scraped.

  I gazed up—and saw that the ceiling sprinklers were gushing water.

  “Whoa!” In a few seconds, I was drenched.

  Kids were screaming, running to the door.

  Water splashed over the desks, puddling rapidly over the linoleum floor.

  Mr. Kimpall was scrambling around his desk, frantically trying to rescue his books and papers.

  I took a few running steps—and slipped in a deep puddle of water.

  My feet slid out from under me. I landed hard on my back.

  And that’s when I heard the popping sound.

  At first, I thought it was popcorn popping.

  But then I saw a ceiling light pop and shatter.

  Then another. Another.

  A whole row of lights exploded.

  Jagged shards of glass rained down over the room.

  Covering my head, I scrambled to my feet. My shoes slid over broken glass.

  POP! POP!

  Two more big bulbs exploded. The pieces of glass sparkled as they fell through the spray of sprinkler water.

  Most kids had made it safely out of the room. I could still hear their screams from out in the hall.

  Mr. Kimpall had a pile of books under his arms. Ducking the falling glass, he slipped and slid to the door.

  “Sam—hurry!” he called, waving frantically to me.

  A hard burst of water splashed down on me. I felt a sharp stab of pain as a piece of an exploded lightbulb grazed the shoulder of my drenched T-shirt.

  Lowering my head, I struggled toward the door.

  I was nearly there, when I heard the buzzing crackle of electricity.

  Looking up, I saw a bright yellow-white bolt shoot across the ceiling.

  Red and yellow sparks flew everywhere.

  ZZZZAAAAPPPPP.

  A jagged b
olt of electricity hit the wall in front of me. It bounced off, sending a shower of sparks over the wet floor.

  Ducking my head, I heard another explosion of glass. And then another bolt of electricity flashed above me.

  Gasping for breath, I stumbled to the classroom door.

  I grabbed the metal doorknob.

  And opened my mouth in a scream of agony as a powerful jolt of electricity burned through my hand … rattled my teeth … shot through my body.

  My hand—I couldn’t remove it from the doorknob.

  Shock after shock made my whole body jump and twist.

  Dancing … dancing out of control in the white-hot jolts of electricity, I knew the imp had had his victory.

  My battle had ended before it had even begun.

  ZZZZZZZTTTT.

  A body-shattering bolt of power shot me to the floor in a crumpled heap.

  I tried to climb to my feet. But I couldn’t make my muscles work.

  Gasping, throbbing in pain, I lay flopping on the wet floor like a dying fish.

  20

  “Unnnnh.” A sick groan escaped my open mouth. I saw bright flashes of red and yellow dancing around me.

  Then I felt strong arms pulling me, sliding me over the wet floor.

  I blinked several times. I let out a strong whoosh of air, forcing myself to start breathing again.

  I looked up to see who had rescued me. “Teri?” She let go of my arms. And sank back into the crowd that had formed a circle around me.

  I gazed up at Mr. Kimpall, Simpson, and Tim Poster.

  “Sam? Can you hear me? Can you speak?” Mr. Kimpall asked, lowering his face to mine.

  “Uh … ” I struggled to answer. My face wasn’t working right. I couldn’t get my lips to form words.

  “You had a nasty shock,” Mr. Kimpall said. “Lie still. We called for a doctor to come check you out.”

  Tim and Simpson stared down at me as if I were some sort of alien creature. Behind them I saw the other kids from my class, all soaked, shaking from the cold.

  “I don’t know what set the sprinklers off,” Mr. Kimpall said, still leaning over me. “I’ve never seen anything like that.”

  I know what set them off, I thought bitterly. His name is spelled i-m-p.

  And all that destruction, all that horror had only one target—

  Me.

  The doctor arrived a few minutes later. She examined me carefully and said I was okay.

  Ms. Simpkin offered to drive me home. On the way, she lectured me about the big mistake I’d made at the assembly.

  “The whole school had to pay for your little outburst,” she said sternly. “But you were lucky this time, Sam. The imp let you survive.”

  She turned to me as she parked in front of my house. “The next time … ” she said. “The next time … ” Her voice trailed off.

  I felt a shiver of fear.

  I had felt so brave before. So sure of myself.

  But I had seen the power of the imp. Thinking about it sent chill after chill down my back.

  “Don’t you want to get rid of the imp?” I asked Ms. Simpkin. “Don’t you want to chase it away so the school can be normal?”

  She didn’t answer. Instead, she waved me out of the car. “See you tomorrow, Sam,” she said softly. “I hope.”

  21

  Friday afternoon, we had a long band practice after school. Our last chance to work on our songs before the concert that night.

  I sat down next to Teri and started to warm up. “How’s it going?” I asked her. “You nervous about tonight? Are your parents coming?”

  My parents were coming to the concert tonight straight from work.

  Teri didn’t answer. She moved her music stand so that she could turn her back to me. She started playing scales on her clarinet really loud.

  “Okay, okay. I can take a hint,” I said. I grabbed her shoulder and forced her to stop playing.

  “The imp isn’t going to hurt you just because you talk to me,” I said. “I’m the one who challenged the imp—not you. I’m the one who’s in trouble.”

  “Sam, you don’t know what you’re saying,” she said. She kept her back to me. “Look at all the trouble you’ve caused. No one feels safe now. Why did you have to stir things up?”

  “I … I just want things to be normal,” I said. “I don’t see why everyone in this school—”

  “The imp is going to do something horrible at the concert tonight,” Teri said. “I know he is. And it will be all your fault.”

  “But if we all join together—” I started to say. “If we find out who it is and stand up to him … ”

  She raised her clarinet to her mouth and began playing scales again.

  I let out a sigh. Then I started to warm up again.

  Usually, playing my saxophone relaxes me. But not today. I had a tight knot in my throat. I could barely blow hard enough to make a sound.

  “As you know, the concert begins at eight o’clock,” Mr. Kelly said at the end of practice. “But you should all be here by seven-thirty.”

  I glanced at the clock. It was a quarter to five. Not much time.

  I had to hurry home, grab some dinner, and change. Mom said she’d leave food for me to warm up in the microwave.

  In a way, I was glad Mom and Dad weren’t going to be home. Things had been a little tense at my house ever since I told them about the imp.

  My parents kept watching me all the time, as if trying to decide if I had totally lost it or not.

  “Good luck tonight,” Mr. Kelly said. He glanced at me as he said it. “Have a good concert, people.”

  Everyone started to pack up. I stayed in my chair, holding on to my sax as if holding on to a life preserver.

  I made no attempt to move as Mr. Kelly walked over to me. His eyes locked on mine. “Sam? Are you going to be okay?” he asked softly.

  I shrugged. “I guess,” I said.

  He cleared his throat. He glanced tensely at the band room door. “If you think you should stay home tonight, I’ll understand,” he said.

  I let out an angry cry. “You’re afraid, too?” I screamed. “Well, forget about me staying home. I’ll be here at seven-thirty sharp.”

  His mouth dropped open in surprise.

  I stomped out of the room without even putting away my horn. My hands were clenched into tight fists. I could feel the anger making my face grow hot.

  I made my way down the stairs two at a time.

  I hurried down the hall. Turned the corner—and saw the imp standing in front of my locker.

  A cold smile spread over his face as he saw me. He uncurled his back until he stood straight up, all three feet of him. He pressed his hands against his fury waist, tapping his long, snakelike fingers against his sides.

  He kept his gaze on me and took a step toward me. Then another.

  I took a deep breath. And held it.

  This is it, I realized.

  Showdown time.

  22

  My legs started to shake.

  I struggled to breathe. Raising my fists, I prepared for a fight.

  But to my surprise, the imp stopped halfway toward me.

  His smile faded. His dark eyes burned into mine. Slowly, he raised his right hand. And pointed a long, bony finger at me.

  He just stood there, glaring at me. His finger pointed at my throat.

  We stood frozen like that for a long, long time.

  And then the ratlike creature opened his mouth and whispered one word: “Later.”

  He spun away—and started to run. His bare feet made loud slapping noises on the hard floor. His body bounced heavily over his slender, running legs.

  “Oh.” A soft cry of surprise escaped my throat.

  And then I took off after him.

  “You—you’re not getting away!” I tried to shout.

  But my voice came out in a muffled whisper.

  He whipped around the corner, a flash of green. Gasping for breath, I raced after him
.

  The school was deserted. The only sounds were the rapid, sharp slap of his bare feet on the floor and my wheezing breaths.

  “Help me! Can anyone help me?” I shouted.

  My shrill cry rang out through the hall. But there was no one there to reply.

  We rounded another corner. And then I saw him flying up the back stairs.

  The hall was darker there. The classroom doors were all shut. I realized I had never been in this back hall.

  I followed the imp up the stairs. His bouncing body was a dim ball of green against the darkness.

  I stopped at the top of the stairs and squinted down the long hall. The ceiling was low. The hall cluttered with stacks of cartons, piles of old books.

  The rooms were all empty and dark.

  I heard the slap of the imp’s feet up ahead. But I couldn’t see him.

  I forced myself to move.

  Stumbling over a box of file folders, I lurched after the creature.

  I heard a door slam hard.

  I turned and found myself in a narrow, short hallway. I saw only two doors against the wall. Two solid black doors.

  I stepped up between them.

  The imp had to go into one of these rooms, I knew.

  But which one?

  Had I followed the imp to his home?

  My eyes moved from one door to the other.

  Which one? Which one?

  Finally, I grabbed the handle of the door on the left—and pulled open the door.

  “Tim!” I cried.

  23

  Tim Poster was curled up in a black desk chair against the back wall of the small room. As I burst into the room, he dropped the book he had been holding and jumped to his feet.

  “Sam—?” he called out, blinking in surprise.

  The room was some kind of supply closet. Old computers were stacked in front of the window. Several folding chairs and two desks were pushed against one wall.

  A single lamp behind Tim’s desk chair provided the only light.

  “Tim—it’s you—isn’t it!” I cried. “I—I followed you here! And you—”

  His face twisted in confusion. “Huh? What’s wrong? What are you talking about?”

  He bent to pick up the book he had dropped.