Post on 11-Sep-2021
transcript
ASHOCKERONSHOCKSTREET
Goosebumps-35R.L.Stine
(AnUndeadScanv1.5)
1
“Thisiscreepy,Erin.”MyfriendMartygrabbedmysleeve.“Letgo!”Iwhispered.“You’rehurtingme!”Marty didn’t seem to hear. He stared straight ahead into the darkness,
grippingmyarm.“Marty,please—”Iwhispered.Ishookmyarmfree.Iwasscared,too.But
Ididn’twanttoadmitit.Itwasdarkerthanthedarkestnight.Isquintedhard,tryingtosee.Andthen
agraylightgloweddimlyinfrontofus.Martyduckedlow.Eveninthefoggylight,Icouldseethefearinhiseyes.He grabbed my arm again. His mouth dropped open. I could hear him
breathinghardandfast.EventhoughIwasfrightened,asmilecrossedmyface.IlikedseeingMarty
scared.Ireallyenjoyedit.I know, I know. That’s terrible. I admit it. ErinWright is a bad person.
WhatkindofafriendamI?ButMartyalwaysbragsthatheisbraverthanme.Andheisusuallyright.
Heusuallyisthebraveone,andI’mthewimp.Butnottoday.That’swhyseeingMartygaspinfrightandgrabmyarmmademesmile.Thegraylightaheadofusslowlygrewbrighter.Iheardcrunchingsounds
onbothsidesofus.Closebehindme,someonecoughed.ButMartyandIdidn’tturnaround.Wekeptoureyesstraightahead.
Waiting.Watching….AsIsquinted into thegray light,a fencecame intoview.A longwooden
fence, itspaint fadedandpeeling.Ahand-lettered signappearedon the fence:DANGER.KEEPOUT.THISMEANSYOU.
MartyandIbothgaspedwhenweheardthescrapingsounds.Softatfirst.Thenlouder.Likegiantclawsscrapingagainsttheothersideofthefence.
I tried toswallow,butmymouthsuddenlyfeltdry. Ihad theurge torun.JustturnandrunasfastasIcould.
ButIcouldn’tleaveMartythereallalone.Andbesides,ifIranawaynow,
hewouldneverletmeforgetit.He’dteasemeaboutitforever.SoIstayedbesidehim,listeningasthescraping,clawingsoundsturnedinto
banging.Loudcrashes.Wassomeonetryingtobreakthroughthefence?Wemoved quickly along the fence. Faster, faster—until the tall, peeling
fencepicketsbecameagrayblur.Butthesoundfollowedus.Heavyfootstepsontheothersideofthefence.Westaredstraightahead.Wewereonanemptystreet.Afamiliarstreet.Yes,wehadbeenherebefore.Thepavementwaspuddledwithrainwater.Thepuddlesglowedinthepale
lightfromthestreetlamps.I took a deep breath. Marty gripped my arm harder. Our mouths gaped
open.Toourhorror,thefencebegantoshake.Thewholestreetshook.Therain
puddlessplashedagainstthecurb.Thefootstepsthunderedcloser.“Marty—!”Igaspedinachokedwhisper.BeforeIcouldsayanotherword,thefencecrumbledtotheground,andthe
monstercameburstingout.Ithadahead likeawolf—snapping jawsofgleamingwhite teeth—anda
bodylikeagiantcrab.Itswungfourhugeclawsinfrontofit,clickingthematusasitssnoutpulledopeninathroatygrowl.
“NOOOOOOO!”MartyandIbothletouthowlsofterror.Wejumpedtoourfeet.Buttherewasnowheretorun.
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Westoodandstaredasthewolf-crabcrawledtowardus.“Please sit down, kids,” a voice called out behind us. “I can’t see the
screen.”“Ssshhhh!”someoneelsewhispered.MartyandIglancedateachother.Iguesswebothfeltlikejerks.IknowI
did.Wedroppedbackintoourseats.Andwatchedthewolf-crabscamperacrossthestreet,chasingafteralittle
boyonatricycle.“What’s your problem, Erin?” Marty whispered, shaking his head. “It’s
onlyamovie.Whydidyouscreamlikethat?”“Youscreamedtoo!”Irepliedsharply.“Ionlyscreamedbecauseyouscreamed!”heinsisted.“Sssshhh!” someone pleaded. I sank low in the seat. I heard crunching
soundsallaroundme.Peopleeatingpopcorn.Someonebehindmecoughed.Onthescreen,thewolf-crabreachedouthisbig,redclawsandgrabbedthe
kidonthetrike.SNAP.SNAP.Good-bye,kid.Somepeopleinthetheaterlaughed.Itwasprettyfunny.That’s the great thing about the Shocker on Shock Streetmovies. They
makeyouscreamandlaughatthesametime.Marty and I sat back and enjoyed the rest of the movie.We love scary
movies,buttheShockStreetfilmsareourfavorites.Intheend,thepolicecaughtthewolf-crab.Theyboiledhiminabigpotof
water.Then theyservedsteamedcrab to thewhole town.Everyonesatarounddippinghiminbuttersauce.Theyallsaidhewasdelicious.
Itwastheperfectending.MartyandIclappedandcheered.Martyputtwofingersinhismouthandwhistledthroughhisteeththewayhealwaysdoes.
WehadjustseenShockeronShockStreetVI,anditwasdefinitelythebestoneoftheseries.
Thetheaterlightscameon.Weturneduptheaisleandstartedtomakeourwaythroughthecrowd.
“Greatspecialeffects,”amantoldhisfriend.“Specialeffects?”thefriendreplied.“Ithoughtitwasallreal!”
Theybothlaughed.Martybumpedmehardfrombehind.Hethinksit’sfunnytotryandknock
meover.“Prettygoodmovie,”hesaid.Iturnedbacktohim.“Huh?Prettygood?”“Well, it wasn’t scary enough,” he replied. “Actually, it was kind of
babyish.ShockerVwasalotscarier.”I rolledmy eyes. “Marty, you screamed your head off—remember?You
jumpedoutofyourseat.Yougrabbedmyarmand—”“I only did that because I saw how scared youwere,” he said, grinning.
Whataliar!Whycan’theeveradmititwhenhe’sscared?Hestuckhissneakeroutandtriedtotripme.Idodgedtotheleft,stumbled—andbumpedhardintoayoungwoman.“Hey—lookout!”shecried.“Youtwinsshouldbemorecareful.”“We’renottwins!”MartyandIcriedinunison.We’renotevenbrotherandsister.We’renotrelatedinanyway.Butpeople
alwaysthinkthatMartyandIaretwins.Iguesswedolookalotalike.We’rebothtwelveyearsold.Andwe’reboth
prettyshortandkindofchubby.Webothhaveroundfaces,shortblackhair,andblueeyes.Andwebothhavelittlenosesthatsortofturnup.
Butwe’renottwins!We’reonlyfriends.Iapologizedtothewoman.WhenIturnedbacktoMarty,hestuckouthis
shoeandtriedtotripmeagain.Istumbled,butquicklycaughtmybalance.ThenIstuckoutmyshoe—and
trippedhim.Wekepttrippingeachotherthroughthelonglobby.Peoplewerestaringat
us,butwedidn’tcare.Wewerelaughingtoohard.“Doyouknowthecoolestthingaboutthismovie?”Iasked.“No.What?”“Thatwe’rethefirstkidsintheworldtoseeit!”Iexclaimed.“Yeah!”MartyandIslappedeachotherahighfive.Wehad just seenShockeronShockStreetVIat a special sneakpreview.
Mydadworkswithalotofmoviepeople,andhegotusticketsforit.Theothersinthetheaterwerealladults.MartyandIweretheonlykids.
“Knowwhat elsewas really cool?” I asked. “Themonsters.All of them.Theylookedsoincrediblyreal.Itdidn’tlooklikespecialeffectsatall.”
Martyfrowned.“Well,IthoughttheElectricEelWomanwasprettyphony-looking.Shedidn’tlooklikeaneel—shelookedlikeabigworm!”
Ilaughed.“Thenwhydidyoujumpoutofyourseatwhensheshotaboltofelectricityandfriedthatgangofteenagers?”
“Ididn’tjump,”Martyinsisted.“Youdid!”“Didnot!Youjumpedbecauseit lookedsoreal,”Iinsisted.“AndIheard
youchokewhentheToxicCreepleapedoutofthenuclearwastepit.”“IchokedonaMilkDud,that’sall.”“Youwerescared,Marty,becauseitwassoreal.”“Hey—what if theyare real?!”Martyexclaimed.“What if it isn’t special
effects?Whatifthey’reallrealmonsters?”“Don’tbedumb,”Isaid.Weturnedthecornerintoanotherhall.Thewolf-crabstoodwaitingformethere.Ididn’tevenhavetimetoscream.Heopenedhistoothyjawsinalongwolfhowl—andwrappedtwogiantred
clawsaroundmywaist.
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Iopenedmymouthtoscream,butonlyasqueakcameout.Iheardpeoplelaughing.Thebigclawsslidoffmywaist.Plasticclaws.Isawtwodarkeyesstaringoutatmefrombehindthewolfmask.Ishould
have known that it was a man in a costume. But I didn’t expect him to bestandingthere.
Iwassurprised,that’sall.I blinked at awhite flash of light.Aman had just taken a picture of the
creature.Isawabigredandyellowsignagainstthewall:SEETHEMOVIE—THENPLAYTHEGAMEONCD-ROM.
“SorryifIscaredyou,”themaninsidethewolf-crabcostumesaidsoftly.“Shescareseasily!”Martydeclared.IgaveMartyahardshove,andwehurriedaway.I turnedbacktosee the
creaturewavingaclawatme.“We’vegottogoupstairsandseemydad,”ItoldMarty.
“TellmesomethingIdon’tknow.”Hethinkshe’ssofunny.Dad’s office is upstairs from the theater, on the twenty-ninth floor. We
joggedtotheelevatorsattheendofthehallandtookoneup.Dadhasareallycooljob.Hebuildsthemeparks.Andhedesignsallkinds
ofrides.DadwasoneofthedesignersofPrehistoricPark.That’sthebigthemepark
whereyougobacktoprehistorictimes.Ithasallkindsofneatridesandshows—anddozensofhugedinosaurrobotswanderingaround.
AndDadworkedontheFantasyFilmsStudioTour.EveryonewhocomestoHollywoodgoesonthattour.
Dad’sideawasthepartwhereyouwalkthroughahugemoviescreenandfindyourselfinaworldofmoviecharacters.Youcanstarinanykindofmovieyouwanttobein!
Iknow it soundsas if I’mbragging,butDad is really smart, andhe’s anengineeringgenius!Ithinkheistheworldexpertonrobots.Hecanbuildrobotsthatwilldoanything!Andheusestheminallhisparksandstudiotours.
MartyandIsteppedofftheelevatoronthetwenty-ninthfloor.Wewavedtothewomanatthefrontdesk.ThenwehurriedtoDad’sofficeattheendofthehall.
Itlooksmorelikeaplayroomthananoffice.It’sabigroom.Huge,really.Filledwith toys, and stuffed cartoon characters,movie posters, andmodels ofmonsters.
MartyandIlovetoroamaroundtheoffice,staringatalltheneatstuff.Onthewalls,Dadhasgreatpostersfromadozendifferentmovies.Onalongtable,hehasamodelofTheTumbler,theupside-downrollercoasterhedesigned.Themodelhaslittlecarsthatreallyscreecharoundthetracks.
Andhehasa lotofcoolstuff fromShockStreet—likeoneof theoriginalfurrypawsthatWolfGirlworeinNightmareonShockStreet.Hekeepsit inaglasscaseonthewindowsill.
Hehasmodelsoftramcarsandlittletrainsandplanesandrockets.Evenabig,silverplasticblimp.It’sradio-controlled,andhecanmakeitfloatroundandaroundhisoffice.
Whatagreatplace!IalwaysthinkofDad’sofficeasthehappiestplaceintheworld.
But today, asMarty and I stepped inside,Daddidn’t look toohappy.Hehunchedoverhisdeskwiththetelephonetohisear.Hisheadwaslowered,hiseyesdown.Hekeptahandpressedagainsthisforeheadashemumbledintothephone.
DadandIdon’tlookatallalike.I’mshortanddark.He’stallandthin.Andhehasblondhair,althoughthere’snotmuchleftofit.He’sprettybald.
Hehasthekindofskinthatturnsredeasily.His cheeks get real pinkwhen he talks.Andhewears big, round glasses
withdarkframesthathidehisbrowneyes.Martyand I stoppedat thedoorway. Idon’t thinkDadsawus.Hestared
downatthedesk.Hehadhistiepulleddownandhisshirtcollaropen.Hemutteredforashortwhilelonger.MartyandIcreptintotheoffice.Finally,Dadsetdown thephone.Heraisedhiseyesandsawus.“Oh,hi,
youtwo,”hesaidsoftly.Hischeeksturnedbrightpink.“Dad—what’swrong?”Iasked.He sighed. Then he pulled off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his
nose.“Ihaveverybadnews,Erin.Verybadnews.”
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“Dad—whatisit?What?”Icried.ThenIsawthegrinslowlyspreadacrosshisface.IknewI’dbeentricked
again.“Gotcha!”hedeclared.Hisbrowneyesflashedgleefully.Hischeekswere
brightpink.“Gotchaagain.Youfallforthatgageverytime.”“Dad—!”Iletoutanangrycry.ThenIrusheduptothedesk,wrappedmy
handsaroundhisneck,andpretendedtostranglehim.We both collapsed against each other, laughing. Marty still stood in the
doorway,shakinghishead.“Mr.Wright,thatissolame,”hemuttered.Dadstruggledtosliphisglassesbackon.“I’msorry.Youkidsarejusttoo
easytofool.Icouldn’tresist.”Hesmiledatme.“Actually,I’vegotgoodnews.”“Goodnews?Isthisanotherjoke?”Idemandedsuspiciously.Heshookhishead.Hepickedupsomethingfromhisdesk.“Checkthisout,
guys.Doyouknowwhatthisis?”Hehelditinhispalm.MartyandIcameclosertoexamineit.Itwasalittle,whiteplasticvehicle
withfourwheels.“Somekindoftraincar?”Iguessed.“It’satramcar,”Dadexplained.“See?Peoplesitonlongbenchesinsideit.
Here.It’smotor-driven.”Hepointedtothefrontofthemodeltoshowwheretheenginewent.“Butdoyouknowwherethistramcarwillbeused?”
“Dad,wegiveup.Justtellus,”Iinsistedimpatiently.“Stopkeepingusinsuspense.”
“Okay,okay.”Hischeeksreddened.Hissmilegrewwider.“ThisisamodelofthetramthatwillbeusedattheShockerStudioTour.”
Mymouthdroppedopen.“Doyoumeanthetourisfinallygoingtoopen?”IknewthatDadhadbeenworkingonitforyears.
Dadnodded.“Yes.We’refinallyabouttoopenittothepublic.Butbeforewedo,Iwantyoutwototestitout.”
“Huh?Youmeanit?”Ishrieked.Iwassoexcited,IfeltasifI’dburstoutofmyskin!
IturnedtoMarty.Hewasleapingupanddown,shootingbothfistsintotheair.“Yes!Yes!Yes!”
“Ibuiltthiswholetour,”Dadsaid,“andIwantyoutwotobethefirstkids
intheworldtogoonit.Iwanttoknowyouropinion.Whatyoulikeandwhatyoudon’tlike.”
“Yes!Yes!Yes!”Martykeptleapingintotheair.IthoughtImighthavetotiearopearoundhiswaistandholdontoittokeephimfromfloatingaway!
“Dad—theShockStreetmoviesare thebest!”Icried.“This isawesome!”AndthenIadded,“Isthetourveryscary?”
Dadrestedahandonmyshoulder.“Ihopeso,”hereplied.“Itriedtomakeit as scary and real as I could.You get on the tram and you ride through thewhole movie studio. You get to meet all of the characters from the horrormovies.AndthenthetramtakesyouonaslowridedownShockStreet.”
“The realShockStreet?”Marty cried. “Doyoumean it?Youget to ridedowntherealstreetwheretheymakethemovies?”
Dadnodded.“Yes.TherealShockStreet.”“Yes!Yes!Yes!”Martystartedpumpinghisfistsintheairagain,shouting
likeamaniac.“Awesome!”Icried.“Totallyawesome!”IwasasexcitedasMarty.SuddenlyMarty stopped leaping. His expression turned serious. “Maybe
Erinshouldn’tgo,”hetoldmydad.“Shegetstooscared.”“Huh?”Icried.“She was so scared during the movie sneak preview, I had to hold her
hand,”MartytoldDad.Whataliar!“Givemeabreak!”Icriedangrily.“Ifanyonewasascaredy-catwimp,it
wasyou,Marty!”Dad raised both hands to signalhalt. “Calmdown, guys,” he said softly.
“Noarguing.Youhave tokeep together.Youknow,you twowillbe theonlyonesonthetourtomorrow.Theonlyones.”
“Yes!”Martycheeredhappily.“Yes!Yes!”“Wow!That’sgreat!”Icried.“It’stotallygreat.It’sgoingtobethebest!”
ThenIhadanidea.“CanMomcometoo?Ibetshewouldreallyenjoyit.”“Excuse me?” Dad squinted at me through his glasses. His whole face
turnedbrightred.“Whatdidyousay?”“IaskedifMomcouldcometoo,”Irepeated.Dadkeptstaringatmeforalongtime,studyingme.“Areyoufeelingokay,
Erin?”heaskedfinally.“Yes.Fine,”Irepliedmeekly.Isuddenlyfeltveryconfusedandupset.WhathadIdonewrong?
WassomethingwrongwithMom?WhywasDadstaringatmelikethat?
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Dadcamearoundthedeskandputanarmaroundmyshoulder.“IthinkyouandMartywill have abetter time if yougobyyourselves,”he said softly. “Don’tyouagree?”
Inodded.“Yeah.Iguess.”Istillwonderedwhyhewasstaringatmesosuspiciously.ButIdecidednot
to askhim. I didn’twant him toget angryor something and changehismindaboutusgoingonthetour.
“Do you mean you’re not coming with us?” Marty asked Dad. “We’rereallygoingbyourselves?”
“Iwant you togobyyourselves,”Dad replied. “I think thatwillmake itmoreexcitingforyou.”
Martygrinnedatme.“Ihopeit’sreallyscary!”hedeclared.“Don’t worry,” Dad replied. A strange smile spread over his face. “You
won’tbedisappointed.”Thenextafternoon,agrayhazehungintheairasDaddroveMartyandme
toShockerStudios.I satup frontwithDad,peeringout thecarwindowat the smog.“It’s so
gloomyout,”Imurmured.“Perfectforahorrormovie tour,”Martychimedinfromthebackseat.He
wassoexcited,hecouldbarelysitstill.Hekeptbouncinghislegsupanddownandtappinghishandsontheleatherseat.
IhadneverseenMartysocrazed.Ifhedidn’thavehisseatbelttoholdhimdown,he’dprobablybouncerightoutofthecar!
The car climbed up the Hollywood hills. The narrow road curved pastredwoodhousesandtree-filledyardscutintothesidesofthehills.
Asweclimbed,theskyturnedevendarker.We’redrivingupintoacloudof fog, I thought. Far in the distance, I could see the HOLLYWOOD sign,stretchinginthehazeacrossadarkpeak.
“Hopeitdoesn’train,”Imuttered,watchingthefogrolloverthesign.Dadchuckled.“YouknowitneverrainsinLosAngeles!”“Which monsters are we going to see?” Marty asked, bouncing in the
backseat.“IsShockroonthetour?DowereallygettowalkonShockStreet?”
Dadsquintedhardthroughhisglasses,turningthewheelastheroadcurvedandtwisted.“I’mnottelling,”hereplied.“Idon’twanttospoilitforyou.Iwantitalltobeasurprise.”
“IjustwantedtoknowsoIcouldwarnErin,”Martysaid.“Idon’twanthertogettooscared.Shemightfaintorsomething.”Helaughed.
Iletoutanangrygrowl.ThenIturnedaroundandtriedtopunchhim.ButIcouldn’treach.
Marty leaned forward andmessed upmy hair with both hands. “Get offme!”Iscreamed.“I’mwarningyou—!”
“Takeiteasy,guys,”Dadsaidsoftly.“We’rehere.”I turned and stared out the windshield. The road had flattened out. Up
ahead,anenormoussignproclaimedSHOCKERSTUDIOSinscary,blood-redletters.
We drove slowly up to the huge iron gates in the front. The gates wereclosed.Aguardinasmallblackboothsatreadinganewspaper.Iglimpsedgoldscriptlettersabovethegate.Theyspelledoutoneword:BEWARE.
Dadpulledrightuptothegate,andtheguardpeeredup.HegaveDadabigsmile.Thenhepressedabutton, and thegates slowly swungopen.Daddrovethecarintothetallwhiteparkinggaragebesidethestudio.Heparkedinthefirstspacenexttotheentrance.Thegarageseemedtostretchonforever.ButIcouldseeonlythreeorfourothercarsinside.
“Whenweopennextweek,thisgaragewillbejammed!”Dadsaid.“Therewillbethousandsofpeoplehere.Ihope.”
“And today,we’re the only ones!”Marty cried excitedly, jumping out ofthecar.
“We’resolucky!”Iagreed.A fewminutes later, wewere standing on the platform outside themain
building, facingawide street,waiting for the tram to takeuson the tour.Thestreet led todozensofwhitestudiobuildings,spreadoutall thewaydownthehill.
Dadpointedtotwoenormousbuildingsasbigasairplanehangars.“Thosearethesoundstages,”heexplained.“Theyfilmalotofmoviescenesinsidethosebuildings.”
“Doesthetourgoinsidethem?”Martydemanded.“WhereisShockStreet?Where are themonsters?Are theymaking amovienow?Canwewatch themmakingit?”
“Whoa!”Dadcried.HeplacedhishandsonMarty’sshouldersasiftokeephimfromflyingofftheground.IhadneverseenMartysototallywired!“Takeit
easy,fella,”Dadwarned.“You’llblowafuse!Youwon’tsurvivethetour!”Ishookmyhead.“Maybeweshouldputhimonaleash,”ItoldDad.“Arf, arf!”Martybarked.Thenhe snappedhis teeth atme, trying to bite
me.Ishivered.Thefogrolledinfromthehills.Theairfeltdampandcold.The
skydarkened.Twomen in business suits came zooming along the street in a golf cart.
Theywerebothtalkingatonce.OneofthemwavedtoDad.“Canwe ride in one of those carts?”Marty asked. “CanErin and I each
haveourowncart?”“No way,” Dad told him. “You have to take the automated tram. And
remember—stayinthetramcar.Nomatterwhat.”“Youmeanwecan’twalkonShockStreet?”Martywhined.Dadshookhishead.“Notallowed.Youhavetostayonthetram.”Heturnedtome.“I’llbewaitingforyouhereontheplatformwhenyouget
back.Iwantafullreport.Iwanttoknowwhatyoulikeandwhatyoudon’tlike.Anddon’tworryifthingsdon’tworkexactlyright.Therearestillafewbugstoworkout.”
“Hey—here comes the tram!” Marty cried, hopping up and down andpointing.
Thetramcamerollingsilentlyaroundthecorner.Icountedsixtramcarsinall.Theywere shaped like roller-coaster cars,openon top—onlymuch longerandwider.Thecarswereblack.Agrinningwhiteskullwaspaintedonthefrontofthefirstcar.
Ayoung,red-hairedwomanwearingablackuniformwasseatedonthefirstbenchinthefrontcar.Shewavedtousasthetramrolleduptotheplatform.Shewastheonlypassenger.
Shehoppedoutasthetramstopped.“Hi,I’mLinda.I’myourtourguide.”Shesmiledatmydad.Herredhairflutteredinthewind.
“Hello,Linda,”Dadsaid,smilingbackather.HegentlyshovedMartyandmeforward.“Hereareyourfirsttwovictims.”
Lindalaughedandaskedusournames.Wetoldher.“Canwerideinfront?”Martyaskedeagerly.“Yes, of course,” Linda replied. “You can sit anywhere you want. This
wholerideisjustforyou.”“Allright!”Martycried.Heslappedmeahighfive.Dadlaughed.“IthinkMartyisreadytobegin,”hetoldLinda.
Lindapushedherredhairoutofherface.“Youcanstartrightaway,guys.Butfirst,there’ssomethingIhavetodo.”
Sheleanedoverthetramcarandtuggedoutablackcanvasbag.“Thiswillonlytakeasecond,guys.”Shepulledaredplasticgunfromthebag.“ThisisaShockerStunRayBlaster.”
Shegrippedtheplasticpistoltightly.ItlookedlikesomethinginaStarTrekmovie. Her smile faded. Her green eyes narrowed. “Be careful with theseblasters,guys.Theycanfreezeamonsterinitstracksfromtwentyfeet.”
Shehandedtheblastertome.ThenshereachedintoherbagtogetoneforMarty. “Don’t fire themunless you have to.” She swallowed hard and bit herlowerlip.“Isurehopeyoudon’thaveto.”
Ilaughed.“You’rekidding—right?Thesearejusttoys—right?”Shedidn’tanswer.Shepulledanotherblaster fromherbagandstarted to
bringittoMarty.Butshestumbledoveracordontheplatform.“Ohh!”Sheletoutastartled
cryastheblasterwentoffinherhand.Aloudbuzz.Abrightrayofyellowlight.AndLindastoodfrozenontheplatform.
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“Linda!Linda!”Iscreamed.Marty’smouthdroppedopen.Heletoutachokedgurgle.IturnedtoDad.Tomysurprise,hewaslaughing.“Dad—she’s—she’sfrozen!”Icried.ButwhenIturnedbacktoLinda,she
hadabigsmileonherface,too.Ittookusbothawhile,butwesoonrealizedthewholethingwasajoke.“That’sthefirstshockontheShockertour,”Lindaannounced,loweringthe
redblaster.SheputahandonMarty’sshoulder.“I thinkI reallyshockedyou,Marty!”
“Noway!”Martyinsisted.“Iknewitwasajoke.Ijustplayedalong.”“Come on, Marty!” I cried, rolling my eyes. “You nearly dropped your
teeth!”“Erin, Iwasn’tscared,”Marty insistedsharply.“Really. I justwentalong
withthejoke.DoyoureallythinkI’dfallforadumbplasticblastergun?”Martyissuchajerk.Whycan’theeveradmititwhenhe’sscared?“Climbin,youtwo,”Dadurged.“Let’sgetthisshowontheroad.”MartyandIclimbedintothefrontseatofthetram.Ilookedforaseatbelt
orasafetybar,buttherewasn’tone.“Areyoucomingwithus?”IaskedLinda.She shook her head. “No. You’re on your own. The tram moves
automatically.”ShehandedMartyhisStunBlaster.“Hopeyoudon’tneedit.”“Yeah.Sure,”Martymuttered,rollinghiseyes.“Thisgunissobabyish.”“Remember—I’llmeetyoubackhereattheendoftheride,”Dadsaid.He
waved.“Enjoyit.Iwantafullreport.”“Don’tgetoutofthetram,”Lindaremindedus.“Keepyourheadandarms
inside.Anddon’tstandupwhilethetramismoving.”Shesteppedonabluebuttonon theplatform.The tramstartedupwitha
jolt. Marty and I were thrown back against the seat. Then the tram rolledsmoothlyforward.
“FirststopisTheHauntedHouseofHorror!”Lindacalledafterus.“Goodluck!”
I turned back to see herwaving to us, her long red hair fluttering in thewind.Astrongbreezeblewagainstusasthetrammadeitswaydownthehill.
Theskywasnearlyasdarkasnight.Someof thewhite studiobuildingswerehiddenbythefog.
“Stupidgun,”Martymuttered,rollingitaroundinhishands.“Whydoweneedthisplasticgun?Ihopethewholetourisn’tthisbabyish.”
“Ihopeyoudon’tcomplainallafternoon,”I toldhim,frowning.“Doyourealizehowawesomethisis?We’regoingtoseeallthegreatcreaturesfromtheShockermovies.”
“Think we’ll see Shockro?” he asked. Shockro is his favorite. I guessbecausehe’ssototallygross.
“Probably,”Ireplied,myeyesonthelowbuildingswewerepassing.Theyallstooddarkandempty.
“IwanttoseeWolfBoyandWolfGirl,”Martysaid,countingthemonstersoff on his fingers. “And… the Piranha People, and Captain Sick, The GreatGopherMutant,and—”
“Wow!Look!”Icried,poundinghisshoulderandpointing.As the tram turneda sharpcorner,TheHauntedHouseofHorror loomed
darklyinfrontofus.Theroofanditstallstoneturretswerehiddenbythefog.Therestofthemansionstoodgrayagainsttheduskysky.
Thetramtookusnearer.Tallweedschokedthefrontlawn.Theweedsbentand swayed in the wind. The gray shingles on the house were chipped andpeeling. Pale green light, dim, eerie light, floated out from the tallwindow infront.
Aswerodecloser,Icouldseearustyironporchswing—swingingbyitself!—onabroken,rottingporch.
“Cool!”Iexclaimed.“Itlooksalotsmallerthaninthemovie,”Martygrumbled.“It’sexactlythesamehouse!”Icried.“Thenwhydoesitlooksomuchsmaller?”hedemanded.Whatacomplainer.I turned away from him and studied TheHauntedHouse. An iron fence
surrounded the place. Aswemoved around to the side, the rusty gate swungopen,squeakingandcreaking.
“Look!”Ipointedtothedarkwindowsonthesecondfloor.Theshuttersallflewopenatonce,thenbangedshutagain.
Lightscameon in thewindows.Through thewindowshades, I could seethesilhouettesofskeletonshanging,swingingslowlybackandforth.
“That’skindofcool,”Martysaid.“Butnottooscary.”Heraisedhisplasticgunandpretendedtoshootattheskeletons.
WecircledTheHauntedHouseofHorrorsonce.Wecouldhearscreamsofterror from inside. The shutters banged again and again. The porch swingcontinuedtocreakbackandforth,backandforth,asiftakenbyaghost.
“Arewegoinginsideornot?”Martydemandedimpatiently.“Sit back and stop complaining,” I said sharply. “The ride just started.
Don’tspoilitforme,okay?”He stuck his tongue out at me. But he settled back against the seat.We
heardalonghowl,andthenashrillscreamofhorror.Thetrammadeitswaysilentlytothebackofthehouse.Agateswungopen
and we rolled through it. We moved quickly through the overgrown, weed-chokedbackyard.
Thetrampickedupspeed.Webouncedoverthelawn.Uptothebackdoor.Awoodensignabovethedoorread:ABANDONALLHOPE.
We’regoingtocrashrightintothedoor!Ithought.Iduckedandraisedmyhandstoshieldmyself.
Butthedoorcreakedopen,andweburstinside.Thetramslowed.Iloweredmyhandsandsatup.Wewereinadark,dust-
covered kitchen. An invisible ghost cackled, an evil laugh. Battered pots andpanscoveredthewall.Aswepassed,theyclatteredtothefloor.
Theovendooropenedandclosedbyitself.Theteapotonthestovestartedtowhistle.Dishesontheshelvesrattled.Thecacklinggrewlouder.
“Thisisprettycreepy,”Iwhispered.“Ooh.Thrillsandchills!”Martyrepliedsarcastically.Hecrossedhisarms
infrontofhim.“Bor-ring!”“Marty—givemeabreak.”Ishovedhimaway.“Youcanbeabadsportif
youwant.Butdon’truinitforme.”Thatseemedtogettohim.Hemuttered,“Sorry,”andscootedbacknextto
me.The tram moved out of the dark kitchen, into an even darker hallway.
Paintingsofgoblinsanduglycreatureshungonthehallwaywalls.Asweapproachedaclosetdoor,itsprangopen—andashriekingskeleton
poppedoutinfrontofus,itsjawsopen,itsarmsjuttingouttograbus.Iscreamed.Martylaughed.Theskeletonsnappedbackintothecloset.Thetramturnedacorner.Isaw
flickeringlightupahead.We rode into a large, round room. “It’s the living room,” Iwhispered to
Marty. I raisedmyeyes to the flickering lightandsawachandelieraboveourheads,withadozenburningcandles.
Thetramstoppedbeneath it.Thechandelierbegan toshake.Then,withahiss,thecandlesallflickeredoutatonce.
Theroomplungedintodarkness.Thenadeeplaughechoedallaroundus.Igasped.“Welcometomyhumblehome!”adeepvoicesuddenlyboomed.“Whoisthat?”IwhisperedtoMarty.“Whereisitcomingfrom?”Noreply.
“Hey—Marty?”Iturnedtohim.“Marty—?”Hewasgone.
7
“Marty?”Mybreathcaughtinmythroat.Ifroze,staringintothedarkness.Wheredidhego? I askedmyself.Heknowswearen’t supposed to leave
thetramcar.Didheclimbout?No.Ifhehad,Iwouldhaveheardhim.“Marty?”Someonegrabbedmyarm.Iheardasoftlaugh.Marty’slaugh.“Hey—whereareyou?Ican’tseeyou!”Icried.“I can’t see you, either,” he replied. “But I didn’tmove. I’m still sitting
rightnexttoyou.”“Huh?”Ireachedoutandfeltthesleeveofhisshirt.“This is cool!”Marty declared. “I’mwavingmy arms, but I can’t see a
thing.Youreallycan’tseeme?”“No,”Ireplied.“Ithought—”“It’ssomekindoftrickwiththelights,”hesaid.“Blacklightorsomething.
Somekindofneatmoviespecialeffect.”“Well,itcreepedmeout,”Iconfessed.“Ireallythoughtyoudisappeared.”“Sucker,”hesneered.Andthenwebothjumped.Afiresuddenlyblazedinthebigbrickfireplace.Brightorangelightfilled
theroom.Abigblackarmchairspunaroundtorevealagrinningskeleton.Theskeletonraiseditsbonyyellowedhead.Thejawsmoved.“Ihopeyou
likemyhouse,”itsvoiceboomed.“Becauseyouwillneverleave!”Ittossedbackitsheadandletoutanevilcackle.Thetramjoltedtoastart.Werumbledoutofthelivingroom.Intoalong,
darkhallway.Theskeleton’slaughfollowedusintothehall.Ifellbackagainsttheseataswepickedupspeed.Wewhirredaroundacorner.Downanotherlonghall,sodarkIcouldn’tsee
thewalls.Faster.Faster.
Wewhippedaroundanothercorner.Madeanothersharpturn.Wewereclimbingnow.Andthenwetookasharpdipthatmadebothofus
throwupourhandsandscream.Aroundanothersharpturn.Up,up,up.Andthenwecamecrashingdown.Awildroller-coasterrideintotaldarkness.It was awesome. Even better because we didn’t expect it. Marty and I
screamedourheadsoff.WebumpedhardagainsteachotherasthetramwhirledaroundintheblackhallsofTheHauntedHouseofHorrors.Up,up,again—thenwetiltedsharplydown.
Ihungontothefrontofthecarfordearlife.Igrippeditsohard,bothhandsached.Therewasnoseatbelt,nosafetybar.
Whatifwetumbledout?Iwondered.Thecartiltedsharplysideways,asifreadingmyfrightenedthoughts.Ilet
outashriekandlostmygrip.Islidagainstthesideofthecar.Martyfellontopofme.
Ifranticallyreachedoutforsomethingtoholdonto.Thecartiltedbackrightsideup.Itookadeepbreath,slidbackintoplaceon
thelongseat.“Whoa!Thatwasexcellent!”Martycried,laughing.“Excellent!”Grippingthefrontofthecar,Itookanotherdeepbreathandheldit.Iwas
tryingtoslowmyracingheart.Adoorswungopeninfrontofus,andweburstthroughit.Thecarbouncedhard.Isawtrees.Thegray-foggedsky.We were back outside. Racing through the backyard. Both of us were
tossed from side to side aswe roared over theweeds, zigzagging through thedarktrees.
“Whoa! Stop!” I choked out. I couldn’t catchmy breath. Thewind blewhardagainstmy face.The tramclatteredandsquealedaswebumpedover theroughground.
We were out of control. Something had definitely gone wrong with thetram.
Bouncing hard on the plastic seat, holding on tightly, I searched forsomeonewhocouldhelpus.
Nooneinsight.Webumpedontotheroad.Thetramstartedtoslow.IturnedtoMarty.His
hairwasblownoverhisface.Hismouthhungopen.Hiseyesrolledaroundinhishead.Hewastotallydazed.
Thetramslowed,slowed,slowed,untilwewerecreepingsmoothlyalong.“That was great!”Marty declared. He smoothed back his hair with both
handsandgrinnedatme.Iknewhehadbeenscared,too.Buthewaspretendingthatheenjoyedthecrazy,wildride.
“Yeah.Great.” I tried to pretend, too. Butmy voice came outweak andshaky.
“I’mgoingtotellyourdadthattheroller-coasterridethroughthehallswasthebest!”Martydeclared.
“Itwaskindoffun,”Iagreed.“Andkindofscary.”Martyturnedawayfromme.“Hey.Wherearewe?”Thetramhadcometoastop.Ipulledmyselfupandpeeredaround.Wehad
parked between two rows of tall evergreen bushes. The bushes were slender,shapedlikespearsreachinguptothesky.
Aboveus, theafternoonsunwas trying tobreak through the fog.Raysofpalelightbeameddownfromthegraysky.Thetall,thinshadowsofthebushesfelloverourtramcar.
Martystoodupandturnedtothebackofthetram.“There’snothingaroundhere,”hesaid.“We’reinthemiddleofnowhere.Whydidwestop?”
“Do you think—?” I started. But I stopped talkingwhen I saw the bushmove.
Itwiggled.Thenthebushnexttoitwiggled,too.“Marty—”Iwhispered, tugginghis sleeve. I saw twoglowing redcircles
behindthebush.Twoglowingredeyes!“Marty—there’ssomeonethere.”Anotherpairofeyes.Andthenanotherpairofeyes.Staringoutatusfrom
behindtheevergreenbushes.Andthentwodarkclaws.And then rustling sounds. The bush tilted as a dark figure leaped out.
Followedbyanother.Snarling,growling.Igasped.Toolatetorun.Weweresurroundedbytheuglycreatures.Snuffling,wheezingcreatures,
who staggered out from the bushes. Reaching out, reaching out for us, theybegantoclimbintothetram.
8
MartyandIjumpedtoourfeet.“Ohhhhhh.”IheardMartyletoutafrightenedmoan.Istartedtobackaway.IthoughtmaybeIcouldscrambleouttheotherside
ofthecar.Butthesnarling,growlingmonsterscameatusfrombothsides.“L-leaveusalone!”Istammered.Amonster covered in tangled brown fur opened his jaws to reveal long,
jagged rows of yellow teeth.His hot breath exploded inmy face.He steppedcloser. Then he swiped at me with a fat paw and uttered a menacing roar.“Wouldyoulikeanautograph?”hegrowled.
Igapedathim,mymouthhangingdowntomyknees.“Huh?”“Autographedphoto?”heasked.Heraisedhisfurrypawagain.Hehelda
black-and-whitesnapshotinit.“Hey—you’reApeFace!”Martycried,pointing.Thehairycreaturenoddedhishead.HeraisedthephototoMarty.“Wanta
photo?Thisistheautographingpartofthetour.”“Yeah!Okay,”Martyreplied.Thebigapepulledamarkerfrombehindhisearandbenttosignthephoto
forMarty.Nowthatmyheartbeatwasreturningtonormal,Ibegantorecognizesome
of the other creatures. The guy covered in purple slime was The ToxicWildMan.AndIrecognizedSweetSue,thewalking-talkingbabydollwithrealhairyoucanbrush.SweetSuewasreallyamutantmurdererfromMars.
Thefrog-facedguycoveredfromheadtotoewithpurpleandbrownwartswasTheFabulousFrog,alsoknownasTheToadinator.HestarredinPondScumandPondScumII,twoofthescariestmoviesevermade.
“Frog—canIhaveyourautograph?”Iasked.“Grrrbbit. Grrbit.” He croaked and slipped a pen into his wart-covered
hand.Ileanedforwardeagerlyandwatchedhimsignhisphoto.Itwashardforhimtowrite.Thepenkeptslippinginhisslimyfroghands.
Marty and I collected a bunch of autographs. Then the creatures wentsnarlingandwheezingbackintothebushes.
Whentheyweregone,webothburstoutlaughing.“Thatwassodumb!”Icried.“WhenIsawthemcreepingoutfrombehindthebushes,IthoughtI’dhavea cow!” I glanced down at the photos. “But it’s kind of cool to get theirautographs.”
Martymadeadisgustedface.“It’sjustabunchofactorsincostumes,”hesneered.“It’sforbabies.”
“But—but—they looked so real,” I stammered. “It didn’t look as if theywere wearing costumes—did it? I mean, The Toadinator’s hands were reallyslimy.AndApeFace’sfurwassoreal.Themaskswereawesome.Icouldn’ttelltheyweremasks.”
Ibrushedthehairoutofmyeyes.“Howdotheygetintothosecostumes?Ididn’tseeanybuttonsorzippers,oranything!”
“That’sbecausethey’removiecostumes,”Martyexplained.“They’rebetterthanregularcostumes.”
Mr.Know-It-All.Thetramstartedtobackout.Isettleddownintotheseat.Iwatchedthetwo
rowsofevergreenbushesfadeintothedistance.Down the long, sloping hill, I could see the white studio buildings. I
wonderediftheyweremakingamovieononeofthesoundstages.Iwonderedifthetramwouldtakeustowatchthemshoot.
Icouldseetwogolfcartsmovingalongtheroad.Theywerecarryingpeopledowntothesoundstagebuildings.Thesunstillstruggledtoshinethroughthefog.Thetrambouncedoverthe
grass,upthehill.“Whoa!”Icriedoutasweturnedsharplyandheadedbacktowardthetrees.“Please remain in the car at all times.” A woman’s voice burst from a
speaker in the tram car. “Your next stop will be The Cave of The LivingCreeps.”
“The Cave of The Living Creeps? Wow! That sounds scary!” Martyexclaimed.
“Suredoes!”Iagreed.Wehadnoideajusthowscaryitwouldturnouttobe.
9
Thetramzigzaggeditswaythroughthetrees.Theirshadowsrolledoveruslikedarkghosts.
Wemovedsosilently.Itriedtoimaginewhattheridewouldbelikeifthetramwaspackedwithexcitedkidsandadults. Idecided itwouldbea lot lessscarywithacrowd.
ButIwasn’tcomplaining.MartyandIwerereallyluckytobethefirstkidsevertotryoutthisride.
“Wow!”MartygrabbedmyarmasTheCaveofTheLivingCreepsloomedinfrontofus.Themouthofthecavewasahugedarkhole,cutintothesideofthehill.Icouldseepale,silverylightflickeringpasttheentrance.
The tramsloweddownasweapproached thedarkopening.Asignabovetheentrancehadonewordcarvedroughlyintoit:FAREWELL.
The tramcar lurched forward. “Hey—!” I cried out and duckedmy head.Whatatightsqueeze!
Intothedim,flickeringlight.Theair instantlygrewcolder.Anddamp.Asour,earthysmellrosetomy
nostrils,makingmegasp.“Bats!”Martywhispered.“Whatdoyouthink,Erin?Thinktherearebatsin
here?”Heleanedcloseandletoutanevillaughinmyear.MartyknowsthatIhatebats!Iknow,Iknow.Batsaren’treallyevilcreatures.Andtheyaren’tdangerous.
Bats eat mosquitoes and other insects. And they don’t attack people or gettangledinyourhairortrytosuckyourblood.That’sonlyinmovies.
Iknowallthat.ButIdon’tcare.Batsareuglyandcreepyanddisgusting.AndIhatethem.Oneday,ItoldMartyhowmuchIhatebats.Andsohe’sbeenteasingme
aboutthemeversince.Thetrammoveddeeperintothecave.Theairgrewcolder.Thesouraroma
nearlychokedme.“Look—overthere!”Martyscreamed.“Avampirebat!”“Huh?Where?”Icouldn’thelpmyself.Icriedoutinalarm.OfcourseitwasoneofMarty’sdumbjokes.Helaughedlikeamaniac.
Igrowledathimandpunchedhimhardontheshoulder.“You’renotfunny.You’rejustdumb.”
Thatmadehimgiggleevenharder.“I’llbettherearebatsinthiscave,”heinsisted.“Youcan’tgointoadeep,darkcavelikethisonewithoutseeingbats.”
Iturnedawayfromhisgrinningfaceandlistenedhard.Iwaslisteningforflutteringbatwings.Ididn’thearany.
Thecavenarrowed.Thewallsseemedtocloseinonus.Thesideofthecarscrapedagainstthedirtwall.Icouldfeelthatwewereheadingdown.
In the dim, silvery light, I saw a long row of pointy icicle-type thingshangingdownfromthecaveceiling.Iknowtheyhaveaname,butIcanneverrememberwhichoneitis—stalagmitesorstalactites.
Iduckedmyheadagainasthetramshotunderthem.Upclose,theylookedlikepointedelephanttusks.
“We’regettingclosertothebats!”Martyteased.I ignoredhim. I keptmy eyes straight ahead.The cavegrewwide again.
Darkshadowsshiftedanddancedoverthewallsaswerolledpast.“Ohhh.”IutteredagroanasIfeltsomethingcoldandslimydropontothe
backofmyneck.I jerked away and turned sharply toMarty. “Cut it out!” I snapped. “Get
yourcoldhandsoffme!”“Who—me?”Hewasn’ttouchingme.Bothofhishandsgrippedthefrontofthecar.Then what was on the back of my neck? So cold and wet. Icy wet. I
shuddered.Mywholebodyshook.“M-Marty!”Istammered.“H-help!”Martystaredatme,confused.“Erin—what’syourproblem?”“Thebackofmyneck—”Ichokedout.I could feel the cold, wet thing start to move. I decided not to wait for
Martytohelpme.Ireachedbackandpulleditoff.Itfeltstickyandcoldbetweenmyfingers.
Itslitheredandwriggled,andIdroppeditontheseat.Aworm!Ahuge,longwhiteworm.Socold,sowetandcold.“Weird!”Martyexclaimed.Heleanedclosetoexamineit.“I’veneverseen
awormthatbig!Andit’swhite.”“It—it dropped from the ceiling,” I said, watching it wiggle next tome.
“It’sice-cold.”
“Huh?Letmetouchit,”Martysaid.Heraisedhishandandslowlyloweredhispointerfingertotheworm.
Hisfingerpokedtheworminitsmiddle.And then Marty opened his mouth in a scream of horror that echoed
throughthecave.
10
“Whatisit?Marty—what’swrong?”Ishrieked.“I—I—I—”Hecouldn’tspeak.Hecouldonlyutter,“I—I—I—!”Hiseyes
bulged.Histonguefloppedout.Hereachedupandpulledawhitewormoffthetopofhishead.“I—I—Igot
onetoo!”“Yuck!”Icried.Hiswormwasnearlyaslongasashoelace!Webothtossedourwormsoutofthetram.ButthenIfeltasoft,dampploponmyshoulder.Andthenacoldplopon
topofmyhead.Anotheronmyforehead,likeacoldslap.“Ohhh—help!” I moaned. I started thrashing my arms, grabbing at the
worms,strugglingtopullthemoffme.“Marty—please!”Iturnedtohimforhelp.Buthewasbattling them, too.Twistingandducking.Trying tododge,as
moreandmorewhitewormsfellfromtheceiling.Isawonefallonhisshoulder.Isawanotheronebegintowrapitselfaround
hisear.AsfastasIcould,Ipulledthesticky,wetcreaturesoffmeandtossedthem
overthesideoftheslow-rollingtram.Wherearetheycomingfrom?Iwondered.Iglancedup—andafat,wetonefellovermyeyes.“Yeowwww!”Iletoutashriek,grabbedit,flungitaway.The tram turned sharply, sending us both sliding over the seat. The cave
narrowedagainasweenteredadifferenttunnel.Thesilverylightgloweddimlyaroundusaswebouncedforward.
Two white worms, each at least a foot long, wriggled across my lap. Ituggedthemoffandheavedthemoverthetram.
Breathinghard, I searched formore.Mywholebody itched.Thebackofmynecktingled.Icouldn’tstopshaking.
“Theystoppedfalling,”Martyannouncedinashakyvoice.ThenwhydidIstillitch?I rubbed the back of my neck. Stood up and searched the seat, then the
floor. I found one last worm, climbing over my shoe. I kicked it away, then
droppedbackontotheseatwithaloudsigh.“Thatwastotallygross!”Iwailed.Marty scratchedhischest, then rubbedhis facewithbothhands. “Iguess
that’swhytheycallitTheCaveofTheLivingCreeps,”hesaid.Hesweptahandbackthroughhisblackhair.
Ishivered.Icouldn’tstopitching.Iknewthewormsweregone,butIcouldstillfeelthem.“Thosedisgustingwhiteworms—doyouthinktheywerealive?”
Martyshookhishead.“Ofcoursenot.Theywerefakes.”Hesnickered.“Iguesstheyfooledyou,huh?”
“Theysurefeltreal,”Ireplied.“Andthewaytheywriggledaround—”“They were robots or something,” Marty said, scratching his knees.
“Everythinghereisfake.Ithastobe.”“I’mnotsosure,”Isaid,mywholebodystillitchyandtingling.“Well,justaskyourfather,”Martyrepliedgrumpily.Ihad to laugh. IknewwhyMartywassuddenlysogrouchy.Whether the
wormswererealorfake,theyhadscaredhim.AndheknewthatIknewthathehadbeenfrightened.
“Idon’t think littlekidswill like theworms,”Martysaid.“I think they’llgettooscared.I’mgoingtotellthattoyourdad.”
I started to reply—and felt something drop overme. Something scratchyanddry.
Itcoveredmyface,myshoulders—myentirebody.I shotbothhandsupand tried topush it away. It’s somekindof anet, I
thought.Igrabbedatit,desperatetogetitoffmyface.AsIstruggled,Iturnedand
sawMartysquirmingandbattinghisarms,caughtunderthesamenet.The tram bounced through the dim cave tunnel. The sticky net felt like
cottoncandyonmyskin.Martyletoutayelp.“It—it’sabigspiderweb!”hestammered.I tuggedandgrabbedandpulled.But thestickythreadsclungtomyface,
myarms,andmyclothes.“Yuck!Thisissogross!”Ichokedout.AndthenIsawtheblackdotsscurryingthroughthenet.Ittookmeafew
secondstorealizewhattheywere.Spiders!Hundredsofthem!“Ohhhh.”Alowmoanescapedmythroat.I batted the spiderweb with both hands. I rubbed my cheeks frantically,
trying to scrape away the sticky threads. I pulled a spider off my forehead.AnotheroneofftheshoulderofmyT-shirt.
“Thespiders—they’reinmyhair!”Martywailed.Hesuddenly forgotaboutactingcool.Hebegan rakinghishairwithboth
hands,slappinghimselfinthehead,pinchingandswipingatthespiders.Asthetramrolledsilentlyon,webothtwistedandsquirmed,strugglingto
flickawaytheblackspiders. Ipulled threeof themoutofmyhair.ThenI feltoneclimbintomynose!
Iopenedmymouthinahorrifiedscream—andsneezeditout.Martypluckedaspideroffmyneckandsentitsoaringthroughtheair.The
lastspider.Icouldn’tsee—orfeel—anymore.Webothdroppeddownintheseat,breathinghard.Myheartpoundedinmy
chest. “Still think everything is a fake?” I asked Marty, my voice weak andsmall.
“I—Idon’tknow,”herepliedsoftly.“Thespiderscouldbepuppetsmaybe.Youknow.Radio-controlled.”
“Theywerereal!”Icriedsharply.“Faceit,Marty—theywerereal!ThisisTheCaveofTheLivingCreeps—andtheywereliving!”
Marty’seyesgrewwide.“Youreallythinkso?”Inodded.“Theyhadtoberealspiders.”A smile spread over Marty’s face. “That’s so cool!” he declared. “Real
spiders!Thatistotallycool!”Iletoutalongsighandslumpedlowerintheseat.Ididn’tthinkitwascool
atall.Ithoughtitwascreepyanddisgusting.Theseridesaresupposedtobefake.That’swhatmakesthemfun.Idecided
totellmydadthat thewormsandspidersweretooscary.Heshouldgetridofthembeforethestudiotouropenstothepublic.
I crossed my arms in front of me and kept my eyes straight ahead. Iwondered what we would run into next. I hoped there weren’t any otherdisgustinginsectswaitingtofallonusandclimballoverourfacesandbodies.
“I think I hear the bats!”Marty teased.He leaned close tome, grinning.“Hearthoseflutteringsounds?Giantvampirebats!”
I shoved him back to his side of the seat. I wasn’t in anymood for hisjokingaround.
“When dowe get out of this cave?” I asked impatiently. “This isn’t anyfun.”
“Ithinkit’scool,”Martyrepeated.“Ilikeexploringcaves.”Thenarrowtunnelopenedintoawidecavern.Theceilingappearedtobea
milehigh.Thereweregiantrocksscatteredoverthecavernfloor.Rockspiledonrocks.Rockseverywhere.
Somewhereaheadofus,Iheardwaterdripping.Plunkplunkplunk.Eerie green light glowed from the cavewalls. The tram pulled up to the
backwall—andthenstopped.“Nowwhat?”Iwhispered.MartyandIturnedinourseat,lettingoureyesexplorethehugecavern.All
Icouldseewererocks.Smoothrocks,someround,somesquare.Plunkplunkplunk.Waterdrippedsomewheretoourright.Theairfeltcold
anddamp.“Thisiskindofboring,”Martymurmured.“Whendowegetgoing?”I shrugged. “I don’t know.Why didwe stop here? It’s just a big empty
cave.”Wewaitedforthetramtobackupandtakeusoutofthere.Andwaited.Aminutewentby.Thenanotherfewminutes.Webothturnedaroundandgotuponourknees,peeringtothebackofthe
tram.Nothingmoved.We listened to thesteadydripofwater,echoingoff thehighstonewalls.Noothersound.
Leaningforwardagainsttheseatback,Icuppedmyhandsaroundmymouthandshouted.“Hey—cananybodyhearus?”
Iwaited,listening.Noreply.“Cananybodyhearus?”Itriedagain.“Ithinkwe’restuckhere!”Noreply.Justthesteadydripdripdrip.Iwaited,squintinghardintotheglowofgreenlight.Whywouldn’tthetramgetmoving?Haditbrokendown?Werewereally
stuckhere?IturnedtoMarty.“What’supwiththistram?Doyouthinkwe’re—HEY!”IgaspedasIstaredattheemptyseatbesideme.Ireachedbothhandsout.IgrabbedforMarty.Anotherlightingtrick?Anotheropticalillusion?“Marty?Hey—Marty?”Icroaked.Acoldshiverrolleddownmyback.ThistimeMartywasreallygone.
11
“Marty—?”Ascrapingsoundbesidethetrammademejump.IspunaroundandsawMartygrinningatmefromthecavefloor.“Gotcha.”“You creep!” I shouted. I swungmy fist, but he dodged away, laughing.
“You’reTheLivingCreep!”Icried.“Youdeliberatelytriedtoscareme.”“Itisn’ttoohardajob!”heshotback.Hissmilefaded.“Iclimbeddownto
checkthingsout.”“Butthetrammightstartupanysecond!”Itoldhim.“Youknowwhatthat
tourguidetoldus.Shesaidweshouldneverleavethetram.”Marty squatted down and studied the tires. “I think the tram is stuck or
something.Maybeitcameoffitstracks.”Heraisedhiseyestomeandshookhisheadfretfully.“Buttherearen’tanytracks.”
“Marty—get back in,” I pleaded. “If it starts up and leaves you standingthere—”
Hegrabbed thesideof thecarwithbothhandsandshook it.The tramcarbouncedonitstires.Butitdidn’tmove.
“I think it broke down,” Marty said softly. “Your father said that somethingsmightnotwork.”
I felt a stabof fear inmychest. “Youmeanwe’restrandedhere?Allbyourselvesinthiscreepycave?”
Hestepped to the frontof thecarandsqueezedbetween the tramand thecavewall.Thenhetriedtopushthetramback,shovingwithbothhandsashardashecould.
Itwouldn’tbudge.“Oh,wow,”Imuttered,shakingmyhead.“Thisishorrible.Thisisn’tany
funatall.”Igotbackuponmykneesontheseatandtriedshoutingagain,asloudasI
could:“Isanybodyinhere?Doesanybodyworkhere?Thetramisstuck!”Plunkplunkplunk.Thedrippingwaterwasmyonlyreply.“Cansomebodyhelpus?”Ishouted.“Please—cansomebodyhelp?”Noanswer.“Nowwhat?”Icried.
Martywasstillshovingwithallhismightagainstthefrontofthetram.Hegaveonelasthardpush,thengaveupwithasigh.“You’dbetterclimbdown,”hesaid.“Wehavetowalk.”
“Huh?Walk?Inthiscreepydarkcave?Noway,Marty!”Hecamearoundtomysideofthecar.“You’renotafraid—areyou,Erin?”“Yes, I am,” I confessed. “A little.” Iglancedaround thehugecavern. “I
don’tseeanyexits.We’dhavetowalkbackthroughthosetunnels.Withallthespidersandwormsandeverything.”
“We can find a way out,” Marty insisted. “There’s got to be a doorsomewhere.Theyalwaysbuildemergencyexitsinthesethemeparkrides.”
“Ithinkweshouldstayinthetram,”Isaiduncertainly.“Ifwestayhereandwait,someonewillcomeandfindus.”
“Itcould takedays,”Martydeclared.“Comeon,Erin. I’mgoing towalk.Areyoucomingwithme?”
I shook my head, my arms crossed tightly in front of me. “No way,” Iinsisted.“I’mstayinghere.”
I knew he wouldn’t go off by himself. I knew he wouldn’t go unless Ijoinedhim.
“Well. ’Bye then,” he said.He turned and startedwalkingquickly acrossthecavefloor.
“Hey,Marty—?”“’Bye.I’mnotwaitinghereallday.Seeyoulater.”Hewas really leaving.Leavingme alone in the stalled tram, in the scary
cave.“But,Marty—wait!”He turned back to me. “Are you coming or not, Erin?” he called back
impatiently.“Okay,okay,”Imurmured.IsawthatIhadnochoice.Iclimbedoverthe
sideofthetramanddroppedtothecavefloor.Thedirtwassmoothanddamp.IstartedwalkingslowlytowardMarty.“Hurryitup,”hecalled.“Let’sgetoutofhere.”Hewaswalkingbackward
now,motioningformetocatchuptohim.ButIstoppedandmymouthdroppedopeninhorror.“Don’tlookatmelikethat!”heshouted.“Don’tstareatmeasifI’mdoing
somethingwrong!”ButIwasn’tstaringatMarty.IwasstaringatthethingcreepingupbehindMarty.
12
“Uh…uh…uh…”IstruggledtowarnMarty,butonlyfrightenedgruntsescapedmythroat.
Hekeptbackingup,backingrightintotheenormouscreature.“Erin,getamoveon.What’syourproblem?”hedemanded.“Uh…uh…uh…”Ifinallymanagedtopoint.“Huh?”Marty spun around—and saw it, too. “Whoa!” he screamed.His
sneakersslidonthesoftcavefloorashecamerunningbacktome.“Whatisthatthing?”
Atfirst,Ithoughtitwassomekindofmachine.Itlookedlikeoneofthosetallsteelcranesyouseeonconstructionsites.Allsilveryandmetallic.
Butasitroseuponitswire-thinbacklegs,Isawthatitwasalive!It had roundblack eyes the size of billiard balls.They spunwildly in its
skinny silver skull. Two slender antennae bobbed at the top of the head. Itsmouth appeared soft, mushy. A gray tongue darted out between long, bristlywhiskers.
Itslongbodystretchedbacklikeafolded-upleaf.Asitstood,itwaveditsfrontlegs,shortwhitesticks.
Thewhole creature looked like some kind of gross stick figure. Its longbacklegsbentandsprangforward,bentthensprangforward.Thethicktongueswungfromsidetoside.Theblackeyesstoppedwhirlingandfocusedonme.
“Isit—isitagrasshopper?”Ichokedout.MartyandIhadbothbackeduptothetram.Waving its stick arms, the creature sprang closer, its antennae circling
slowlyontopofitshead.Marty and I pressed our backs against the cold cave wall. We couldn’t
movebackanyfarther.“I think it’s a prayingmantis,”Marty replied, staring up at it.The insect
hadtobeatleastthreetimesastallasus.Asitmovedforward,itsheadnearlyscrapedthecaveceiling.
The tongue licked its soft,mushymouth.Themouth puckered andmadeloudsuckingsounds.Mystomachlurched.Thesoundwassosick!
The round black eyes stared down at Marty and me. The giant praying
mantis,itsbodyshininglikealuminum,tookanotherhoppingsteptowardus.Itstartedtoloweritshead.
“Wh-what’s it going todo?” I stammered,pressingmybackhardagainstthecavewall.
Tomysurprise,Martysuddenlystartedtolaugh.Iturnedtohimandgrabbedhisshoulder.Washetotallylosingit?“Marty—areyouokay?”“Ofcourse!”he replied.Hepulledaway frommeand tooka step toward
the towering insect. “Why should we be scared, Erin? It’s a big robot. It’sprogrammedtowalkuptothetram.”
“Huh?But,Marty—”“It’s all on a computer,”he continued, staringupas thebigheadbobbed
loweronitsstickbody.“Itisn’treal.It’spartoftheride.”Istaredupatthecreature.Bigdropsofsalivarolledoffitsfattongueand
hitthecavefloorwithasplat.“It’s…uh…reallylifelike,”Imurmured.“Yourdadisageniusatthisstuff!”Martydeclared.“We’llhavetotellhim
whatagoodjobhedidontheprayingmantis.”Helaughed.“Yourdadsaidtherewerestillsomebugs,remember?Thismustbeoneofthem!”
Theinsectrubbeditsfrontlegstogether.Itmadeashrillwhistlingsound.Icoveredmyears.Thehigh-pitchednotemademyearsache!Iwas still holdingmy ears as a second giant prayingmantis hopped out
frombehindatallrock.“Look—another one!”Marty cried, pointing.He tuggedmy arm. “Wow.
Theymovesosmoothly.Youcan’teventellthatthey’remachines.”The two silvery insects chittered at each other, a sharp shrill, metallic
sound.Theirblackeyestwirled.Theirantennaerotatedrapidly,excitedly.Gobs of saliva rolled off their tongues and splattered to the floor. The
secondoneflashedsilverywingsonitsback,thenquicklyclosedthemupagain.“Great-lookingrobots!”Martydeclared.Heturnedtome.“We’dbetterget
back in the tram. It’llprobably startupagainnow thatwe’ve seen thesegiantbugs.”
Thetwoinsectschitteredtoeachother.Theyhoppedcloser,theirsticklikelegsspringinghard,bouncingoffthesmoothcavefloor.
“Ihopeyou’reright,”ItoldMarty.“Thoseinsectsaretooreal.Iwanttogetoutofhere!”
Istartedtofollowhimtothetramcar.
Thefirstmantisleapedforwardquickly.Ithoppedbetweenusandthetram,blockingourpath.
“Hey—!”Icried.Wetriedtosteparoundit.Butittookabighoptostayinfrontofus.“It—itwon’tletuspass!”Istammered.“Ohhh!”Icriedoutasthebigcreaturesuddenlyswungdownandslammed
itsheadagainstmychest.Thepowerfulhead-buttsentmesprawlingbackward.“Hey—stopthat!”IheardMartyshout.“Thatmachinemustbebroken!”Its black eyes glowing, themantis lowered its head again—and gaveme
anotherhardpushtowardthecenterofthecave.ItspartnermovedquicklytotrapMarty.Itlowereditsbodyandpreparedto
head-buttMarty.ButMartyquicklybackedaway, raisinghishands infrontofhimlikeashield.Hehurriedtojoinme.
Iheardscrapingsounds.Shrillchirpsandchittering.Ispunaroundtodiscovertwomorehuge,uglymantisesclimbingoutfrom
behind rocks.Then twomore, their antennae twistingexcitedly.Their fatgraytonguesrollingaroundtheiropenmouths.
Martyand Ihuddled together in themiddleof thecavernas thecreatureshoppedandscrapedaroundus.Thentheyroseuphighontheirhindlegs,theirblackeyesgleaming,theirshortstickarmswaving.
“We—we’resurrounded!”Icried.
13
The giant insects all began chittering at once. They scraped their front legstogetherexcitedly.Theshrillwhistlerosethroughthecave,echoingoffthestonewalls.
They formed a circle around us, leaning back on their spindly hind legs.Moving closer. Tightening the circle. Their tongues whipped back and forth.Thickgobsofmantissalivahitthefloor.
“They’reoutofcontrol!”Martyshrieked.“Whataretheygoingtodotous?”Icried,coveringmyearsagainst their
excitedchirpsandthedeafeningwhistle.“Maybetheyarevoice-controlled,”Martyshouted.Hetiltedbackhishead
andshoutedupatthem:“Stop!Stop!”Theydidn’tstop.Oneofthemtilteditssilveryhead,openeditsuglymouthwide,andspitout
ablackgob.ItsplatteredontoMarty’ssneaker.Hejumpedback.Hissneakerstucktothefloor.He struggled to tug it free. “Yuck!Watchout!Thatblack stuff—it’s like
glue!”hecried.THOOOM.Another mantis opened its mouth wide and spit out a big black gob of
stickygoo.ItsplotchedtheshoulderofmyT-shirt.“Oww!”Iwailed.Itwassohot—itburnedmerightthroughmyshirt.The others chittered shrilly and scraped their hairy stick arms. Their
tonguesdartingbackandforth,theybegantolowertheirheadstous.“Thestunguns!”Icried,grabbingMarty’sarm.“Maybethegunswillwork
againstthesebugs!”“Thosegunsareonlytoys!”hewailed.THUPPP.AnotherblackgobmissedMarty’sfootbyinches.“Besides,thegunsareinthetram,”Martycontinued,staringupattheugly
creatures.“Nowaythey’llletusgettothetram.”“Thenwhatarewegoingtodo?”Icried.AsIaskedthequestion,anideaflashedintomymind.
“Marty—”Iwhispered.“Howdoyounormallygetridofbugs?”“Huh?Erin—whatareyoutalkingabout?”“Yousteponthem—right?Don’tyouusuallysteponthem?”“But,Erin—”heprotested.“Thesebugsarebigenoughtosteponus!”“It’sworthatry!”Icried.I raisedmy sneaker—and tromped as hard as I could on the foot of the
nearestmantis.Thegiantinsectletoutashrillhissandhoppedbackward.Beside me, Marty stomped on another insect, bringing the heel of his
sneaker downhard on its spindly foot. That creature fell back, too, raising itsheadinashrillhissofpain.Itseyesspunwildly.Itsantennaeshotstraightup.
I stompeddownhardagain.Withahoarsechokingsound, thebigmantisfellontoitsside.Allfoursticklegsthrashedtheair.
“Let’sgo!”Ishouted.Iturnedandburstthroughthecircleofinsects.Ididn’tknowwheretorun.
IonlyknewIhadtogetaway.Thecaveeruptedinhissesandshrillwhistles,angryclutteringandcroaks.I
glimpsedMartylurchingafterme.Iignoredtheechoing,ringingsoundsandran.Rantothetram.Leanedoverthesideandgrabbedbothplasticstungunsintomyarms.ThenIpushedawayfromthetramandhurtledalongthestonecavewall.WherecouldIgo?HowcouldIescape?Theclutteringandhissinggrew louder,more frantic.The tall shadowsof
thegiantinsectsdancedonthewallasIran.Ihadthefeelingthattheshadowscouldreachoutandgrabme.
Iglancedback.Martycamerunningbehindmeatfullspeed.Themantiseswerehopping, scrabbling, limpingacross thedirt floorafter
us.Wheretorun?Where?AndthenIsawthenarrowopeninginthecavewall.Justacrack,really.But I dove for it. Slipped into it. Squeezed myself into the dark hole
betweenthestone.Andburstouttheotherside.Intothemistydaylight.Outside!
Icouldseetreestiltingdownthehill.Theroadthatleddowntothestudiobuildings.
Yes!Outside!Imadeit!Ifeltsohappy.Sosafe.ButIdidn’thavelongtoenjoythefeeling.AsIstartedtocatchmybreath,IheardMarty’sterrifiedcry:“Erin—help!
Help!Theygotme!They’reeatingme!”
14
Withagasp,Ispunaround.HowcouldIhelpMarty?HowcouldIgethimoutofthecave?Tomysurprise,hewasleaningagainstthecavewall,oneelbowagainstthe
rock,hislegscrossed.Abiggrinonhisroundface.“AprilFools,”hesaid.“YAAAIIIII!” I let out an angry scream. Then I dropped the two plastic
pistols and rushed at him, ready to pound himwithmy fists. “You jerk!Youscaredmetodeath!”
HelaughedanddodgedtothesideasIcameathim.Iswungmyfistandhitair.
“Don’t play any more dumb jokes like that!” I cried breathlessly. “Thisplaceistooscary!Thosebiginsects—”
“Yeah.Theywerescary,”heagreed,hissmilefading.“Theyweresoreal!Howdoyouthinktheymadethemspitlikethat?”
Ishookmyhead.“Idon’tknow,”Imuttered.Ihadaheavyfeelinginmystomach.Iknewitwasacrazyidea.ButIwas
beginningtothinkthesecreatureswewereseeingwerereal.MaybeI’veseentoomanyscarymovies.Butthebigprayingmantisesand
thewhiteworms and all the other creatures andmonsters really seemed to bealive.
Theydidn’tmovelikemechanicalcreatures.Theyappearedtobreathe.AndtheireyesfocusedonMartyandmeasiftheycouldreallyseeus.
IwantedtotellMartywhatIwasthinking.ButIknewhewouldonlylaughatme.
He was so sure that they were all robots and that we were seeing someawesomemoviespecialeffects.Ofcourse,thatmadesense.Wewereonamoviestudiotour,afterall.
IhopedMartywasright.Ihopeditwasalltricks.Moviemagic.Mydadwasageniuswhenitcametodesigningmechanicalcreaturesand
buildingthemeparkrides.Andmaybethat’sallwewereseeing.MaybeDadhadreallyoutdonehimselfthistime.
But theheavyfeeling inmystomachwouldn’tgoaway. Ihad thefeeling
thatwewereindanger.Realdanger.Ihadthefeelingthatsomethinghadgonewronghere.Thatsomethingwas
outofcontrol.Isuddenlywishedweweren’tthefirsttwokidstotryoutthetour.Iknewit
wassupposed tobea thrill tobe theonlyoneshere.But itwas tooquiet.Tooempty.Too scary. Itwould be somuchmore fun if hundreds of other peoplewerealongwithus.
IwantedtotellMartyallthis.ButhowcouldI?Hewassoeagertoprovethathewasbraverthanme.Soeagertoprovethat
hewasn’tafraidofanything.Icouldn’ttellhimwhatIwasreallythinking.Ipickedupthetwoplasticstungunsandhandedhimone.Ididn’twantto
carrythemboth.He tucked the barrel of his gun into his jeans pocket. “Hey, Erin—look
whereweare!”hecried.Hejoggedpastme,hiseyesstraightahead.“Checkitout!”
He started running across the grass. I turned and started to followhim. Ididn’twanthimtogettoofarahead.
Theskyhaddarkened.Thesunhaddisappearedbehindaheavyblanketofclouds.Wispsofgrayfoghunglowinthecoolair.Itwasnearlyevening.
Wecrossedtheroadandsteppedintoatown.Imean,itwasamoviesetofa town. A small town with low, one-and two-story buildings, small shops, acountry-lookinggeneralstore.Big,oldhousesintheblockbeyondthestores.
“Doyouthinkthisisasettheyreallyuseinthemovies?”Iasked,hurryingtocatchuptoMarty.
He turned to me, his dark eyes flashing with excitement. “Don’t yourecognizeit?Don’tyouknowwhereyouare?”
And thenmy eyes fell on the crumbling, oldmansion half-hidden by thetwistedtrees.Andacrossfromit,Isawthecrookedpicketfencethatranaroundtheoldcemetery.
AndIknewwewereonShockStreet.“Wow!”Iexclaimed,spinningaround,tryingtotakeitallinatonce.“This
reallyisShockStreet.Thisiswheretheyfilmedallofthemovies!”“Itdoesn’tlookthewayIimaginedit,”Martysaid.“Itlooksevenscarier!”Hewasright.As theskydarkened toevening, longshadowsfellover the
emptybuildings.Thewindmadeamoaningsoundasitsweptaroundthecorner.Marty and Imade ourway down the street, trying to seeeverything.We
keptcrossingfromsidetoside,peeringintoadark,dust-coveredshopwindow
—thenrunningtoexaminethefrontyardofarundown,oldmansion.“Check out that empty lot,” I said, pointing. “That’s where The Mad
Mangler hung out. Remember? In Shocker III? Remember—he mangledeveryonewhowalkedby?”
“Of course I remember,”Marty snapped. He stepped into the empty lot.Tallweedsbent low,blownbythemoaningwind.Shadowsmovedagainst thefenceattheback.
I stayed on the sidewalk and squinted hard, trying to see what cast theshadows.
DidTheMadManglerstilllurkbackthere?Thelotwastotallyempty.Sohowcouldtherebetall,shiftingshadowson
thefence?“Marty—comeback,”Ipleaded.“It’sgettingdark.”Heturnedback.“Scared,Erin?”“It’sjustanemptylot,”Itoldhim.“Let’skeepwalking.”“Peoplealways thought itwas justanempty lot,”Marty replied ina low,
scaryvoice.“UntilTheMadManglerjumpedoutandmangledthem!”Heletoutalong,evillaugh.
“Marty—you’relosingit,”Imurmured,shakingmyhead.Hecametrottingoutof the lot,andwecrossedthestreet.“IwishIhada
camera,”hesaid.“I’dreallylikeapictureofmestandinginTheMangler’slot.”Hiseyeslitup.“Orevenbetter—!”
Hedidn’tfinishhissentence.Instead,hetookoff,runningfullspeed.“Hey—waitup!”Icried.Afewsecondslater,Isawwherehewasheaded.Theoldcemetery.Heranuptothecrackedandpeelingwoodengateandturnedbacktome.
“Even better, I’d like a photo ofme standing in the cemetery. The actual setwheretheyfilmedCemeteryonShockStreet.”
“Wedon’thaveacamera,”Icalledfromthestreet.“Getawayfromthere.”He ignoredmeandstarted toopen thegate.Thebottomwasstuck in the
grass.Marty tugged hard. Finally, the gate started to pull open, creaking andgroaningasitmoved.
“Marty—let’sgo,”Iinsisted.“It’sgettinglate.Dadisprobablywaitingforus,wonderingwhathappenedtous.”
“But this ispartof the tour!”he insisted.He tugged theheavygateopenjustwideenoughtosqueezeinsidethecemetery.
“Marty—please!Don’tgoin!”Ibegged.Iranupbesidehim.
“Erin,it’sjustamovieset,”hereplied.“Youdidn’tusedtobesuchatotalwimp!”
“I—I just have abad feeling about this cemetery,” I stammered. “Averybadfeeling.”
“It’spartofthetour,”herepeated.“Butthisgatewasclosed!”Icried.“Itwasclosedsothatpeopledon’tgo
in.” I raisedmyeyes to thecemetery. I saw theoldgraves tiltingup from thegroundlikecrookedteeth.“Ihavesuchabadfeeling…”
Martyignoredme.Hetuggedthegateopenalittlewiderandslippedintothecemetery.
“Marty—please—!” I gripped the low fence tightly with both hands andwatchedhim.
Hetookthreestepstowardtheoldgraves.Thenhishandsshotstraightupintheair—andhedroppedoutofsight.
15
Istaredintothedarkness,blinkinghard.Iswallowed.Once.Twice.Icouldn’tbelievethathewasgone,thathehadvanishedsoquickly.Thewindmoanedbetweenthejagged,tiltinggravestones.“Marty—?”Myvoicecameoutinachokedwhisper.“Marty?”Igrippedthepicketfencesohard,myhandsached.IknewIhadnochoice.
Ihadtogointhereandseewhathadhappenedtohim.I tookadeepbreathandpushedmyself through theopening.Theground
wassoft.Mysneakerssankintothetallgrass.Itookonestep.Thenanother.IstoppedwhenIheardMarty’svoice.“Hey—becareful.”“Huh?”Igazedaround.“Whereareyou?”“Downhere.”Ipeereddown—intoadeep,darkhole.Anopengrave.Martystaredupat
me.HehaddirtonhischeeksanddownthefrontofhisT-shirt.Heraisedbothhands.“Helpmeout.Ifell!”
Ihadtolaugh.Helookedridiculous,standinginthathole,coveredindirt.“It’snotfunny.Helpmeout,”herepeatedimpatiently.“Iwarnedyou,”Isaid.“Ihadabadfeeling.”“Itsmellsdownhere,”Martycomplained.Ileaneddown.“Whatdoesitsmelllike?”“Likedirt.Getmeout!”“Okay,okay.”Igrabbedhishandsandtugged.Hekickedhisfeet,digging
histoesofhissneakersintothesoftdirt.A few seconds later, he was back on the ground, frantically brushing
himself off. “Thatwas cool!” he declared. “Now I can tell people Iwas in agraveinTheShockStreetCemetery.”
Achillrandownmybackasthewindpickedup.“Let’sgetoutofhere,”Ipleaded.
Something gray floated silently between two old gravestones. A wisp offog?Agraycat?
“Check out these graves,” Marty said, still brushing dirt off his jeans.“They’reallcrackedandfaded.Icanbarelyreadthenames.That’ssocool.Andlookhowtheysprayedcobwebsoverthatrowofstones.Creepy,huh?”
“Marty—canwego?” I begged again. “Dad is probablyworriedbynow.Maybethetramstartedupagain.Maybewecanfindit.”
Heignoredme.Iwatchedhimleanoveratombstonetoreadthewordscutinto it. “Jim Socks,” he read. “Eighteen forty to eighteen eighty-seven.” Helaughed. “JimSocks.Get it?And look at the ones next to it. BenDover. SidUpp.Theseareallfunny!”
Ilaughed.BenDoverandSidUppwereprettyfunny.My laugh was cut short when I heard a soft cry from the back of the
graveyard.Isawanothergraywispdartbehindatombstone.I held my breath and listened hard. The wind whistled through the tall
grass.Risingabovethewindcameanothershrillcry.Acat?Iwondered.Isthecemeteryfilledwithcats?Orisitachild?Martyheardit,too.Hemoveddowntherowofstonesuntilhestoodbeside
me.Hisdarkeyesglowedexcitedly. “This is so cool.Didyouhear the soundeffects?Theremustbeaspeakerhiddenintheground.”
Anothershrillcry.Definitelyhuman.Agirl?I shivered. “Marty, I really think we should try to get back to my dad.
We’vebeenhereallafternoon.And—”“But what about the rest of the tour?” he argued. “We have to see
everything!”Iheardanothercry.Louder.Closer.Acryofterror.I tried to ignore it.Martywasprobablyright.Thecrieshad tobecoming
fromaloudspeakersomewhere.“Howcanwefinishthetour?”Idemanded.“Weweresupposedtostayon
thetram—remember?Butthetram—OHH!”Icriedoutasahandshotupfromthegroundinfrontofus.Agreenhand.
Itslongfingersunfolded,asifreachingforus.“Whoa!”Martycried,stumblingback.Anothergreenhandshotupfromthedirt.Thentwomore.Handsreachingupfromgraves.Iletoutafrightenedgasp.Handswereburstingupthroughthegrass.Hands
allaroundus.Theirfingerstwistingandarching,reachingout.
Martystartedtolaugh.“Thisistotallyawesome!Justlikeinthemovie!”Hestoppedlaughingasahandpokedupbesidehimandgrabbedhisankle.
“Erin—help!”hecried.ButIcouldn’thelp.Two green hands had wrapped around my ankles and were pulling me
down,downintothegrave.
16
“Come dowwwwwnnnnn,” a soft voice moaned. “Come dowwwwwnnnn withus.”
“Nooo!”Ishrieked.My arms thrashed the air. I tried to kick, but the hands gripped me so
tightly,sofirmly.Mywholebodyfrantically jerkedandtiltedbackandforth,asIstruggled
not to fall. If I fell, I knew they would grab my hands, too. And pull mefacedownintotheearth.
“Comedowwwwwwwnnnnnnn.Comedowwwwwnnnnwithus.”Thisisn’tajoke,Ithought.Thesehandsarereal.Theyarereallytryingto
pullmeunderground.“Help!Oh,help!”IheardMarty’scry.ThenIsawhimfall.Hetoppledto
thegrass,ontohisknees.Twohandsgrippedhisankles.Twomoregreenhandspokedup from the
dirttograbhiswrists.“Come dowwwwwwwnnnnnnn. Come dowwwwwnnnn with us,” the sad
voicemoaned.“Noooo!”Ishrieked,tuggingwildly,desperately.Tomysurprise,Ipulledfree.Onefootsankintothesoftgrass.Iglanceddown.Mysneakerhadslidoff.
Thehandstillgrippedthesneaker—butmyfootwasfree.Withahappycry,Ibentdown.Pulledofftheothersneaker.Iwasfreenow.Free!Breathinghard,Ibentandquicklypulledoffmysocks.Iknewitwouldbe
easiertorunbarefoot.Itossedthesocksaway.ThenIhurriedovertoMarty.He was flat on his stomach. Six hands held him down, tugging at him,
tugginghard.Hiswholebodytwistedandshook.Heraisedhisheadwhenhesawme.“Erin—helpme!”hegasped.Idroppedtomyknees.Reachedforhissneakers.Tuggedthemoff.Thegreenhandsgrippedthesneakerstightly.Martykickedhisfeetfreeand
triedtoclimbtohisknees.Igrabbedagreenhandandpulledifoffhiswrist.Thehandslappedatme.
Acold,hardslapthatmademyhandringwithpain.Ignoringit,Igrabbedforanothergreenhand.Martyrolledover.Rolledfree.Jumpedtohisfeet,gasping, trembling,his
mouthhangingopen,hisdarkeyesbulging.“Yoursocks—”Icriedbreathlessly.“Pullthemoff!Hurry!”Heclumsilytorethemoffhisfeet.Thehandsgrabbedwildly forus.Dozensofhandsstretchingup from the
dirt.Hundredsofhandsreachingupforusfromthetallgraveyardgrass.“Come dowwwwwwwnnnnnnn.Come dowwwwwnnnnwith us,” the voice
moaned.“Comedowwwwurwwnnnnnnn.Comedowwwwwnnnn,”adozenothersoft
voicescalledfrombeneaththeground.MartyandI froze.Thesoft, sadvoicesseemed tohypnotizeme.My legs
suddenlyfeltasiftheyweremadeofstone.“Comedowwwwurwwnnnnnnn.Comedowwwwwnnnn.”AndthenIsawagreenheadpopupfromthedirt.Andthenanotherhead.
Another.Baldgreenheadswithemptyeyesocketsandopen,toothlessmouths.I saw shoulders, then arms. More heads poking up. Bright-green bodies
pullingupfrombeneaththeground.“M-Marty—”Ichokedout.“They’recomingupafterus!”
17
Thecemeteryrangoutwithgruntsandgroansas theuglygreenfigurespulledthemselvesupfromtheground.
Itookonelastglanceattheirtattered,shreddedclothing,attheirblackenedeyesockets,theirtoothless,grinningmouths.
AndthenIstartedtorun.MartyandIbothranwithoutsayingaword.Sidebyside,wedartedacross
thetallgrassbetweentherowsofcrookedtombstones.Myheart thuddedinmychest.Myheadthrobbed.Mybarefeetsankinto
thecolddirt,slippedonthetall,dampgrass.Marty reached thewoodengate first.Hewas running sohard, hebanged
intothefence.Heletoutacry—thenslippedthroughthegateontoShockStreet.I could hear moans and groans and eerie calls of the disgusting green
peoplebehindme.ButIdidn’tlookback.Idoveforthegate.Squeezedthrough.ThenIshoveditshutbehindme.
Running into the street, I stopped to catch my breath. I bent over andpressedmy hands against my knees.My side ached. I sucked in breath afterbreath.
“Don’tstop!”Martycriedfrantically.“Erin—keepgoing!”I took a deep breath and followed him down the street. Our bare feet
slappedthepavement.I could still hear themoans and calls behind us.But Iwas too scared to
glanceback.“Marty—whereiseverybody?”Icalledbreathlessly.ShockStreetwasempty,thehousesandshopsalldark.Shouldn’ttherebepeoplearound?Iwondered.Thisisabigmoviestudio.
WherearethepeoplewhoworkforShockerStudios?Wherearethepeoplewhoworkonthestudiotour?
Whyisn’tanyonearoundtohelpus?“Somethingiswrong!”Martychokedout,runningatfullspeed.Wepassed
TheHorrorHardwareStoreandShockCityElectronics.“Therobotsareoutofcontrolorsomething!”
At last! Marty agreed with me. He finally agreed that something was
terriblywrong.“We’vegot tofindyourdad,”Martysaid,runningacross thestreet to the
nextblockofdarkhouses.“We’vegottotellhimthere’saproblem.”“Wehavetofindthetram,”Icalled,strugglingtokeepupwithhim.“Ow!”My bare foot came down on something hard.A rock or something. Pain
shotupmyleg.ButIhobbledon.“Ifwecangetbackonthetram,itwilltakeusbacktoDad,”Icalled.“TherehastobeawayoutofShockStreet,”Martysaid.“It’sonlyamovie
set.”Weranpastatallmansionwithtwoturrets.Itlookedlikeanevilcastle.I
didn’trememberitfromanyoftheShockermovies.Beyondthemansionstretchedabig,emptydirt lot.At thebackof the lot
stoodalowbrickwall,justafootortwotallerthanMartyandme.“Cutthroughhere!”ItoldMarty.“Ifwecanclimbuponthatwall,wecan
probablyseethestudioroad.”Iwasjustguessing.Butitwasworthatry.Webothturnedintotheemptylot.Mybarefeetthuddedoverthesoftdirt.Thedirt feltcoldandwet.Aswecrossed thefield,ourfeet tossedupbig
clumpsofmud.Ipumpedmylegsharderasthemudgrewsofter.Mybarefeetweresinking
intoit.AsIran,thecoldmudroseupovermyankles.MartyandIwerenearlytothebrickwallwhenweranintothesinkhole.“Yaaaaaiiii!”Webothutteredhoarsecriesasthegroundgavewaybeneath
us.Themudmadeasicksplusssshaswesank.Itossedupbothhands.Triedtograbontosomething.Buttherewasnothingtograb.Themudoozedaroundme.Overmyankles.Mylegs.Upovermyknees.It’ssuckingmedown,Ithought.Itriedtocryoutagain—butpanicchoked
mythroat.IglimpsedMartybesideme.Hisarmswerewavingwildly.Hiswholebody
twistedandsquirmedashesank.Themudwasupoverhiswaist—andhewasstillsinkingfast.
Ikickedhard.Triedtoraisemyknees.But Iwas trapped.Trapped and dropping down, down into the dark,wet
ooze.
Mymud-coveredarmsslappedagainstthesurface.Icouldn’tstopmyself.Themudbubbledupovermyneck.AndIwassinkingfast.
18
Iheldmybreath.Themudroseuptomychin.Inasecond,itwillbeovermyhead,Ithought.Asobescapedmythroat.Themudcrepthigher,upovermychin. I started tospitas it reachedmy
mouth.And then I felt something grabmy arm. Strong hands slipped undermy
arms.Ifeltthehandsslideinthemud.Theygrippedmeharder.Ifeltmyselfbeingtuggedup,tuggedbysomeoneverystrong.ThemudmadealoudplopasIroseup.Ifeltthemudrolldownmychest,
mylegs,myknees.And then I was standing on the surface, still held by the two powerful
hands.“Marty—!”Icalled,tastingthesourmudonmylips.“Areyou—?”“I’mup!”Iheardhishoarsereply.“Erin,I’mokay!”Thestronghandsfinallyletgo.Mylegstrembled.Iwobbledbutremained
standing.Iturnedtoseewhohadrescuedme.Andstaredintotheglowingredeyesofawolf.A humanwith the face of awolf.Clawed hands covered in black fur.A
long,brownsnoutcurved inanopen, toothygrin.Sharp,pointedearsaboveathicktuftofblackwolffur.
Afemale.Sheworeasilverycatsuit.Sleekandtight-fitting.AsIstaredinshock,sheopenedhermouthinathroatygrowl.
Irecognizedheratonce.WolfGirl!Iturnedtoseehercompanion—WolfBoy.HehadpulledMartyoutofthe
mudhole.Marty’swholebodywascakedinmud.Hetriedtowipehisface,butonlymanagedtosmearmoremudoverhischeeks.
“You—savedus!Thankyou!”Icried,finallyfindingmyvoice.Thetwowerewolvesutteredlowgrowlsinreply.“We—welost the tram,”Iexplained toWolfGirl.“Weneed togetback.
Youknow.Backtowheretheridebegan.”
Sheletoutasharpgrowl.Thenshesnappedhertoothyjawhard.“Please—” Ibegged. “Canyouhelpusgetback to the tram?Orcanyou
takeustothemainbuilding?Mydadiswaitingformethere.”WolfGirl’sredeyesflashed.Shegrowledagain.“We know you’re just actors!”Marty blurted out shrilly. “But we don’t
wanttobescaredanymore.We’vehadenoughscaresfortoday.Okay?”The twowerewolves growled.A longwhite string of saliva drooled over
WolfBoy’sblacklips.Somethinginsidemesnapped.Itotallylostit.“Stopit!”Iscreamed.“Just
stopit!Martyisright!Wedon’twanttobescarednow.Sostopthewerewolfact—andhelpus!”
Thewerewolvesgrowledagain.WolfGirl snappedher jaws.A longpinktongueslidout,andshelickedherjaggedteethhungrily.
“That’senough!”Ishrieked.“Stoptheact!Stopit!Stopit!”Iwassoangry,sofurious—Ireachedupwithbothhands.Igrabbedthefur
onthesidesofWolfGirl’smask.AndItuggedthemaskwithallmystrength.Tugged.TuggedwithbothhandsashardasIcould.Andfeltrealfur.Andwarmskin.Itwasn’tamask.
19
“Ohh.”Iletoutagasp,andjerkedmyhandsaway.The werewolf’s red eyes glowed. Her black lips parted. Once again, her
tongueflickedhungrilyoverheryellow,pointedteeth.MywholebodytrembledasIbackedupagainstthebrickwall.“M-Marty
—”Istammered.“It’snotanact.”“Huh?”MartystoodstifflyinfrontofWolfBoy,hisdarkeyeswideinhis
mud-cakedface.“They’renotactors,”Iwhispered.“Somethingiswronghere.Somethingis
terriblywrong.”Marty’smouthdroppedopen.Hetookastepback.Both werewolves uttered low growls. They lowered their heads as if
preparingtoattack.“Doyoubelieveme?”Icried.“Doyoufinallybelieveme?”Martynodded.Hedidn’tsayaword.Ithinkhewastooterrifiedtotalk.Salivapouredfromthewerewolves’mouths.Theireyesglowedlikefirein
thedarkness.Their furrychestsbegan toheave inandout.Theirbreathscameloudandhoarse.
I jumpedbackagainst thewallasbothwerewolvesraised theirheadsandletoutlong,frighteninghowls.
Whatweretheygoingtodotous?IgrabbedMartyandtuggedhimtothewall.“Up!”Icried.“Getup!Maybe
theycan’treachusupthere!”Martyleapedhigh,stretchinguphisarms.Hishandsslappedthetopofthe
wall,thenslidbackdown.Hetriedagain.Hebenthisknees.Jumped.Grabbedforthetopofthewall.Slippedbackdown.
“Ican’t!”hewailed.“It’stoohigh.”“We’vegotto!”Ishrieked.Iturnedbackandsawthetwowerewolvesleanbackontheirhindlegsand
then spring up. They were snarling and growling now, thick gobs of salivarunningovertheirsnappingteeth.
“Up!”Icried.AsMartyleapedforthewallagain,Ireacheddownandgrabbedhismuddy
foot.“Up!”Igavehimahardboost.Hishandsthrashedtheair.Caughtthetopofthebrickwall.Heldon.Hisbarefeetkickedtheair.Butheheldonandtuggedhimselfup.Onhiskneesontopofthewall,heturnedandgrabbedmyhands.Hepulled
andIjumped.Istruggledtoscrambleupbesidehim.ButIcouldn’tgetmykneesup.Couldn’tgetthemontothewall.Mybarefeetthrashedwildly.MykneesscrapedagainstthewallasMarty
tugged.“Ican’tdoit!Ican’t!”Igasped.Thewerewolveshowledagain.“Keeptrying!”Martychokedout.Hetuggedmyarms.Tuggedwithallhis
strength.Iwasstillstrugglingasthetwowerewolvesleaped.
20
Iheardthesnapofjaws.Ifelthotbreathonthebottomofmyfoot.Thetwowerewolvesthuddedagainstthewall.Withadesperatecry,Isprangtothetop.Gaspingforair,Ipressedmyself
flatagainstthebricks.I raisedmy head in time to see the two snarlingwerewolves leap again.
Jawssnappedinfrontofmyface.Redeyesgleamedhungrilyatme.“No!”Withacry,Iscrambledtomyfeet.Thewerewolves raised their heads in angryhowls andprepared to attack
again.MartyandIstoodpressedclosetogether,staringdownatthem.Theyjumped.Theirclawsscrapedagainstthebricks.Theshrillscreechsentchillsdown
myback.Theirteethsnapped.Theydroppeddown.Preparedanotherleap,snarlingexcitedly.“Wecan’tstayuphereforever!”Martycried.“Whatdowedo?”Isquinted into thedarkness.Wasthat thestudioroadontheothersideof
thewall?Toodarktotell.Thewerewolvesleapedagain.Jaggedteethscrapedagainstmyankle.Ijumpedback.Nearlytoppledoffthewall.MartyandIbumpedintoeachother,oureyesonthetwogrowlingcreatures
preparinganotherleap.Thegun!Theplasticstungun!Minehadfallenfrommyhand.Itwasprobablyburiedinthatmudhole.But
myeyesfellonMarty’sgun.Itshandlepokedoutfromhisjeanspocket.Withoutsayingaword, Igrabbed thehandleand tugged theplasticpistol
fromMarty’sjeans.“Hey—!”hecried.“Erin—whatareyoudoing?”“They gave us the guns for a reason,” I explained, shouting over the
frighteninghowlsofthetwowerewolves.“Maybethiswillstopthem.”“It—it’sonlyatoy!”Martystammered.
Ididn’tcare.Itwasworthatry.Maybeitwouldfrightenthem.Maybeitwouldhurtthem.Maybeitwould
chasethemaway.Iraisedtheplasticgun.Aimeditasthetwowerewolvesmadeanotherleap
of attack. “One—two—three—FIRE!” I squeezed the trigger. Again. Again.Again!
21
Thegunmadealoudbuzzingsound.Itshotoutabeamofyellowlight.Yes!Ithought.Yes!Iprayed.Thelightwillstopthem.It’s a stun gun—right? The buzzing sound and the bright light will stun
them.ItwillfreezetheminplacesoMartyandIcanmakeourescape.Isqueezedthetriggerhard.Again.Again.Itdidn’tstopthewerewolves.Itdidn’tevenseemtosurprisethem.Theyleapedhigher.Ifeltsharpclawsscrapemyleg.Icriedoutinpain.Andtheplasticgunflewoutofmyhand.Itclatteredagainstthetopofthewall,thenslidtotheground.Justatoy.Martywasright.Itwasn’tarealweapon.Itwasjustastupidtoy.“Look out!” Marty opened his mouth in a shrill shriek as the snarling
creaturesmadeanotherhighleapatthewall.Clawsscrapedthebrick—andheldon.Redeyesglaredupatme.Hotwolf
breathtingledmyskin.“Ohhh.”MyarmsflewupasIlostmybalance.Istruggledtostayup.But
mykneesbent.Myfeetslipped.IgrabbedforMarty.Missed.Andtoppledoff.Landedhardonmybackontheothersideofthewall.Gazingupinhorror,IsawMartyleapdownbesideme.Thetwowerewolveswereonthetopofthewallnow.Theyglareddownat
us,redeyesglowing,tonguesout,breathinghard.Preparingtopounce.Martydraggedmetomyfeet.“Run!”hecriedhoarsely,hiseyeswidewith
panic.Thewerewolvesgrowledaboveus.Theground tilted. I still felt dizzy, a little dazed frommy fall. “We—we
can’toutrunthem!”Imoaned.Iheardarumblingsound.Aclatter.Marty and I both turned.And saw two yellow eyes, glowing against the
darksky.Yelloweyesofacreatureroaringtowardus.
No.Notacreature.Asitdrewnearer,Icouldmakeoutitslong,sleekshape.Thetram!Thetrambouncingovertheroadbehindyellowheadlights.Comingcloser.
Closer.Yes!IturnedtoMarty.Didheseeit,too?Hedid.Withoutsayingaword,webothbeganrunningto theroad.Thetramwas
rollingfast.Somehowwehadtoclimbonit.Wehadto!Behindus,Iheardthewerewolveshowl.Iheardahardthump,thenanother
astheydroppedoffthewall.Thetwinyellowheadlightsofthetramsweptoverus.Thewerewolvessnarledandhowledangrilyastheychasedafterus.A few feet aheadofme,Martywashurtling forward, his headdown, his
legspumpingfuriously.Thetrambumpedcloser.Closer.Thehowlingwerewolveswere inchesbehindus. I couldalmost feel their
hotbreathonthebackofmyneck.Afewmoreseconds.Afewmoreseconds—andMartyandIwouldmake
ourjump.Iwatched the tram speed around a curve, the yellow headlightswashing
overthedarkroad.Ikeptmyeyesonthefrontcar.Tookadeepbreath.Preparedtojump.
AndthenMartyfell.Isawhishandsshootout.Sawhismouthopenwideinsurprise.Inhorror.He stumbled over his own bare feet and dropped to the ground, landing
hardonhisstomach.Icouldn’tstopintime.Iranrightintohim.Stumbledoverhim.Fellheavilyontopofhim.Andwatchedthetramspeedpastus.
22
“Owoooooooo!”Thetwowerewolvesutteredlonghowlsoftriumph.Myheartpounding, I scrambled tomyfeet.“Getup!” I franticallypulled
Martyupbybotharms.Wetookoffafter thetram,ourbarefeetpoundingthehardroad.Thelast
carbouncedafewfeetaheadofus.Ireacheditfirst.Shotoutmyrighthand.Grabbedthebackofthecar.Withadesperateleap,Ihoistedmyselfup.Up.Andintothelastseat.Strugglingtocatchmybreath,IturnedbacktofindMartyrunningbehind
thetram.Hishandsreachedforthebackofthetramcar.“I—Ican’tmakeit!”hegasped.
“Run!You’vegotto!”Iscreamed.Behindhim,Icouldseethewerewolvesscamperingclosebehind.Marty put on a burst of speed.Hegrabbed the backof the carwith both
hands. It dragged him for several feet—until he swung himself around anddroppedintotheseatbesideme.
Yes! I thought happily. We made it! We got away from those howlingwerewolves.
Ordidwe?Wouldtheyjumpintothetramafterus?I spunaround,mywholebody trembling.And Iwatched thewerewolves
fadeintothedistance.Theyranforawhile,thengaveup.Theybothstoodintheroad,hunchedoverindefeat,watchingusescape.
Escape.Whatawonderfulword.MartyandIgrinnedateachother.Islappedhimahighfive.We were both breathing hard, covered in mud. My legs ached from
running. My bare feet throbbed. My heart still thudded from the frighteningchase.
Butwehadescaped.Andnowweweresafeinthetram,onourwaybacktothestartingplatform.Backtomydad.
“We’ve got to tell your dad that this place is messed up,” Marty said
breathlessly.“Somethingishorriblywronghere,”Iagreed.“Those werewolves—they weren’t kidding around,” Marty continued.
“They—theywerereal,Erin.Theyweren’tactors.”Inodded. I felt soglad thatMarty finallyagreedwithme.Andhewasn’t
pretendingtobebraveanymore.Hewasn’tpretendingthatitwasallrobotsandspecialeffects.
Webothknewthatwehadfacedrealdangers.Realmonsters.Something was terribly wrong at Shocker Studios. Dad had told us he
wantedafullreport.Well,hewasgoingtogetone!Isettledbackintheseat,tryingtocalmdown.But I shot straight up againwhen I realizedweweren’t alone. “Marty—
look!”Ipointedtothefrontofthetram.“Wearen’ttheonlypassengers.”Infact,everytramcarappearedtobefilledwithpeople.“What’s going on?”Martymurmured. “Your dad saidwewere the only
onesonthetour.Andnowthetramis—OH!—”Martyneverfinishedhissentence.Hismouthfellopeninagasp.Hiseyes
bulgedopenwide.Igasped,too.Theotherpassengersonthetramallturnedaroundatthesametime.AndI
saw theirgrinning jaws, theirdark, emptyeye sockets, thegraybonesof theirskulls.
Skeletons.Theotherpassengerswereallgrinningskeletons.Their jaws opened in dry laughter. Cruel laughter that sounded like the
wind screeching through bare trees. Bones rattled and clattered as they raisedtheiryellowed,skeletalhandstopointatus.
Their skulls bobbed and bounced as the tram carried us, faster, faster,throughthedarkness.
Marty and I slumped low in the seat, trembling, staring at the grinningskulls,thepointingfingers.
Whowerethey?Howdidtheygetonthistram?Whereweretheytakingus?
23
The skeletons laughed their wheezing laugh. Their bones clanked and rattled.Theiryellowedskullsbouncedlooselyontheirclatteringshoulderbones.
Thetrampickedupspeed.Wewereflyingthroughthedarkness.I forced myself to turn away from the grinning skulls and peered out.
Beyondthetrees,Icouldseethelowbuildingsofthemoviestudio.AsIstared,theygrewsmaller,fadedintotheblacknessofthenight.
“Marty—we’renotgoingbacktothemainplatform,”Iwhispered.“We’reheadingthewrongway.We’regoingawayfromallthebuildings.”
Heswallowedhard.Icouldseethepanicinhiseyes.“Whatcanwedo?”hechokedout.
“We’vegottogetoff!”Ireplied.“We’vegottojump.”Martyhadslumpedallthewaydownintheseat,aslowashecouldget.I
thinkhewastryingtohidefromtheskeletons.Nowhe raisedhishead andpeekedover the sideof the tram. “Erin—we
can’tjump!”hecried.“We’regoingtoofast.”Hewasright.Wewererocketingalongtheroad.Andthetramkeptpickingupspeed.The
treesandshrubswhirredpastinadarkblur.Andthenaswesquealedintoasharpcurve,atallbuildingseemedtojump
intoourpath.A castle, bathed in swirling spotlights. All gray and silver. Twin towers
reacheduptothesky.Asolidstonewallroseupfromtheroad.Theroad.Itcurvedstraightintothecastlewall.Theroadendedatthewall.Andwewereroaringdowntheroad,stillpickingupspeed.Roaringtowardthecastle.Theskeletonsrattledandclatteredandlaughedtheirdry,screechinglaugh.
They bounced in their seats, bones cracking, jumping in excitement as wezoomedatthecastle.
Closer.Closer.Rightuptoitnow.Uptothesolidstonewall.Abouttosmashrightintoit.
24
Mylegs trembled.Myheartpounded.ButsomehowImanaged tostandupontheseat.
Itookadeepbreath.Heldit.Closedmyeyes—andjumped.Ilandedhardonmyside,androlled.IsawMartyhesitate.Thetrambounced.Martydoveovertheside.Hehitthegroundonhisstomach.Rolledontohisback.Andkeptrolling.Icametoastopunderatree.Andturnedtothecastle—intimetoseethe
tramplungeintothestonewall.Withoutasound.Thefirsttramcarhitthecastlewallandflewthroughit.Silently.Icouldseetheskeletonsbobbingandbouncing.AndIsawthenextcarandthenextandthenext—allshootintothecastle
wallanddisappearthroughitwithoutmakingasound.Afewsecondslater,thetramdisappeared.Aheavysilencefellovertheroad.Thespotlightsonthecastlewalldimmed.“Erin—areyouokay?”Martycalledweakly.Iturnedtofindhimonhishandsandkneesontheothersideoftheroad.I
scrambledtomyfeet.Ihadscrapedmyside,butitdidn’thurttoobadly.“I’mokay,”Itoldhim.Ipointedtothecastle.“Didyouseethat?”“Isawit,”Martyreplied,standingupslowly.“ButIdon’tbelieve it.”He
stretched.“Howdidthetramgothroughthewall?Doyouthinkthecastleisn’treallythere?Thatit’sanopticalillusion?Somekindoftrick?”
“There’saneasywaytofindout,”Isaid.Wewalked side by side on the road. Thewind rustled the trees,making
themwhisperallaroundus.Thepavementfeltcoldundermybarefeet.“We’ve got to find my dad,” I said quietly. “I’m sure he can explain
everythingtous.”“Ihopeso,”Martymurmured.Westeppeduptothecastlewall.Istuckoutbothhands,expectingthemto
gorightthrough.
Butmyhandsslappedsolidstone.Marty lowered his shoulder and shoved it against the castle wall. His
shoulderhitthewallwithathud.“It’ssolid,”Martysaid,shakinghishead.“It’sarealwall.Sohowdidthe
tramgothroughit?”“It’saghosttram,”Iwhispered,rubbingmyhandagainstthecoldstone.“A
ghosttramfilledwithskeletons.”“Butwerodeinit!”Martycried.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 andmonsters!I’mnevergoingtoanotherscarymovieaslongasIlive!”
“Your fathercanexplain itall,”Martysaidsoftly,shakinghishead.“I’msurehecan.”
“I don’t want him to explain it!” I cried. “I just want to get away fromhere!”
Keepingclosetogether,wemadeourwayaroundtothesideofthecastle.Icould hear strange, animal howls behind us. And a frightening cackle cutthroughtheairsomewhereaboveourheads.
I ignored all the sounds. I didn’t want to think aboutwhether theywerebeing made by real monsters or fakes. I didn’t want to think about thefrighteningcreatureswehadruninto—ortheclosecallsMartyandIhadhad.
Ididn’twanttothink.Atthebackof thecastle, theroadappearedagain.“Ihopewe’regoingin
therightdirection,”Imurmured,followingitasitcurvedintothehill.“Me,too,”Martyrepliedinatinyvoice.Wepickedupourpace,walkingquicklyinthemiddleoftheroad.Wetried
not to pay attention to the sharp animal calls, the shrill cries, the howls andmoansthatseemedtofollowuseverywhere.
The road sloped uphill.Marty and I leaned forward as we climbed. Thefrighteningcriesandhowlsfollowedusupthehill.
Aswenearedthetop,Isawseverallowbuildings.“Yes!” I cried. “Marty—look! We must be heading back to the main
platform.”Istartedjoggingtowardthebuildings.Martytrottedclosebehind.Webothstoppedwhenwerealizedwherewewere.BackonShockStreet.Somehowwehadmadeacircle.Pasttheoldhousesandsmallshops,TheShockStreetCemeterycameinto
view. Staring at the fence, I remembered the green hands poking up from theground.Thegreenshoulders.Thegreenfaces.Thehandspullingus,pullingusdown.
Mywholebodyshuddered.I didn’twant to be back here. I neverwanted to see this terrifying street
again.But I couldn’t turn away from the cemetery. As I stared at the old
gravestonesfromacrossthestreet,Isawsomethingmove.Awispofgray.Likeatinycloud.Itroseupbetweentwocrooked,oldstones.Floatedsilentlyintotheair.Andthenanotherpuffofgrayliftedofftheground.Andanother.I glimpsedMarty. He stood beside me, hands pressed against his waist,
staringhard.Hesawthem,too.The gray puffs rose silently, like snowballs or cotton. Dozens of them,
floatingupfromthegraves.Floatingoverthecemeteryandoutoverthestreet.FloatingaboveMartyandme.Hoveringsolow.Andthenaswestaredupatthem,theystartedtogrow.Toinflate,likegray
balloons.AndIsawfacesinsidethem.Darkfaces,etchedinshadowliketheManin
theMoon.Thefacesscowledatus.Oldfaces,linedandcreased.Eyesnarrowedtodarkslits.Frowningfaces.Sneeringfacesinsidethebillowing,whitepuffs.
IgrabbedMarty’sshoulder. Iwanted to run, togetaway, togetout fromunderthem.
But, like smoke, the wisps of mist with their evil faces, swirled down,swirledaroundus.Trappedus.Trappedusinside.
The faces, the ugly, scowling faces, spinning around us. Spinning faster,faster,holdingusintheswirling,chokingmist.
25
Ipressedmyhandsovermyeyes,tryingtoshutthemout.Ifrozeintotalpanic.Icouldn’tthink.Icouldn’tbreathe.Icouldheartheshrillrushofwindastheghostlycloudsswirledaroundus.And then I heard aman’svoice, shoutingover thewind: “Cut!Print that
one!Goodscene,everyone!”I loweredmyhands slowlyandopenedmyeyes. I letoutmybreath ina
longwhoosh.A man came striding up to Marty and me. He wore jeans and a gray
sweatshirtunderabrown leather jacket.Hehadablue-and-whiteDodgerscapsidewaysonhishead.Ablondponytailtumbledoutfromunderit.
Hecarriedaclipboardinonehand.Hehadasilverwhistlearoundhisneck.HesmiledatMartyandmeandflashedusathumbs-up.
“Hey, what’s up, guys? I’m Russ Denver. Good job! You looked reallyscared.”
“Huh?”Icried,mymouthdroppingopen.“Wewerereallyscared!”“I’msogladtoseeareallivehuman!”Martycried.“This tour—it’s totally messed up!” I shrieked. “The creatures—they’re
alive!Theytriedtohurtus!Theyreallydid!Itwasn’tanyfun!Itwasn’tlikearide!”Thewordsspilledoutofmeinarush.
“It was really gross! The werewolves snapped at us and chased us up awall!”Martyexclaimed.
The two of us started talking at once, telling this guy Denver all of thefrighteningthingsthathadhappenedtousonthetour.
“Whoa! Whoa!” A smile crossed his handsome face. He raised hisclipboard as if to shieldhimself fromus. “It’s all special effects, guys.Didn’ttheyexplaintoyouthatwe’remakingamoviehere?Thatwewerefilmingyourreactions?”
“No. No one explained that, Mr. Denver!” I replied angrily. “My dadbroughtushere.Hedesignedthestudiotour.Andhetolduswewerethefirsttotryitout.Buthedidn’ttellusaboutanymoviebeingfilmed.Ireallythink—”
IfeltMarty’shandonmyshoulder. IknewMartywas trying tocalmmedown.ButIdidn’twanttobecalmeddown.
Iwasreallyangry.Mr. Denver turned back to a group of crewmembers behind him in the
street.“Takethirty,guys.Let’sbreakfordinner.”Theymovedaway, talkingamong themselves.Mr.Denver turnedback to
us.“Yourfathershouldhaveexplainedtoyou—”“It’sokay.Really,”Marty interrupted. “We justgot a little scared.Allof
the creatures seemed so real. And we didn’t see any other people anywhere.You’rethefirstrealpersonwe’veseenallafternoon.”
“Mydadmustbereallyworried,”Itoldthemoviedirector.“Hesaidhe’dbewaitingforusonthemainplatform.Canyoutellushowtogetthere?”
“Noproblem,”Mr.Denverreplied.“Seethatbighousetherewiththeopendoor?”Hepointedwithhisclipboard.
MartyandIstaredat thehouseacross thestreet.Anarrowpath ledup tothehouse.Apaleyellowlightshoneinsidetheopenfrontdoor.
“That’sShockro’sHouseofShocks,” thedirector explained. “Go right inthatdoorandstraightthroughthehouse.”
“But won’t we get shocked in there?” Marty demanded. “In the movie,anyonewhogoesintoShockro’shousegets joltedwithtwentymillionvoltsofelectricity!”
“That’sjustinthemovie,”Mr.Denverreplied.“Thehouseisjustaset.It’sperfectlysafe.Gothroughthehouse.Thenout
theback,andyouwillseethemainbuildingontheothersideofthestreet.Youcan’tmissit.”
“Thankyou!”MartyandIcalledoutatonce.Martyturnedandstartedrunningfullspeedtowardthehouse.IturnedbacktoMr.Denver.“I’msorryforyellingbefore,”I toldhim.“I
wasjustsoscared,andIthought—”Igasped.Mr.Denverhadturnedaway.AndIsawthe longpowercord—thepower
cordthatwaspluggedintohisback.Hewasn’tarealhuman.Hewasn’tamoviedirector.Hewassomekindof
robot.Hewasfakelikealltheothers.Hewaslyingtous.Lying!Iturnedandcuppedmyhandsaroundmymouth.Istartedtorun,frantically
callingafterMarty:“Don’tgointhere!Marty—stop!Don’tgointhathouse!”Toolate.Martywasalreadyrunningthroughthedoor.
26
“Marty—wait!Stop!”IshoutedasIran.Ihadtostophim.Thedirectorwasafake.Iknewhewasn’ttellingthetruth.“Marty—please!”Mybarefeetpounded thehardpavement. Iplungedup thepathasMarty
trottedintothedoorway.“Stop!”Iflewtothedoorway.Reachedoutbothhands.Madeawilddivetotackle
him.Andmissed.Iskiddedacrossthewalkonmystomach.AssoonasMartyenteredthehouse,Isawtheflashofwhitelight.Ihearda
loudbuzz.Thenthesharpcrackleofelectricity.The room exploded in a flash of lightning. So bright I had to shieldmy
eyes.When I opened them, I saw Marty sprawled facedown on the floor.
“Nooooo!”Iletoutaterrifiedwail.Scramblingtomyfeet,Idoveintothehouse.WouldIgetshocked,too?Ididn’tcare.IhadtogettoMarty.Ihadtohelphimoutofthere.“Marty!Marty!”Iscreamedhisnameagainandagain.Hedidn’tmove.“Marty—please!”Igrabbedhisshouldersandstartedtoshakehim.“Wake
up,Marty!Snapoutofit!Marty!”Hedidn’topenhiseyes.Isuddenlyfeltachill.Adarkshadowslidoverme.AndIrealizedIwasn’taloneinthehouse.
27
Ispunaroundwithagasp.WasitShockro?Someotherscarycreature?Atallfigureleanedoverme.Isquintedintothedarkness,strugglingtosee
hisface.“Dad!”Icriedashecameintofocus.“Dad!Oh,I’msogladtoseeyou!”“Erin,whatareyoudoinghere?”heaskedinalowvoice.“It—it’sMarty!” I stammered. “You’ve got to help him,Dad.He’s been
shockedandhe—he—”Dad leaned closer.Behind his eyeglasses, his brown eyeswere cold.His
facesetinatroubledfrown.“Dosomething,Dad!”Ipleaded.“Martyishurt.Heisn’tmoving.Hewon’t
open his eyes. The studio tour was so awful, Dad! Something is wrong.Somethingisterriblywrong!”
Hedidn’treply.Heleanedcloser.Andashisfacecameintothesoftlight,Isawthathewasn’tmyfather!“Whoareyou?”Ishrieked.“You’renotmydad!Whyaren’tyouhelping
me?Whyaren’tyouhelpingMarty?Dosomething—please!Where’smydad?Where is he? Who are you? Help me! Somebody? Help meAAAAAARRRRRRRRR. Help MRRRRRRRRRRRR. Dad—MARRRRRRRRRRRRRR.DRRRMMMMMMMMmmmmm.”
28
Mr.WrightstoodstaringdownatErinandMarty.Heshookhisheadunhappily.Heshuthiseyesandletoutalongsigh.
JaredCurtis,oneofthestudioengineers,camerunningintoTheHouseofShocks.“Mr.Wright,whathappenedtoyourtwokidrobots?”hedemanded.
Mr.Wrightsighedagain.“Programmingproblems,”hemuttered.HepointedtotheErinrobot,frozeninplaceonherkneesbesidetheMarty
robot.“Ihadtoshutthegirloff.Hermemorychipmustbebad.TheErinrobotwas supposed to thinkofmeasher father.But just now, shedidn’t recognizeme.”
“AndwhatabouttheMartyrobot?”Jaredasked.“It’s totally down,” Mr. Wright replied. “I think the electrical system
shortedout.”“Whatashame,”Jaredsaid,bendingtorolltheMartyrobotover.Hepulled
uptheT-shirtandfiddledwithsomedialsontheback.“Hey,Mr.Wright,itwasagreatideatomakerobotkidstotestthepark.Ithinkwecanfixthem.”
JaredopenedupapanelonMarty’sbackandsquintedattheredandgreenwires.“Alltheothercreatures,andmonsters,androbotsworkedperfectly.Notasinglebug.”
“I should have known therewas a problem yesterday,”Mr.Wright said.“Wewereinmyoffice.TheErinrobotaskedabouthermother.Ibuilther.Shedoesn’thaveamother.”
Mr.Wright tosseduphishands.“Oh,well.Noproblem.We’ll reprogramthesetwo.Putinnewchips.They’llbegoodasnewinnotime.Thenwe’lltrythemoutonceagainontheShockerStudioTour,beforeweopentheparktorealkids.”
HetooktheMartyrobotfromJaredandslungitoverhisshoulder.ThenhepickeduptheErinrobot.Hetosseditoverhisothershoulder.Then,hummingtohimself,hecarriedthemtotheengineeringbuilding.
Scanning,formattingandproofingbyUndead.
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