Camp Fear Ghouls

  But when we got to the next house, it didn’t look familiar to me. Sheets of plywood were nailed across the front door. The front porch had collapsed at one end.

  “Is this it?” Caroline asked with a frown.

  “No.” I pointed to the metal numbers nailed beside the front door. “See? That’s 335.”

  Caroline spun in a circle. “Then where’s 333?”

  “I’m not sure,” I muttered. I took two steps into the street and peered at the numbers on the house across the way. “That’s 332. And that other one is 334.”

  Caroline turned to face the boarded-up house. “So this should be 333.”

  “But it’s not,” I said. “The numbers say 335.”

  “Maybe the numbering is off.” Caroline tugged me down the street. “Do any of those houses look familiar?”

  I shook my head. None of them did. “There’s 337, 339—and then we’re at the cemetery.”

  “So where’s 333?” Caroline demanded.

  I shook my head, totally baffled. “It’s gone,” I murmured. “Completely vanished!”

  12

  Caroline put her hands on her hips. “Stop kidding around, Lizzy. Houses don’t just disappear! Now, which house is it, really?”

  “It’s 333 Fear Street,” I insisted. “But it isn’t here!”

  Caroline’s face turned that slight shade of red it gets when she’s really mad. “You’re doing this on purpose!” she shouted. “You’re still mad at me. I bet you made up the Camp Fear Girls just so you could drag me down Fear Street!”

  “No, I didn’t,” I protested. “I was at a meeting in 333 Fear Street just last night.”

  Caroline rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure you were.”

  I raised my right hand. “Caroline, I swear I’m telling the truth.”

  Caroline stood on the sidewalk, glaring at me. “I don’t believe you.”

  “Fine!” I snapped. “Don’t.” I retraced my steps down the sidewalk. Maybe 333 Fear Street would magically appear.

  It didn’t.

  “You can’t just leave me here,” Caroline complained as she raced to join me.

  “I’m not leaving you,” I shot back. “I’m trying to find that house. I spent a whole evening there. My mom saw the invitation. If you don’t believe me, ask her.”

  Caroline stared down the street at the house with the banging shutter. “Then tell me how the house just disappeared,” she whispered. “Explain that.”

  I ran one hand through my hair. “I can’t explain it,” I grumbled. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  The lone street lamp that had been lighting Fear Street suddenly flickered out.

  “Oh, no.” Caroline clutched my arm and squeaked, “Lizzy, why did that happen?”

  “I don’t know,” I answered stiffly. “But I’m not sticking around to find out.”

  “Let’s get out of here!” we shouted together.

  Caroline and I nearly tripped over each other’s feet running out of Shadyside. I knew I shouldn’t have come back to Fear Street. I knew it!

  We raced up the street. Ahead of us, Mill Bridge loomed in the darkness. Our feet thumped onto the wooden bridge.

  Halfway across, Caroline stopped to catch her breath. “We made it,” she breathed. “We . . . ”

  Her words trailed off. I followed her glance. A figure stepped from the shadows.

  I clutched Caroline’s arm. Who was coming toward us?

  “Lizzy!” a voice called from the darkness.

  I blinked.

  “A-A-Amy?” I asked in a quavery voice. “Is that you?”

  “Uh-huh,” Amy answered, joining us.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “I went to Trudy’s after school,” Amy told us. “I was just walking home.”

  “What happened to Pearl’s house?” I blurted out.

  Amy frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “Pearl’s house, 333 Fear Street. It doesn’t exist anymore! I walked up and down Fear Street a zillion times!” I babbled. “And I couldn’t find it! It isn’t there!”

  “Of course it’s there,” Amy said, laughing. “You must have missed it, that’s all. Get a grip, Lizzy!”

  Amy sounded so certain. Could it be? Could I really have missed the house?

  Caroline nudged me. “Lizzy, aren’t you going to introduce us?” she whispered.

  “Oh, yeah. Uh—Caroline, this is Amy,” I muttered. “Amy, meet Caroline.”

  “Caroline?” Amy repeated. She arched one eyebrow.

  I gulped. I’d forgotten all about Prank Night!

  I rushed on before Amy could mention it in front of Caroline. “See, Caroline was invited to join the Waynesbridge Scouts,” I explained. “But she thought they were kind of boring. When I told her about our troop, the Camp Fear Girls, she thought we sounded fun. So I was taking her to meet Pearl.”

  “You told her about the troop?” Amy asked, looking at Caroline for the first time.

  Caroline nodded and flashed a big smile. “Lizzy said she would get me in.”

  “I’d like Caroline to join our troop,” I added. “If that’s all right.”

  Amy’s eyes flew wide.

  “No way. It’s not all right,” she declared.

  “How come?” I asked, startled. Did she have to sound so rude? “You picked me, and your friends didn’t even know me.”

  “Thirteen,” Amy whispered. “There can be only thirteen.”

  “Huh? What are you talking about?”

  “Only thirteen girls. No more,” Amy replied, her voice deadly serious.

  Caroline turned to me. I could see she was angry. And embarrassed. “What kind of a club is this anyway?” she demanded. “You can’t have more than thirteen girls? That’s just too weird. I’m out of here.”

  She marched around Amy and strode across the bridge.

  “Caroline, wait!” I called after her. But she didn’t answer.

  “Can’t you bend the rules a little?” I pleaded with Amy.

  Amy backed away from me. Her dark eyes were bigger than ever. She looked almost . . . frightened. “No. We can’t change them. Not ever. Thirteen. It has to be thirteen.”

  Caroline was right. The club rules were too weird. I opened my mouth to argue.

  Then it hit me.

  This was it! This was my way out of the Camp Fear Girls! Now I could quit without seeming like a wimp!

  “Listen, Amy,” I said. “Either Caroline and I join the Camp Fear Girls together—or I quit!”

  Amy jerked backward as if she’d just been punched in the stomach. “You—you mean you won’t become our next member if Caroline can’t join?” she asked.

  I folded my arms across my chest and shook my head.

  Amy’s scared expression suddenly faded. She grinned.

  It was a nasty grin.

  “Well,” she said. “We can’t have you quit, can we?”

  Her tone made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

  Amy closed her eyes for a moment. She looked as if she was thinking hard.

  I started to say good-bye.

  Then a chilling scream ripped through the night air.

  13

  “What was that?” I cried.

  I raced to the side of the bridge and peered over. It seemed as if the scream came from underneath. Was someone there? I couldn’t tell. Everything was pitch black.

  “Amy, didn’t you hear that scream?” I cried.

  Amy didn’t reply. Or move.

  “Didn’t you hear that scream?” I demanded again.

  “What scream?” A girl’s voice floated up from beneath the bridge. “I didn’t hear a scream. Did you?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous,” another voice said from below. “No one screamed.”

  The voices sounded familiar. I ran around the end of the bridge. Then I scrambled down the steep bank to the river.

  Shadowy figures moved toward me. I felt my throat tighten.

  Then one o
f them stepped into the pool of light from the bridge lamp.

  It was Trudy!

  In fact, now I could see that all the Camp Fear Girls were there. They stood in a group, facing me.

  “What are you guys doing under the bridge?” I asked.

  Trudy gestured to a pile of discarded soda cans and shredded cardboard. “We’re cleaning up the Conononka River. We told you about it last night, remember?”

  “It’s for our Save the Earth badges,” Violet explained.

  What? I was totally confused.

  “Didn’t any of you hear that scream?” I asked.

  Trudy shrugged. “You hear lots of weird sounds when you’re by the river. It was probably a wild animal.”

  I frowned. That scream did not sound like it came from an animal. It sounded like a girl.

  I watched as Trudy tossed the pile of litter into a big plastic bag. The others joined in.

  Everything seemed perfectly normal. If something awful had happened, the Camp Fear Girls sure weren’t acting like it.

  “Lizzy, could you hand me that cardboard box by your feet?” Priscilla called. “It looks soggy, so be careful.”

  “Okay,” I replied. I picked up the box and dropped it into the sack. Then I glanced around the group.

  Everyone seemed perfectly fine.

  But something was different. Someone was missing.

  Who?

  I wove my way through the group, taking in everyone’s faces.

  “Pearl!” I announced. “Pearl’s missing.”

  No one answered. No one even looked at me.

  I tapped Amy on the shoulder. “Where’s Pearl?”

  “Our troop agreed to clean up all the areas under Shadyside’s bridges,” Amy said.

  Huh? She totally ignored my question!

  “That’s great. Where’s Pearl?” I asked again.

  “Okay, that does it, troop,” Trudy announced. “Let’s head ’em up and move ’em out.”

  Wait! Why won’t anyone answer me? I wanted to yell. But I didn’t. What was going on? I felt so confused!

  Could something be wrong with me? I wondered. Had I really missed an entire house? Had I forgotten some announcement about tonight’s meeting? Was I hearing things—like screams?

  I shook my head, trying to clear out my brain. I turned for one last look at the river. In the moonlight the river looked like swirling black oil.

  Then I caught a glimpse of something on the water. Something made of purple cloth.

  “Oh, no.” I let out a low groan.

  Pearl’s purple sash!

  “Guys,” I called. “Look!”

  But there was no one there.

  The Camp Fear Girls had vanished!

  14

  Oh, no! The Camp Fear Girls had all gone home! I was alone!

  I turned back to the water. Frantically, I scanned for the purple sash.

  It was gone too.

  I stared hard at the inky water. Was Pearl in there somewhere?

  But the river flowed smoothly under the bridge. Nothing broke its dark surface.

  Maybe I didn’t see the sash, I thought as I climbed back up to Mill Bridge. Maybe I imagined it because I was already so freaked out.

  That was it, I decided. I had just imagined it. Fear Street had made me nervous. The Camp Fear Girls had made me nervous. Maybe I wasn’t really as into scary stuff as I thought. Because the Camp Fear Girls were just too creepy for me.

  Oh, well. At least it was all over now. The Camp Fear Girls wouldn’t let Caroline join. And I wouldn’t join without her. So I was out. End of story.

  I should have known it wouldn’t be that easy.

  * * *

  The phone was ringing when I walked in the front door. Probably Caroline, calling to yell at me about the Camp Fear Girls.

  “Lizzy, it’s me!” Caroline cried into the phone. “You’ll never guess what I got!”

  Caroline didn’t sound mad. That was a relief.

  “What?” I asked, reaching for an apple on the table.

  “An invitation from the Camp Fear Girls. They want me to go on their camp-out.”

  I nearly choked on my apple. “What? Are you sure it’s an invitation?”

  “Positive,” Caroline replied. “It’s very official looking. There’s even a permission slip for my parents to sign.”

  Huh? Amy just said Caroline couldn’t join.

  How come there was room for her all of a sudden?

  And another thing. How did the invitation reach her so fast? Even if Amy changed her mind, how could it have been at Caroline’s house fifteen minutes later?

  “The envelope was sitting on my bed when I got home,” Caroline was saying. “It must have come this afternoon, but I never even noticed! Isn’t it cool?” She squealed with excitement. “They do want me after all.”

  Something just wasn’t right about this.

  “Caroline,” I said carefully. “Don’t you think it’s a little strange that they asked you to join? You saw how weird Amy acted tonight.”

  Caroline sighed into the phone. “What’s the big deal, Lizzy? I’m in. Why aren’t you glad?”

  Uh-oh. “I am glad,” I said quickly. “But I’m worried about the Camp Fear Girls. They seem a little weird.”

  There was a long pause.

  “I was right,” Caroline said finally. “You do want to keep this troop all to yourself.”

  “What?” I cried. “No!”

  “Then give me one good reason why I shouldn’t go on that camp-out,” Caroline demanded.

  “Caroline, trust me. This is a very bad idea,” I began.

  “Lizzy,” Caroline interrupted. “I already called Arden and told her I quit the Waynesbridge Scouts.”

  “You quit the scouts?” I repeated. Wow! Caroline was really serious about the Camp Fear Girls!

  “That’s right,” Caroline told me. “If we don’t join the Camp Fear Girls, I won’t belong to any club at all. And it will be all your fault. Besides, I really want to go on this camp-out, Lizzy. And I want you to go too. It won’t be any fun without you.”

  What could I say? I lied to Caroline about how cool the Camp Fear Girls were. It was all my fault she quit the scouts.

  “Okay, okay,” I told Caroline. “We’ll go together. But I’ll have to ask my mom first. And besides, I never got a written invitation or a permission—”

  At that second the mail slot in our front door flipped up. A yellow envelope dropped inside. I didn’t have to open it. I knew what it was.

  “Never mind. I think my invitation just arrived,” I told Caroline.

  “Then it’s settled,” Caroline announced. “We’re both going on the camp-out.”

  “Yay,” I said with a sinking feeling. “I can’t wait.”

  * * *

  Friday night Caroline and I stood side by side in my driveway. We had our sleeping bags, our backpacks, and our signed permission slips.

  “Are you sure they’re coming to pick us up?” Caroline asked, shivering a little in the night air.

  “You read the invitation. It said they’d be here at eight o’clock,” I replied.

  Caroline slipped on her jacket. I had to help her with one of her sleeves. When I glanced up, the black van sat in the driveway.

  “Whoa,” Caroline murmured. “When did that pull up?”

  I shrugged.

  The driver was the same weird lady. She stared straight ahead while we loaded our gear into the back of the van.

  “Hi, I’m Caroline.” Caroline stuck her head between the front seats.

  The woman stared straight ahead.

  “Don’t even bother,” I whispered as I tugged the sliding door closed. “She won’t answer you.”

  The old lady hit the gas, and the van peeled out of the driveway.

  “Yikes!” Caroline cried, struggling to put on her seat belt.

  The van whipped down River Road, then whizzed across Mill Bridge.

  We zoomed down Fear Street. I flew forward a
nd crashed into the seat in front of me as the van screeched to a halt.

  I peered out the window. The van sat in front of a dark cluster of trees. The Camp Fear Girls were nowhere in sight.

  “Get out,” the driver growled.

  “Where are we?” Caroline asked.

  The woman pointed toward the thick grove of trees. “The Fear Street Woods.”

  Caroline clutched my arm. “Nobody told me anything about camping in these woods,” she complained. “You know the awful stories about them, Lizzy. No birds ever sing here. People who go in don’t come out.”

  “Do you want to go home?” I asked, hoping Caroline would say yes.

  “No way!” she declared. “Let’s find out where the troop is.”

  She leaned forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder. “Excuse me, but do you know where the troop is? We’d like to talk to them.”

  The driver tossed a piece of yellowed paper into the backseat. “Check the map.”

  “Map?” I repeated, picking it up.

  “The girls are at the campsite,” she said as we climbed out and unloaded our gear. “You have to find it.”

  Caroline glanced over my shoulder at the map. The ink had faded and the paper was torn in several places. “We can barely read this—”

  Caroline didn’t finish her sentence. The driver gunned the van’s engine. In a flash she was gone.

  “Well!” Caroline huffed. “That was totally rude.”

  I couldn’t take my eyes off the Fear Street Woods. The trees stood so close together, they seemed like a solid wall.

  Somehow, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was lurking inside those trees, watching us. Waiting for us to enter.

  “Let’s not go in.” I pulled Caroline backward. “I don’t want to go in.”

  “Oh, come on, Lizzy,” she replied. “Don’t be such a chicken!”

  “Okay.” I sighed. “Let’s go.”

  I flicked on my flashlight’s tiny beam.

  Side by side, we stepped into the woods.

  15

  Crack!

  “What was that?” Caroline aimed her flashlight at a tree.

  “A twig,” I whispered. “You stepped on a twig.”

  “I didn’t,” Caroline protested, blinding me with her light. “It must have been you. Lizzy, this is creepy!”