Jackson pushed through the crowd of kids and stepped up beside us. “Let me try,” he said. He narrowed his eyes and began to concentrate on the wall.
“What’s he doing?” Robby asked. “Why is he staring like that?”
I opened my mouth to answer. But a loud CRAAAAACK made me stop. I jumped back as a jagged crack ran down the wall.
Kids gasped as the crack grew wider and the wall slowly pulled apart. Jackson stared hard — and the wall slid open like sliding doors.
“It — it’s working!” I cried.
As the wall slid away, a window came into view. Through the window, I could see a brightly lit restaurant with blue-and-white checkered tablecloths on the tables.
Behind the two rows of tables, the walls were covered in mirrors.
The wall pulled away even more to reveal a glass door.
“Yes! Yes!” Matt pumped his fists in the air. He slapped Jackson a high five. “You’re a genius!” he cried.
Matt slid the key card into a slot beside the door. The door swung open and we burst inside. No one there.
It seemed to be an ice cream parlor. I saw big tubs of ice cream in a freezer near the front. A sign behind the counter read: 550 SICKENING FLAVORS! TRY ’EM ALL TODAY!
Matt led the way to the mirror on the back wall. He stabbed a hand forward — and the hand disappeared into the mirror.
“The glass is soft — like liquid!” he cried. “Let’s go, everyone! We’re outta here!”
“Careful,” Carly Beth warned. “One at a time. Line up. Come on. Into the mirror — one at a time.”
She called off the kids’ names as they stepped into the glass and disappeared….
“Billy … Sheena … Boone … Sabrina … Abby …”
“How weird is this?” Jackson said to me. “They’re gone! They walked right into the mirror!”
Before I could answer, an angry voice boomed from behind us: “Are you kids crazy? What do you think you’re doing?”
I spun around as two Monster Police in black-and-orange uniforms burst into the café. They raised long black clubs and came running at us. “What are you doing?” one of them demanded again.
“Escaping,” Jackson called to them.
He turned his gaze to the ice cream freezer. The door slid open. And then the big tubs floated into the air. And came crashing down on the two Horrors.
The Monster Police let out angry groans and toppled to the floor under the tubs. Their black clubs went flying.
Then the rest of us — all six of us — dove into the mirror at once.
“OWWWW!”
I screamed as my forehead cracked into solid glass.
Beside me, the other kids cried out in shock and pain, and bounced off the glass, staggering back.
Shaking off the pain, I punched the mirror with both fists. The glass was hard. No way to escape into it.
We were all rubbing our foreheads. Robby cupped his hand over a bloody nose. Kids pushed against the glass, but it was no use.
Five kids had made it through. Six of us were left.
And now the bright café began to fade. The blue-and-white-checkered tablecloths dimmed to gray. The lights began to flicker out.
Still dazed, we were standing in the hallway again, staring at a solid wall.
I heard thundering footsteps running toward us. And from around a corner came four more Monster Police officers waving clubs.
“Run!” Carly Beth screamed.
“Where?” Julie cried.
We turned and charged down the long hall. “To the lake,” Matt said. “We can swim out of this park if we have to!”
“STOP!” an officer yelled. “Stop! We just want to talk to you!”
“Then why are they waving clubs?” Carly Beth asked breathlessly.
We whirled around a corner, down a long hall with the Monster Police close behind. Out a door into the crowded park. Zigzagging through kids and families, trying to lose our pursuers in the crowds.
Jackson and I didn’t know where the lake was. We followed the others. I kept glancing back. I didn’t see the Monster Police. But I knew they were close behind.
My chest throbbed as we finally reached a round blue lake. No one in the water. I spotted a row of canoes tethered to a short dock.
“Into the canoes,” Matt gasped. We were all breathing hard, totally winded.
The canoes tossed and bobbed in the water as we scrambled into them, two to a canoe. Jackson held a canoe steady as I dropped onto the seat. He tossed off the rope holding it to the dock and leaped in behind me.
I began paddling furiously.
Robby and Julie paddled beside us. Matt and Carly Beth shared the third canoe. Matt kept waving us forward. He and Carly Beth pulled ahead to lead the way.
We’re doing it, I thought. We’re getting away.
But does this lake really lead out of the park?
I learned to paddle during a long canoe trip at camp last year. But I’d never paddled so hard and fast before. Leaning forward, I put all my strength into it.
I screamed when I heard the cracking sound beneath me. Jackson screamed, too.
And then I felt cold water seep up my legs. “The bottom!” I cried. “The bottom dropped out of the canoe!”
I slid down fast, unable to catch myself. Into the cold water. I sank below the surface, then raised my arms and pulled myself back up.
Sputtering, swimming in place, I shook water out of my eyes. “Jackson?”
He was swimming beside me. All six of us were in the water, splashing hard, trying to get over our surprise.
“I forgot!” Matt shouted. “Those canoes — they’re part of a ride. It’s the Bottomless Canoe Ride.”
“Now he tells us!” Robby cried.
Everyone laughed. Nervous laughter.
We swam in circles, trying to figure out how far we had come. Not far enough. We had no choice. We had to return to the dock where we started.
Soaked and shivering, I climbed onto the muddy shore. I turned and helped pull Julie out of the water.
We were all hugging ourselves, shaking off water, our teeth chattering.
“Now what?” Robby asked. “We can’t just stand here soaking wet.”
I heard voices. I turned to see a boy and girl running toward us. I recognized them instantly. The two kids who had been watching us.
The six of us huddled together.
“You’ve been spying on us — haven’t you!” I cried.
The girl nodded. “Yes, it’s true,” she said. “We’ve been watching you.”
“Who are you?” I asked. “Why are you spying? Why are you working for the Horrors?”
The boy laughed. “Huh? Us? Working for the Horrors?”
“We’re not,” the girl replied. “My name is Lizzy Morris. This is my brother, Luke. Luke and I have been to HorrorLand before. We know you’re in a lot of danger.”
“We know you’re trying to escape,” her brother said. “But we think you’re making a terrible mistake. We think you need to stay here in HorrorLand.”
That made everyone angry.
“You’re crazy!”
“You really are working for the Horrors!”
“No way we’re staying here!”
“We don’t work for the Horrors. We’re trying to help you,” Lizzy insisted. “We really think you will be safer here in HorrorLand.”
Carly Beth glared at them suspiciously. She turned to me. “Jillian, can you read Lizzy’s mind? Is she telling the truth?”
I narrowed my eyes at Lizzy and concentrated.
“No,” I said. “She’s lying.”
Lizzy’s blue eyes bulged. Her mouth dropped open.
“Don’t deny it,” I said. “You’re lying!”
She and her brother took a step back.
But the six of us quickly surrounded them.
“Why are you really here?” Matt demanded. “Tell us! Tell us! What are you trying to do to us?”
Six kids for
med a circle around my brother, Luke, and me. Their fists were clenched tight. And their eyes were shooting darts at us.
I know, I know. That’s a strange way to start my story. But everything is strange in HorrorLand. Luke and I had just met these kids — and they were already angry at us.
My name is Lizzy Morris. I’m thirteen and Luke is eleven.
Luke and I were in HorrorLand a year ago. We had plenty of scary adventures. Then, a few months ago, we learned that something was very wrong at the park.
One of the Horrors, a park worker, began to send us mysterious e-mails. He told us about a group of kids who were in big trouble.
We started studying the park, and we wrote a blog about what we learned.
We found out that fourteen kids had been invited to spend a free week as Very Special Guests. And when they arrived, things turned out to be way TOO scary!
Now the kids believed their lives were in danger. Someone was trying to scare them to death! They were desperate to escape HorrorLand.
These kids discovered that another park existed — a place called Panic Park. It could be reached only by traveling through mirrors.
I know it sounds crazy, but stick with me. Eight kids had already escaped to Panic Park. They all believed they’d be safer there.
And now the remaining six kids were unhappy with Luke and me because we had a warning for them: Don’t go there!
I didn’t blame them for being suspicious. I mean, Luke and I knew all the kids’ names because we’d been studying them. But the kids had never seen us before.
And here we were, warning them not to go to Panic Park.
Their eyes narrowed at us. Their faces turned hard and cold. “Who are you? Why are you trying to trick us?” Matt Daniels asked.
He was athletic looking and tall. Matt and Carly Beth Caldwell appeared to be the leaders of the group. She was cute — short and pixieish. She looked a lot younger than twelve.
“We’re not tricking you,” Luke said. “We’re trying to help you.”
“We’ve been studying both parks,” I said. “We’ve done a lot of research. We think you are safer in HorrorLand.”
“You’re both spies for the Horrors!” Robby Schwartz cried. “We know we’re not safe in HorrorLand.”
“Who are you working for?” Jackson Gerard demanded. His twin sister, Jillian, glared at us, scowling. They were both tall and thin, with straight brown hair and dark eyes.
“Are you working for that maniac super hero? The one who calls himself The Keep er?” Jackson said. “He’s trying to keep us here, too.”
“We — we’re not working for anyone,” I stammered. “I told you — Luke and I have found a lot of information. We think Panic Park is a big trap.”
Some kids snickered and groaned. Carly Beth rolled her eyes. “Can you prove it?” she asked.
“Well … no,” I said. “But —”
“Eight of our friends are already there,” Matt said. “Are you telling us they walked into a trap?”
“If it’s true, we definitely have to follow them there,” Julie Martin said. “To help rescue them.”
The afternoon sun sat high above the trees. We were standing on the shore of the Black Lagoon. I could hear the howls from Wolfsbane Forest, which stretched out to my right.
Robby glanced from side to side. “We have to hurry,” he said. “The Horrors are searching for us. We can’t stand here arguing with two kids we don’t know.”
“But … Luke and I are trying to help,” I insisted.
Jillian stepped up close to me. Her eyes burned into mine. After a long, tense moment, she turned to the others.
“I read Lizzy’s mind,” Jillian said. “We can’t listen to her. She’s lying.”
“Huh?” I let out a gasp. “No way! I’m NOT!” I cried.
“She’s definitely lying,” Jillian told them.
I swallowed hard. My mouth suddenly felt dry. My hands were shaking. “You — you can read minds?” I stammered.
Jillian sneered at me. “My brother and I have special powers,” she said. “I read your thoughts, Lizzy. I know you’re not telling the truth. You must be working for the Horrors.”
And that’s when the six kids surrounded Luke and me.
“I AM telling the truth!” I screamed. “We are NOT working for the Horrors.”
I could see they were desperate. And frightened.
And angry.
They closed in on us. “I swear I’m telling the truth!” I cried. “Don’t hurt us! HEY — don’t hurt us!”
R.L. Stine’s books are read all over the world. So far, his books have sold more than 300 million copies, making him one of the most popular children’s authors in history. Besides Goosebumps, R.L. Stine has written the teen series Fear Street and the funny series Rotten School, as well as the Mostly Ghostly series, The Nightmare Room series, and the two-book thriller Dangerous Girls. R.L. Stine lives in New York with his wife, Jane, and Minnie, his King Charles spaniel. You can learn more about him at www.RLStine.com.
Goosebumps book series created by Parachute Press, Inc.
Goosebumps HorrorLand #10: Help! We Have Strange Powers!
copyright © 2009 by Scholastic Inc.
All rights reserved. Published by Scholastic Inc., Publishers since 1920. SCHOLASTIC, GOOSEBUMPS, GOOSEBUMPS HORRORLAND, and associated logos are trademarks and/or registered trademarks of Scholastic Inc.
First printing, June 2008
e-ISBN 978-0-545-84087-3
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.
R.L. Stine, Help! We Have Strange Powers!
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