Page 11 of The Third Evil

“No—I can’t die! I’m too afraid! I want to live!”

  “You cannot live with this ghastly thing inside you! You must die to save your friends, your family!”

  “Get back!” growled the evil inside her head. “Get back now!”

  “No!” Corky cried.

  “Kimmy!” she screamed. “Kimmy—I’m so sorry!”

  I am evil, Corky told herself. I am evil, and I must die!

  “I must live!” the evil force declared. “Get back or suffer a thousand deaths inside your own body!”

  “Nooooo!”

  With a final scream Corky spun around—and stepped to the cliff’s edge.

  She stopped to peer down, her chest heaving, her blood pulsing against her temples.

  No! I can’t do it!

  “I can’t!” she screamed. “I’m too young! I can’t!”

  She felt the evil stir, rising up heavily, triumphantly, inside her. “I can’t! I can’t!”

  She took a step back.

  Defeated.

  “I can’t die! I won’t die!”

  “Others will die,” the evil spirit said inside her. “We will live forever!”

  Chapter 23

  Into the Water

  “Let us go,” the evil said. “We have work to do.”

  Corky obediently took another step back.

  Then suddenly, impulsively, courageously, she stopped. Raising both fists to the dark sky, she shut her eyes and uttered a howl of anguish.

  And plunged off the cliff.

  The fall was like a dream.

  Was that her screaming all the way down?

  She hit the water hard and instantly sank into the murky brown depths.

  “I must live!” the evil protested.

  But Corky dived toward the river bottom. The strong current swept her along. Down, down, down.

  She started to choke. The thick muddy water poured into her open mouth. She tasted the grit, the sourness of it.

  I’m choking. I’m going to die.

  But I don’t want to die.

  I want to live!

  I can’t drown. I can’t die!

  I have to live! I have to!

  But I can’t. I have no choice.

  I have made my choice.

  To die!

  She gasped in another mouthful of the thick, disgusting water.

  And choked violently as she thrashed helplessly under the dark waters.

  As she choked, the evil began to erupt from her mouth.

  She thrashed blindly as the force flowed out of her, blasting the water, churning it, heating it with its evil.

  Hotter.

  The water grew hotter as Corky thrashed and choked.

  Hotter.

  Until the river boiled.

  And still the evil poured out.

  The evil flowed into the churning brown waters, protesting its fate, a howl of fury rising in Corky’s ears, raging through the tossing waters.

  Hotter.

  The brown water bubbled and boiled up. Tall geysers erupted toward the black sky. Even hotter.

  Corky writhed in pain as the water scalded her struggling body.

  I’m dying—dying….

  She felt suddenly light. The evil had departed.

  And then heavier again. Heavy with the thick water that choked her, filling her lungs. “I’m drowning!”

  She heard the evil spirit’s startled cry. “I’m drowning!”

  And then Corky drowned. She felt as if she were shrinking.

  Shrinking until she was nothing but a tiny acorn floating in the water. Then a dot. A lifeless dot. She knew the evil spirit had shrunk too.

  And knowing this, she died.

  Chapter 24

  Another Death

  Raindrops pelted the tumultuous tossing waters. Steam rose up from the boiling surface, forming an eerie white ceiling of fog over the river.

  Corky’s body floated to the top, bobbing like a small rubber raft.

  Watching from the depths, the evil spirit uttered its own death cry, an unending wail of despair.

  Its power boiled the water, pushed the river over its banks, sent high waves crashing against the cliff beside it.

  The thunder of the crashing waves drowned out the thunder in the sky. The anguished howl of the ancient evil weakened and began to fade. The waters still bubbled and steamed.

  “You can’t die!” the spirit wailed, tossing Corky’s body over the surface.

  “You cannot die. You cannot betray me! I am you, and you are me! You cannot die!”

  Weaker.

  The waters began to cool. The eerie white steam drifted apart in the heavy rain.

  Weaker.

  “I won’t let you die!” the ancient force declared. Gathering its strength, it pushed the waters beneath Corky, pushed her up, up—until she rose above the water, suspended in the white mist.

  “I won’t let you die! You are free now! You are out of the water! You are free!”

  Hovering over the water like a sagging helium balloon, Corky’s body slumped lifelessly, her head back, her eyes staring blindly up at the storm clouds.

  “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” The evil spirit’s wail of defeat rose like a siren, then faded to silence.

  Corky’s body dropped back into the water without making a splash.

  “You are dead,” the spirit admitted. “And in dying, you have killed me.”

  Now the thunder in the sky roared louder than the crash of the ebbing waves. In that crash, the spirit was thrown from her body.

  The river flowed quietly again.

  The water quickly cooled.

  The evil faded, then disappeared. Washed away forever in the rain-stirred brown river current.

  Chapter 25

  A Smile

  Kimmy had hit the water hard, on her stomach, and then plunged to the bottom. Paralyzed from shock, she could do nothing but let the current move her.

  But the cold water quickly revived her. Raising both arms and kicking off from the soft river floor, she forced her way to the surface—in time to see Corky’s dive.

  Sheets of rain blinded Kimmy as she struggled against the current to get to her friend.

  The tossing waves pushed her back.

  The water heated up, boiled, and swirled.

  What’s going on? Kimmy wondered, ducking under the waves, stroking desperately, her feet kicking the hot, frothy water.

  What is happening?

  I can’t get to you, Corky.

  I can’t get there.

  Please be okay. Please. Please. Please.

  Please.

  The word became an endless chant in her mind. The sky darkened as the torrents of rain pelted down. Kimmy searched in vain for Corky.

  And then—to her amazement, to her horror—she thought she saw Corky rise up from the water.

  Squinting through the rain, pulling against the current, Kimmy stared at the figure hovering in the white mist, floating over the surface of the water, suspended in the air.

  “Corky!”

  Kimmy swallowed a mouthful of the hot brown water.

  Choking and sputtering, she struggled to breathe.

  When she looked back up, Corky was gone. Had she slipped back into the water?

  Or had she been some kind of mirage, merely Kimmy’s imagination? “Corky! I can’t get to you! Where are you? Where are you?”

  Be okay. Please. Please. Please. Please.

  An object floated on the surface, bobbing on the waves, carried by the strong current.

  Kimmy shrieked as she recognized Corky’s lifeless form.

  Gasping for each breath, her arms aching, her chest about to explode, Kimmy swam frantically toward Corky’s body. Remembering her lifesaving course, Kimmy grabbed Corky in a cross-chest carry and paddled desperately against the current.

  Dead. Dead. Corky is dead.

  Kimmy pulled Corky onto the grassy shore, then stood up unsteadily. Her legs trembled as she gasped, sucking in air, not noticing the cold ra
in beating down on her.

  When she knew her heart wasn’t going to explode, Kimmy dropped to her knees, rolled Corky onto her stomach, leaned over her lifeless body, crying, sobbing, trembling.

  She pushed down with all her weight on Corky’s back. Then released.

  Then pushed again, sobbing as she worked.

  Pushed and released.

  Nothing. No sign of life.

  Pushed and released.

  Pushed and released.

  Until a convulsion of brown water spewed from Corky’s lifeless mouth.

  Pushed and released.

  Kimmy sobbed as she worked, salty tears mixing with cool raindrops on her feverish cheeks.

  Pushed and released.

  Corky’s body rose with another convulsion. Another thick gob of river water rushed out of her mouth. She’s dead, Kimmy knew. Corky’s dead.

  But she pushed anyway, leaning forward, shivering from the cold, from the wet as she worked, sobbing.

  Corky’s dead.

  I’m not doing any good. I have to stop.

  I have to stop. I have to get home. I have to tell someone.

  Pushed and released. Pushed and released. Even though it was too late.

  Corky groaned as the murky water poured out of her mouth.

  She stirred. Coughed. Opened her eyes.

  And saw only dirt. Tall grass. Her face was down in the dirt, her eyes covered with a film of water.

  She blinked. Choked. Putrid brown water spilled over her chin.

  “Corky! Corky!”

  Where was the voice coming from?

  Corky raised her head. She turned to see a girl on her knees beside her.

  “Kimmy!”

  Kimmy smiled down at her. “You’re alive!”

  “Kimmy—you’re okay!”

  Kimmy tried to reply, but tears choked her words.

  Corky coughed. Her mouth tasted sour. She reached up to brush the matted hair off her forehead. The rain pounded down around them, over them. Neither girl seemed to notice.

  “I’m so cold,” Corky finally said, shuddering.

  Kimmy helped her to sit up. “I thought you were dead,” Kimmy said, shivering too.

  Corky didn’t seem to hear her. She sat up and gazed wide-eyed around her, ignoring the rain. After a long while she climbed unsteadily to her feet. “Let’s go.”

  “I’ll help you.” Kimmy wrapped an arm around Corky’s trembling shoulders.

  “I’m alive,” Corky said, still dazed. “I’m alive and you’re alive.”

  “Yes,” Kimmy said, and smiled. Slowly she started to lead Corky up the trail to the top of the cliff.

  “Oh!” Corky uttered a frightened cry and pointed back at the water. “Look.”

  Corky turned from her friend, back to the dark waters. Something stirred near the shore. She took a reluctant step closer, squinting against the rain.

  A light spot in the water. A circle of light.

  And inside it, a reflection.

  A face.

  Corky stared hard, trembling, breathing hard.

  It’s Bobbi’s face, she realized.

  It’s Bobbi’s face in the water.

  It’s Bobbi.

  And she’s smiling.

  Corky stared, smiling back, until the reflection broke into tiny pinpoints of light. Bobbi’s smiling face dimmed and then shimmered away.

  Feeling peaceful, Corky turned back to Kimmy. “Let’s go home.”

  Arm in arm they began to make their way up the cliff through the cool, cleansing rain.

  Epilogue

  “Tigers, let’s score! Six points and more! Tigers, let’s score! Six points and more!”

  The cheers rang out through the gym. Corky had done this chant a million times. But now it seemed fresh and new.

  “That sounds great!” Miss Green exclaimed from the sidelines.

  Even she notices the difference, Corky thought.

  She flashed Kimmy a smile as the girls got into position for the pyramid. “Don’t drop me,” Corky teased.

  “Who—me?” Kimmy replied with exaggerated innocence.

  Corky made her way to the top.

  “Liberties! In rhythm!” Miss Green called, gripping the whistle around her neck.

  The six cheerleaders obediently struck the well-practiced pose.

  “Excellent!” Miss Green said. “Straighten your back, Ronnie.”

  Time for my jump, thought Corky. She glanced down at Kimmy.

  Her throat tightened. A moment of panic.

  Then she stepped off.

  Kimmy caught her easily.

  “Perfect!” Miss Green declared.

  The girls all cheered.

  “Way to go!” Hannah slapped Corky on the back.

  “Are you putting on weight?” Kimmy teased.

  After practice Corky, Kimmy, Ronnie, and Debra squeezed into a booth at The Corner, all four of them talking at once. One of the basketball players had told Ronnie a dirty joke she couldn’t wait to share. Corky laughed hard at Ronnie’s joke even though she’d heard it before. Debra had news about Gary Brandt’s new girlfriend. Kimmy wanted to discuss how she should have her hair cut on Saturday.

  The waitress stood impatiently, tapping her pencil against her pad, waiting for the four friends to stop talking so she could take their order.

  “I’ll just have a Coke,” Debra said finally.

  “Me too,” Kimmy said. “A Coke and an order of fries.”

  The waitress turned her attention to Corky.

  “Know what I have a craving for?” Corky asked Kimmy, peering at her over the top of the menu.

  Kimmy shrugged. “No. What?”

  “Pea soup,” Corky said softly.

  “No way!” her three companions shouted in unison.

  “I’ll have a burger and fries,” Corky told the waitress.

  All four girls collapsed in riotous laughter.

  The waitress headed back to the kitchen, shaking her head, wondering what on earth could be funny about pea soup….

  About the Author

  “Where do you get your ideas?”

  That’s the question that R.L. Stine is asked most often. “I don’t know where my ideas come from,” he says. “But I do know that I have a lot more scary stories in my mind that I can’t wait to write.”

  So far, he has written over a hundred mysteries and thrillers for young people, all of them best-sellers.

  Bob grew up in Columbus, Ohio. Today he lives in an apartment near Central Park in New York City with his wife, Jane.

 


 

  R.L. Stine, The Third Evil

 


 

 
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