Camp Fear Ghouls (7 page)

“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 and 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.

C
rack!

“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!”

I shoved her flashlight away from my face. “Caroline, you were the one who wanted to come on this camp-out. Are you saying you want to go home now?”

“No, I am not,” Caroline snapped.

We pointed our lights in front of us. Gnarled trees blocked our way. Thorny vines hung down from twisted branches and caught at our hair.

“Yeow!” Caroline cried as a branch whipped her in the face.

We walked so close together, we stepped on each other's feet. My eyes were open wide as I stared into the darkness.

Just ahead, something moved through the trees.

I locked my knees. “Did you see that?”

“Yes. What do you think it was?” Caroline whispered, barely moving her lips.

“I don't know,” I groaned. “Let's just find the campsite.”

Caroline held out the map and we focused our lights on the yellowed paper. “I think we're supposed to look for a stream,” she murmured.

I flashed my beam in a circle around us. “I don't see a stream, do you?” I asked.

“No,” Caroline replied.

Something crashed through the trees to our right.

“M-maybe we
should
forget about this camp-out,” Caroline said in a shaky voice. “Maybe we
should
just go home.”

“Well—okay,” I agreed. I didn't want to sound too eager. But boy, was I glad Caroline changed her mind!

We turned and started back the way we came.

A few more feet, and we'll be back on Fear Street, I thought. But when I flashed my light around, I couldn't see anything but trees! And nothing looked familiar!

“Caroline,” I whispered. “We must have gone the wrong way. I don't know where we are.”

Caroline squeezed my hand and whimpered.

Then I heard a bubbling sound. Water! Running water!

“The stream! I think I hear it, Caroline,” I told her.

We hurried forward. Branches tore at our clothes. I could hear Caroline grumbling about it. But I didn't care. I just wanted to find the campsite. Even the Camp Fear Girls weren't as creepy as this forest!

When we reached the stream, I checked the map again.

“What does it say? Where do we go now?” Caroline asked.

I squinted at the map. “I can't tell. It's all smudged.”

“A light!” Caroline cried suddenly. “I see a light!”

I glanced up. She was right! Off in the distance I could just make out a faint yellow glow.

Crack!
Again the sound of something moving behind us.

This time it wasn't a twig. It sounded more like a big branch. And something huge must have made it break.

No way was I turning around to find out.

“Run for it!” I screamed to Caroline. “Now!”

We took off toward the yellow light.

My pulse thundered in my ears. Brambles jabbed at me. But I didn't stop.

The light grew brighter as we ran closer.

I could see it now. A campfire!

A warm yellow campfire. In a little clearing. And girls sitting around it!

I tripped over a tree root and fell to my knees just in front of the fire.

Caroline fell next to me, gasping for breath.

Our faces were flushed. Sweat poured from my forehead as I raised my head.

The Camp Fear Girls loomed over us. They stared at Caroline and me as if we were totally nuts.

Priscilla, who was holding a guitar, spoke first. “Hey, you guys made it. Why are you so out of breath?”

I pressed my hand against my chest. It burned from running so hard. “I think someone was following us through the woods.”

“Yeah. Me.” Amy stepped out of the woods and into the clearing. “I saw you two back by the creek. But when I tried to catch up with you, you bolted. Are you guys on the track team, or what? You're fast!”

I glanced at Caroline. She stared back at me. Then she let out a giggle. Boy, did we feel silly!

“We got lost and I guess—well, we both freaked out,” I explained. “We're not used to the woods.”

“Hey, don't worry about it,” Trudy told us as she pounded a tent stake into the ground. “The Fear Street Woods do that to a lot of people. But you'll get used to it.”

“We did.” Violet added, stirring up the campfire.

I stood up and took a closer look around the clearing. Several of the girls were making S'mores—roasted marshmallows, graham crackers, and chocolate. Priscilla was strumming her guitar. Amy had gathered wildflowers from the woods.

It all looked totally normal. Nothing creepy going on.

Maybe the Camp Fear Girls
were
just an ordinary
scout troop. The missing house on Fear Street, the way the Camp Fear Girls ignored me when I asked about Pearl—maybe I had imagined all that.

Violet handed me a S'more. “Caroline's will be ready in a minute. Make yourselves comfortable,” she told us. “In a few minutes Amy is going to lead story time.”

“Okay.” I nodded and bit into the S'more. Mmmm! It was perfect—warm and gooshy and chocolaty. I started to relax. Maybe the camp-out was going to be fun after all!

I sat down by Caroline. She was checking out a nasty scrape she got on her knee.

Amy was stacking kindling nearby. “Where's Pearl?” I asked her. “I'd like Caroline to meet her.”

Amy cocked her head and frowned. “Pearl? I don't know anyone named Pearl.”

Was she kidding? I tried a laugh. “Oh, come on,” I joked. “You know Pearl. Long brown braids. Purple sash.”

Amy stared me straight in the eye. “There's no one in this troop named Pearl,” she stated. She walked off to collect more kindling.

Uh-oh. A knot formed in my chest.

“Priscilla, where is Pearl?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

Priscilla glanced at the other girls, and then shrugged. “Who's Pearl?”

I stood up and pulled Caroline away from the fire.

“Listen,” I whispered. “This is very weird. I
know
there was a Pearl in this group. I met her!”

“Maybe you got her name wrong,” Caroline said. “I mean, it happens sometimes.”

“No!” I insisted. “I
didn't.
Something
really
strange is going on here. I—”

“Oh, stop it,” Caroline interrupted. “Look around. Everyone's having a great time. Why can't you just have fun? What is wrong with you?”

Is
something wrong with me? I wondered again. Am I going crazy?

“Caroline—” I tried one more time.

“Story time,” Priscilla called.

“Come on, let's go.” Caroline led me back to the fire. Amy perched on a rock behind her. Trudy sat beside me.

Then Amy stood up. “One hundred years ago today, a troop of scouts went into the Fear Street Woods on a camping trip.”

I knew this story. I heard it at my first meeting. I guessed they were repeating it now because Caroline was new to the group.

“The girls were going to be gone for only one night,” Amy went on. “But they disappeared into the woods . . . and never returned.”

Hey. Wait a minute.
Pearl
was the one who told me the story at the first meeting. She
had
to exist. I couldn't have imagined her!

“Rumor has it that the girls were turned into
hideous monsters,” Amy continued in an eerie voice. “And they still roam Shadyside to this day. They have rotting skin and eyeballs that fall out of their sockets.” Amy seemed to really enjoy her gruesome description.

As she spoke, I made out a shadowy figure with a hideous face tiptoeing up behind Caroline.

Here comes the part where they scare Caroline with the rubber monster mask, I realized.

Amy's voice sank almost to a whisper. “If one of them ever approaches you,” she warned, “
beware!
Because they are now the Camp Fear
Ghouls!”

The shadowy figure placed her hand on Caroline's shoulder.

Caroline turned and screamed.

I burst out laughing.

Then Trudy put her hand on my right shoulder.

I turned to laugh with her.

And gasped.

Trudy's face! It was horrible!

Her flesh was rotting. A jagged bone poked through a hole in her cheek. Green pus oozed from the hole and dripped down her face.

It's just a mask, I reminded myself.

I reached out to pull the mask off Trudy's face. But my fingers sank deep into soft, putrid flesh.

It
wasn't
a mask.

Trudy was really a monster!

“H
elp!” I screamed frantically.

I searched the faces around the campfire.