They Call Me the Night Howler!

by R. L. Stine

  Walter the Mutant waited behind the stairwell. He adjusted his mask. “Are you ready, George? I’m going to drown in sweat.”

  “Almost ready,” George said, still working at his phone.

  “Don’t wake me. I’m going to sleep for real,” Mickey said. He was tucked in up to his chin.

  “Ready,” George finally announced. He raised his phone. “Okay. I’m going to count off, ‘One … two … three … Action.’ You guys start sleeping. And don’t laugh or anything. Make it look real.”

  “I’m going to walk in from here,” Walter said from the stairway. “I’m going to come in slow, like a mutant checking out his prey. George will give you a signal when it’s time for you to sit up and scream.”

  So Mickey, Alonso, and I shut our eyes and settled back in our sleeping bags. George counted down to Action. I heard Walter begin to shuffle into the scene.

  And suddenly I heard a long, low buzz coming from one of the backpacks.

  The Night Howler signal!

  My heart skipped a beat. I sat straight up.

  “Cut! CUT!” George screamed. He lowered his phone. “Mason—you ruined it. It looked awesome and you ruined it. You sat up too soon.”

  “S-sorry,” I stammered. “I thought you gave the signal.”

  Mickey and Alonso shook their heads and laughed. “Smooth move, Mason,” Alonso said.

  I heard the buzz again from my phone.

  “Okay. Take two,” George said. “This time, wait for my signal, Mason.”

  “I … can’t,” I said. My heart was pounding. “I have to go.” I scrambled out of my sleeping bag.

  Cries of surprise all around.

  “You can’t go. We need to finish the scene,” Walter said.

  “What’s your problem? You feel sick?” George demanded.

  “Uh … yeah. Sick,” I said. “Sorry, guys.”

  I stepped over Alonso in his sleeping bag and crossed to the pile of backpacks on the floor. I shoved a couple of them out of the way and grabbed mine.

  I had to get away from them and climb into my costume. I had to find out where my mission was.

  “No need to call my parents,” I said. “I’m just going to walk home. Maybe the fresh air—”

  Mickey burst up beside me. “That’s my backpack, Mason. You got the wrong one.”

  “No,” I insisted. “You’re wrong.”

  He swiped the backpack out of my hands. “I’ll show you.”

  “No—! Give it back!” I cried.

  The zipper made a loud buzz as Mickey tugged it open all the way. He tilted the backpack upside down. And everything came tumbling to the floor.

  “Oops. My bad,” Mickey said. “It is yours.”

  I gasped. My costume spread out at my feet. I bent to grab it up. But Mickey was already staring at it.

  “What’s that?” he cried. He lifted the costume top with the NH insignia on the front and held it up for everyone to see. “Check this out!”

  Too late to grab it and try to hide it.

  My breath caught in my throat.

  George hurried over to us. “I recognize that,” he said. “That’s the costume the Night Howler wears.”

  I’m dead meat.

  I’m done.

  It’s over.

  “Whoa. Mason, did you get that at the comic art museum?” Alonso asked.

  I nodded. “Yes. That’s where I got it.”

  Now I really did feel sick.

  George raised the tights in front of him. “Is it spandex or what?”

  “I guess.” I sighed. “I don’t know.”

  “We can use it in the video,” Walter said. He tugged off the monster mask. His face was bright red and dripping with sweat. “Totally cool. The Night Howler can battle the mutant.”

  I didn’t reply. I seriously felt like bursting into tears.

  Cory, the old Night Howler, had trusted me. He trusted me with the secret of the Night Howler. And the powers that came with the costume.

  I had let him down.

  I’d let the world down.

  And now the useless costume was going to be used in a dumb YouTube video.

  I had to bite my lip really hard to keep from sobbing.

  But then I had an idea.

  “It’s only pajamas,” I said. “Not a real costume.”

  Mickey spread the dark cape out between his hands. “Pajamas don’t have capes,” he said.

  “It’s a bonus thing,” I said. “You get the cape when you buy the pajamas.”

  George handed the tights to me. “Yeah. Feels like pajamas,” he said. “Why’d you buy it?”

  “Uh … I didn’t,” I said. “It was kind of a gift.”

  Not a lie.

  “Quick. Put it on,” Walter said. “This will be awesome. The mutant creeps into the basement. He plans to devour Alonso and Mickey in their sleeping bags. But the Night Howler arrives to rescue them.”

  “Cool,” George said. “We’ll work up some kind of battle between the two of you. I can add the SFX and sound effects later.”

  Alonso reached down and lifted the mask off the floor. “The pajamas come with a mask? Weird.”

  “Never mind,” Walter said. “Put it on, Mason. Let’s do it!”

  I had no choice. I had to put the costume on. But as I scrambled into it, my brain whirred with questions.

  Will the costume still hold its powers?

  Did I really fool them? Do they all believe it’s just pajamas?

  How do I get out of here? I have to find where my mission is.

  I adjusted the cape around my shoulders and pulled the mask into place.

  “Looking good, dude,” Alonso said, stepping back to admire the costume. “It looks so real, Mason. Not like nerdy pajamas at all.”

  It feels real, too, I thought.

  I could feel a gentle current rolling through the top.

  So far, so good.

  “You stand over there,” George said. He pointed to a corner of the room. “Mickey and Alonso, sleep. The mutant walks in, ready to attack them. Then I’ll give you a signal to come running into the scene.”

  I took a deep breath. I felt the power of the costume begin to surge.

  “Why are you standing there?” George demanded. “Get moving, Mason.”

  “I don’t think so,” I said.

  I raised my right arm. I moved my fingers in a slow rhythm.

  And watched the dark cloud form over the basement ceiling.

  YES!

  I moved the cloud across the room and lowered it over my friends. They were lost in the deep shadow. I couldn’t see them. Then I motioned with both hands, like a symphony conductor. I motioned slowly, letting the power of the costume do its thing.

  Did I cloud their minds? If I did it correctly, they wouldn’t remember a thing when the cloud lifted. They wouldn’t even remember I was there.

  I watched for a few seconds, hoping my shadow cloud would work. Then I spun away and ran full speed up the basement steps.

  Feeling the power shoot through my body, I tore through the house and out the front door. Into a warm, starless night. The air was heavy and damp.

  “Okay, I’m ready for action!” I said. I grabbed my phone and read the message on the screen.

  Wreckage.

  The evil criminal named Wreckage was in my neighborhood.

  That’s what the message on my screen told me.

  Wreckage would be coming by any second. My job was to chase after him and capture him.

  I had read about Wreckage. He recently broke up with his partner, Damage. But he was still a member of the dangerous criminal club known as the Wrecking Crew.

  Wreckage and his pals didn’t care about getting rich. They only liked to wreck things.

  I tucked my phone into my costume as I heard the squeal of a car burst around the corner. That had to be him. Wreckage enjoyed wrecking all the cars he drove.

  The car sped past me, tires skidding on the street as it picked up speed.
I ducked my head, swept my cape behind me—and took off in the shadows. Running hard, carried by the dark mists, I caught up to the car.

  With a burst of speed, I leaped onto the back of his car. I pulled myself over the trunk and spread myself out over the roof.

  The car squealed around a corner.

  I gasped, feeling myself slide off the side. Grappling with both hands, I kept myself from falling.

  It was late. The streets of Fargo Hills were empty. The car swerved wildly from curb to curb. Wreckage was a terrible driver! Somehow I managed to climb to my knees. I balanced on the car roof, both hands out at my sides, like a tightrope walker.

  The hot wind battered me this way, then that. But I kept my balance and rode through the dark streets. I knew where Wreckage was headed. Downtown.

  But I didn’t know why until he spun the car into a wide parking spot. I held on with both hands as the car made a hard stop and crashed into the car parked in front of it.

  I jumped down, landed on my feet, and struggled to catch my breath. I shook my head hard, shaking away my dizziness.

  The car door slammed. I turned to see Wreckage run toward a darkened store. I raised my eyes to see the sign at the top of the door.

  MARK’S FINE JEWELRY.

  I heard the shattering of glass. Wreckage smashed through the glass door of the store. A robbery!

  I swept back my cape and took a deep breath. I felt the power of the costume pulsing through me.

  I tossed back my head and gave the Night Howler howl.

  “Aaaaaaaaawoooooooooooooh!”

  I grabbed the door carefully, trying to avoid the shards of broken glass, and burst into the jewelry store.

  A dim circle of light from the back of the store sent a faint glow over the rows of display cases. Wreckage bent over a glass case near the far wall, preparing to smash it with his fist—but he stopped when he saw me.

  “Night Howler!” he cried. “I’m going to wreck this store. Then I’m going to wreck you!”

  “You’re not wrecking anyone tonight,” I said. My voice sounded muffled in the small store. “This robbery isn’t going to happen.”

  A thin smile spread slowly across his face. “Yes, it is.”

  I took a few steps toward him. I realized my heart was pounding. I trusted the power of my costume. But I was still new at this. I didn’t know the best way to succeed. I was making it up as I went along.

  I raised my hand high to summon a dark shadow. I will trap him in the shadow cloud, I thought, and take him prisoner.

  But he had a surprise for me.

  A bad surprise.

  Wreckage grinned at me, his dark eyes flashing. “This robbery is going to happen, Night Howler. Because I am not alone!”

  I heard a cough. Then the shuffle of feet on the floor.

  An orange-costumed figure strode quickly out from the office at the back of the store. His face was covered in a tight orange mask that revealed only his eyes. His costume was tight, too, as if it had been painted on.

  As he stepped forward, his hands moved quickly. At first, I thought he was carrying a small fire, a burst of flames. But as he moved closer, I saw clearly what he had between his hands.

  Knives. Long-bladed knives. And the knives were on fire.

  He was juggling flaming knives!

  “Meet The Juggler!” Wreckage cried. “My talented new partner. He’s going to entertain you while I wreck the store and help myself to these lovely jewels.”

  “No way—” I started.

  But the Juggler stepped in front of me. The three knives flew in a circle around his moving hands. As he juggled them, he brought the flames closer and closer to my face.

  I tried to step back. But I bumped into a display case.

  The dazzling yellow flames were blinding me. I could hear Wreckage smashing display cases at the back of the store. But I couldn’t see past the fiery knives floating in front of me.

  Wreckage laughed. “The Juggler is an entertaining fellow, isn’t he, Night Howler? Are you enjoying his act?”

  “You won’t get away with this,” I said, blinking in the swirling bright yellow lights. I ducked my head as the flames swept over me.

  “Of course we will,” Wreckage said. I heard the clink of jewelry falling into his bag. “You have no power against the Juggler.”

  “Yes, I do,” I said. I reached out both hands—and took the knives from the Juggler. He cried out as I tossed them in rhythm, the same rhythm he had used.

  “Hey, wait—!” He couldn’t hide his surprise.

  I juggled the three flaming knives in front of his chest. He stumbled back. I kept the knives flying and forced him toward the back of the store.

  Wreckage looked up from the jewelry case, his eyes wide with surprise. “You juggle?”

  “I went to Circus Camp,” I said. “I’ve been juggling since I was six.”

  I tossed the knives to the floor and stomped on them to put out the flames. “You’re both dead meat,” I said.

  I raised my right hand and started to summon a dark cloud to trap them. But that’s when I heard running footsteps behind me. Startled, I gasped and spun around.

  And saw a blur of red race into the store. A woman in a bright red costume. Blinking, I stared at her red mask. And then I saw a blue insignia on the front of her costume.

  I recognized her. Blue Strawberry!

  The Juggler turned and scowled at her. “What kept you so long? He almost got us!”

  “Don’t move, Strawberry!” I cried. “These jewel thieves are my prisoners.”

  “You’re a peach, Night Howler,” she replied. “You’re so sweet. You don’t know when you’ve been sliced.”

  I knew I had to create a shadow cloud to hold all three of them. But was I too late?

  “You’re such a good guy,” Blue Strawberry said, her eyes flashing from behind her red mask. “I’m going to give you some dessert.”

  She raised both hands above her head. “Enjoy!”

  I felt something hit my shoulder. Something bounced off the top of my head.

  “Huh?” I raised my eyes and saw—fruit. Fruit falling from the ceiling.

  An apple. Then a bunch of bananas. A hard plum.

  I ducked and tried to cover my head. A storm of grapes rained down on me. So heavy and thick I couldn’t see.

  I tried to squirm out from under the barrage of fruit. But it all came down too fast and too hard.

  Oranges bounced in front of me. A melon crashed onto my shoulder and sent me collapsing to the floor.

  It sounded like thunder. A rainstorm of fruit piling up all around. And when it finally stopped—there was silence.

  I climbed slowly to my feet. I shook off my dizziness and stared at a tall wall of fruit.

  “Hey!” I shouted. “Hey—you can’t do this!”

  Of course, there was no reply.

  I lowered my shoulder and smashed forward, sending the fruit tumbling to the floor. Breathing hard, I stared around the store.

  Empty.

  The three criminals had escaped.

  I shook my head. And pictured Blue Strawberry in her red costume with the bright blue fruit on the front. And muttered, “Looks like the Night Howler has a new enemy.”

  Maybe Mason should give up the hero act and open a fruit store! Hahaha!

  When it comes to being a superhero, he’s definitely a lemon!

  How is he ever going to defeat a strawberry? He’s only a shortcake! Hahaha!

  Of course, he hasn’t faced Dr. Maniac yet.

  I’m sure he’ll easily defeat Dr. Maniac.

  Not!

  Hahahaha!

  I hurried home and quickly tucked the Night Howler costume back under the loose floorboard. I tried to go to sleep. But every time I closed my eyes, I saw a storm of fruit raining down on me.

  I was desperate to ask Cory, the old Night Howler, about Blue Strawberry. Did he know her, too? Did he have a way to defeat her tornado of fruit? Did he have any advice
at all for me?

  But Cory was gone. He left no way for me to contact him. No phone number. No way to send a message.

  He wanted me to be on my own, I guessed. And that’s the way I felt that night—totally on my own.

  The next day was Sunday. I played basketball on the playground court with Alonso and Mickey. They told me about the sleepover at George and Walter’s house.

  “Why weren’t you there?” Alonso asked me.

  “Uh … I felt sick last night,” I said. “Mom said I couldn’t go.”

  They didn’t remember a thing. At least I did that right.

  I should have felt great about having the awesome power to make people forget. But I couldn’t stop thinking about Wreckage and the Juggler, and what a horrible failure I was.

  Later at home, I had the strong feeling that Stella was watching me. Watching me more intensely than usual.

  Did she suspect something? Or was I just being paranoid again?

  I went upstairs to do a little homework. The door to my room was open. Had I left it open? I usually close it to keep Stella out.

  Of course, I couldn’t concentrate on my homework. I kept thinking about how my life had suddenly changed.

  I loved being a superhero. I’d had fantasies about being a superhero my whole life. When I was a tiny kid, I put a towel around my neck and pretended it was a cape. I threw myself down the stairs. I thought I was Superman. I thought I could fly.

  It was a painful lesson. But it didn’t stop me from dreaming.

  Yes, being a superhero was my dream job. And I didn’t want it to end. I didn’t want Stella finding out my secret and spoiling everything. Not Stella or anyone else.

  And I wanted a chance to be successful. I wanted a chance to triumph over evil.

  Wouldn’t you know it? My chance came that night.

  My phone buzzed. I reached for it and read the secret message:

  You have an appointment with Dr. Maniac tonight.

  The doctor is making a house call. Robbing a house on Forrest Hills Road.

  My hands shook as I held the phone close and stared at the words.

  My biggest challenge had come so soon.