by R. L. Stine
She sounded so frightened, so desperately frightened. “Well …” Why was he hesitating? Was it because of the first whispered call telling him to stay away from her?
“Please—come quickly,” she pleaded. “Meet me on the corner of Fear Street, just past my house.”
She sounded frightened. But her tiny, breathy voice also made her sound very sexy. The chill Cory felt now wasn’t entirely fear. It was mixed with excitement.
He looked across the room at his alarm clock. It was one thirty-seven. Was he really seriously considering sneaking out and meeting this strange, frightened girl on Fear Street in the middle of the night?
“Please, Cory,” she whispered, now more enticing than frightened. “I need you.”
“Okay,” he said, not recognizing his own voice, not sure it was him saying the word.
“Hurry,” she whispered, and the line clicked off.
He listened to the silent phone for a few seconds, trying to figure out if he was awake or dreaming this. Had Anna Corwin really just called and begged him to meet her? He had been thinking about her, searching for her all week. Was it possible that she had been thinking about him at the same time?
The idea was more than a little exciting. But why had she sounded so frightened, so frantic for him to come at once? And why did she want him to meet her out on the street?
The street.
Fear Street.
Cory had started to pull on his jeans, but he stopped as he remembered where Anna lived, where she wanted to meet.
“I’m sixteen years old,” he told himself. “I’m not a child. There’s no reason for me to be afraid of a silly street.” But he had to admit that the idea of waiting alone for someone on Fear Street in the middle of the night was pretty frightening.
He suddenly remembered another Fear Street story in the newspaper, this one from the previous spring. Two cars going in opposite directions on Fear Street late at night had collided head-on. A Fear Street resident heard the crash, ran out in his pajamas, saw that both cars were filled with badly injured people. Some of them were unconscious. Some were pinned inside the crushed cars.
He ran back to his house and called the police. The police arrived less than ten minutes later. They found the cars crushed together in the middle of the street. But both cars were empty. There was dark blood on the seats and blood on the street. But all the passengers had disappeared without a trace.
No sign of them was ever found. Six people, six injured people, who had been trapped inside two cars, vanished in less than ten minutes. …
Cory finished getting dressed. He knew he had no choice. He had to go. He had to go to her. She needed him.
Sneaking down the steps to the front hallway, he tripped in the darkness and nearly fell. He grabbed the banister and steadied himself, hoping his parents hadn’t heard. Taking a deep breath, he continued down the stairs. He groped around until he found the car keys on the counter in the entranceway. Then he silently let himself out of the house.
He zipped his down jacket against the cold and jogged to the car. He put the car in neutral and let it glide down the drive. Then he started it in the street as far from the house as he could get it. “I’m getting pretty good at sneaking around,” he told himself. “But why am I doing this?”
Because Anna’s in trouble.
He turned down Mill Road and headed south toward Fear Street. Clouds had covered the moon, and the streetlamps cast only dim light on this narrow, old street. He put on the brights just in time to see a large gray animal scamper out onto the highway.
Whump.
There wasn’t time to slow down. A single bump told him he had run over it. He looked in the rear view mirror but couldn’t see anything. He slowed for a few seconds, then decided to keep going. Nothing he could do about it now.
He suddenly felt sick. What was it anyway? A raccoon? A badger? It was too big to be a rabbit. It might have been an opossum. He wondered if it was stuck to his tire. Yuck. He forced himself to think about Anna.
There were no other cars on Mill Road. He passed a few trucks going the other way, their headlights causing him to squint and look away.
A swirling wind seemed to come up the moment he turned onto Fear Street. The wind pressed against the front of the car. The car held back, as if it didn’t want to go here.
The inside of the windshield had steamed up, and he struggled to see. He slowed down as he passed Simon Fear’s burned-out mansion. Bare trees rattled and creaked in the wind, their low branches scraping at one another.
He stopped and wiped the windshield with a rag he found in the glove compartment. Now the glass was smeared, but he could see a little better.
He passed the Convins’ house. It was completely dark. He stopped and stared at it, looking for any sign of life. But there was none.
Had the call been someone playing a joke? Had he driven here for nothing?
No. It was Anna. He recognized her voice. And she sounded too frightened for it to be a joke.
He pulled to the curb at the corner. The wind rushed through the trees. Leaves swirled and scattered over the street. He turned off the lights but left the engine running.
“May be I should get out of the car,” he told himself. “She might not be able to find me if I stay in here.”
But he remembered his last visit to Fear Street, the strange neighbor, the animal howls, and he decided to wait inside the car. He switched off the engine. Then he switched it on again. “I’ll play the radio. At least it will drown out the dreadful wailing of the wind.” But then he remembered it might drain the battery. He didn’t want to be stuck at two in the morning on Fear Street with a car that wouldn’t start. He turned the engine off again.
The passenger door swung open.
He started to scream.
chapter 10
“Anna!”
“Hi, Cory,” she whispered shyly, sliding next to him on the front seat. She was wrapped in an old-fashioned lacy gray shawl. Her hair was wild and unbrushed, and her blue eyes sparkled with excitement in the glimmer of light inside the car. Then she pulled the car door closed and the light faded.
“You frightened me,” he said, turning to look at her.
She gave him an odd smile, almost a devilish smile. Or was it just the dim light? He couldn’t see her very well.
“Why did you call me? What’s the matter?”
She slid closer. She was almost touching him. The wind shifted directions. Leaves blew up against the car windows, making it even darker.
“Cory, you’re the only one who can help me,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. She was trembling slightly, as if she were holding back her fear, struggling to keep herself together. “You’re the only one who talks to me.”
“Where’ve you been all week?” he blurted out. “I looked for you.”
She seemed surprised. She turned and looked to the rear window. It was entirely steamed up. She rubbed the side window next to her with her hand, making a clear peephole.
“Were you sick? Are you okay?” Cory asked.
She smiled at him again.
“I—I was at your house before,” he said. “I wanted to talk to you.” He realized he must sound crazy to her. The words just poured out. He didn’t seem to have any control over what he was saying.
He was so glad to see her, so excited. It was exciting that she had called him, that he had come to her in the middle of the night, that they were having this secret meeting. But what was it all about? Why wasn’t she answering any of his questions?
“Are you in trouble?” he asked. “Is there anything I can do? I was thinking about you this week. Actually, I’ve been thinking about you ever since that day in the lunchroom.”
The lunchroom. Why did he have to bring that horrible occasion up? How embarrassing!
“Really?” she said. “I was thinking about you too.” She peered out through the small circle she had made on the window.
“Is someone following you
?” he asked. “Is someone out there?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know.”
“Your family said—they told me you were—” Oh, no! Here he was, blurting it out. Why couldn’t he control himself? Why was he talking so crazily?
He hated being so out of control. As a gymnast, he practiced keeping every muscle in control. Now he couldn’t even control his mouth!
“I—I just need to know if you’re real!” he heard himself saying.
The words seemed to surprise her. A smile slowly spread over her face, a sly smile. “I’m real,” she whispered, staring into his eyes. “I’ll show you.”
She reached both hands up suddenly and grabbed the back of his head. Her hands were hot despite the cold of the night. She pulled his face down to hers and pushed her lips against his.
Her lips were soft and warm. Her mouth opened a little, then closed. She kissed him harder, still holding his head.
He struggled to breathe. She pressed harder, uttering a soft sigh. It was the most exciting kiss, more exciting than in any dream he had ever had. He wanted it to last forever. It appeared that it just might.
She kissed him harder. He was startled by how needy she seemed. She gripped the back of his neck and pressed her lips even closer.
Cory couldn’t believe how lucky he was. “Is this really happening to me?” he asked himself. He tried to slip his arms around her, but there was no room to move from behind the steering wheel.
She kissed him, pushing her lips at his, until the kiss really hurt. Then she pulled her mouth away from his. She slid her warm lips across his cheek and up to his ear. He felt her warm, steady breath against his cheek.
She whispered something. “You’re all mine now.”
Is that what it was? Did he hear her correctly?
You’re all mine now?
No. That couldn’t be it. He didn’t hear it.
“Do you believe I’m real now?” she asked, her hands still on the back of his neck.
He tried to reply, but no sound came out.
She laughed, a surprisingly loud laugh that startled them both. They had both been so quiet up till now.
The wind shifted again. Large brown maple leaves blew hard against the windshield as if trying to break in. Somewhere nearby an animal howled.
She let go of him and settled back in the seat, a pleased expression on her face. He could still feel her lips on his, still taste her, still feel the pressure of her face against his.
They didn’t say anything for what seemed a long, long while. Finally he broke the silence. “Why did you call me, Anna?”
He didn’t really want her to answer. What he wanted was for her to kiss him again like that. And again. And again.
“You sounded so frightened,” he said, reaching for her hand but not finding it.
She smiled at him, this time a guilty smile. “I just wanted to see if you’d come,” she said. She looked away. She started rubbing a fresh peephole in the window.
“You—you weren’t in trouble?”
She didn’t look at him. “I knew you’d come,” she said. “I just knew it.”
He stared at the back of her head, at her golden hair which fell in long tangles over the gray shawl.
He wanted to kiss her again. He wanted to wrap his arms around her. He wanted to feel her hands on the back of his neck again. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “That’s why you called? You just wanted me to come here?”
She turned around, her face expressionless. She looked at him but didn’t say anything.
“When I was at your house, a guy answered the door.” He had to ask her about it. He just had to. He knew she was real now. So why did her family say she was dead?
“My brother. Brad,” she answered, still expressionless. She stared straight ahead at the clouded windshield.
“When I asked for you, he got real upset. He said you didn’t live there.”
“Brad’11 say anything,” she whispered, still staring straight ahead at the fogged windshield.
“But he—”
“Please don’t make me tell you about Brad. He—he’s. Don’t make me say any more. Just stay out of his way. He—he can be dangerous.” Her whole body shook when she said that word.
“He told me you were dead!” Cory blurted out.
For a brief second her eyes grew wide with surprise. Then she pulled the door handle, pushed open the door, and jumped out of the car.
Cory made a grab for her. But she was already gone. He threw open his door and climbed out. The wind blew a clump of leaves onto the legs of his jeans. “Anna!” he called to her. But he knew he hadn’t shouted loudly enough to be heard over the wind.
He started to run after her, but she had disappeared into the darkness. “Anna!” he called one more time. But she was gone.
The wind seemed to grow stronger. The tree limbs above his head rattled like bones as the dry leaves circled and spun at his feet.
He tasted blood on his lips. He was filled with longing, longing to understand her, longing to know why she had run away, why she wouldn’t answer his questions, why she was so terrified of her brother, longing for more kisses.
He was only a few feet from the car when something big and powerful leapt onto his shoulders from behind.
chapter 11
“Cory—wake up! Come on!”
“Huh?”
“Wake up! Get out of bed! Do I have to get a crane to pull you up?”
“Huh?”
“I’ve been trying to wake you for ten minutes. What’s your problem? Didn’t you sleep last night?” His mother grabbed his shoulder and started to shake him.
“Ow!” The shoulder throbbed with pain. He jerked it away from her. It was all starting to come back to him. His shoulder hurt because the gigantic dog had jumped on it.
“Cory—come on. You’ve got a gymnastics meet in two hours. You’d better wake up.” His mother was more amused than annoyed. She’d never had this much trouble waking him before.
Of course, he had never spent half the night on Fear Street before. He thought of Anna’s kiss.
“What are you smiling about? Cory—you’re acting downright weird this morning.”
“Sorry, Mom. G’morning.” He tried to clear his brain. He smiled at her, only his mouth wouldn’t cooperate and it came out all crooked. He tried to look normal. He didn’t want her to ask a million questions. If only his back and shoulders weren’t killing him.
“What day is it?”
“Saturday,” she said, turning to leave.
“Saturday? The meet against Farmingville is today!”
“Didn’t 1 just say that, or am 1 losing my mind too?”
He sat up in bed with a loud groan. She turned around and looked at him. “Hurry downstairs before your breakfast gets cold.”
“What’s for breakfast?”
“Cornflakes.”
They both laughed. It was one of their favorite jokes.
After she left, he carefully pulled off his pajama top and surveyed the damage to his shoulders. They were just badly scratched. That huge Doberman, Voltaire, had pounced on him as if he were a mouse.
The whole scene with all its horror replayed itself in his mind. He heard the low growls again, felt the dog’s hot breath on the back of his head, and then felt the jolt of the giant paws bearing down on his shoulders, pushing him to the ground, pinning him down, the dog’s massive jaws snapping loudly as it snarled over him.
It seemed to him he was down on the ground for hours before the strange neighbor in the gray slicker had arrived. “Get down, Voltaire. Sit, boy,” he had said calmly, with no emotion at all. The dog obeyed immediately, backing away, silent except for its heavy, excited panting. “You back again,? son?”
The guy didn’t even apologize. He just stared at Cory suspiciously as Cory slowly, painfully, pulled himself to his feet with a loud groan.
“Visiting the Corwins, were you?” the man asked, petting the Doberman’s
slender black head as if to congratulate him on a job well done.
“I—uh … I was just leaving,” Cory stammered, his heart heaving in his chest, his shoulders aching, his head spinning.
“Most folks don’t come around Fear Street in the middle of the night,” the man said, his expression as unrevealing as ever. It sounded like a threat to Cory.
Cory didn’t reply. Somehow he managed to climb into his car, start the engine, and drive away. The man and dog stood watching until Cory was out of sight.
What was going on here? Cory wondered. Why was that weird guy always there when Cory parked near the Convins’ house? Had he been watching for Cory? Was he really a neighbor? Was he spying on Anna?
It’s her crazy brother Brad wearing a disguise!
“Get real!” he had scolded himself.
But who was he?
Now it was the next morning, and he was less than two hours away from the Farmingville meet. He looked at his scratched-up shoulders in the mirror. How was he going to explain them to Coach Welner? How was he ever going to get up on the rings? He swung his arms around, testing them. Not too bad. Maybe he could work out the ache. Maybe they’d be flexible enough to perform.
He got dressed quickly, pulling on a clean pair of jeans and a fresh sweatshirt, and hurried down to breakfast. He decided to get to the gym early and work out, do some stretching exercises. He’d be fine.
He thought of Anna. How soft she was, how warm. At least he had proven that she was alive. Wow! Was she alive!
Yeah. He’d be fine, Cory decided. He’d be perfectly fine.
Disgustedly, Cory tossed a towel over his shoulder. He started pacing behind the team bench and bumped right into Lisa. “Ow!” she cried, rubbing her shoulder. “Watch where you’re going.”
“Hey—what are you doing here? There’s a meet going on,” Cory said.
“Really? How would you know?” she cracked.
“Give me a break. Did you come here just to insult me?” Cory asked glumly. He picked up his pace.
