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Deep Trouble (9780545405768)

Page 8

by R. L. Stine


  “They didn’t have TV in those days, right?” I joked.

  But when I pictured the hungry rats gnawing on some poor guy, I felt a little sick.

  “So all the pirates drowned when the ship went down?” Sheena asked.

  Dr. D nodded. “The pirates drowned. The rats drowned. And the treasure sank with them.”

  He set the papers on the table and squeezed Sheena’s hand. “And there’s one more part to the story. A very creepy part.” He stopped as if he didn’t want to tell us. We waited, our eyes locked on his. “Tell us,” I said. “Please. Tell us!”

  5

  Dr. D hesitated. I could see he was thinking hard.

  “Well …” he said finally. “According to legend, the Scarlet Skull is haunted. Long Ben prowls the sunken ship — always awake, always alert — to protect the treasure.”

  I gasped.

  But Sheena laughed. “Uncle George, you don’t believe in ghosts — do you?”

  Dr. D gazed back at her through his thick glasses. He didn’t reply.

  “Do you?” Sheena insisted. “Do you really believe in ghosts?”

  “He … he’s not a ghost,” Dr. D muttered. “According to the legend, he’s a zombie.”

  And suddenly in my mind, sounding so distant, so far away, I heard a soft, evil whisper: “I’m waiting for you … I’m waiting.”

  Did Sheena and Dr. D see me shiver?

  I don’t think they noticed.

  Of course, the whispered voice was only in my mind. My wild imagination taking off again. I was sitting there scaring MYSELF!

  This is the perfect mission for the Undersea Mutant, I told myself. Zombie pirates in a sunken treasure ship. Awesome!

  So why did my stomach suddenly feel as if I’d swallowed a huge rock?

  “Tell us the truth,” my sister said, pressing our uncle. “Zombies — true or false?”

  That made Dr. D smile. “I’m a scientist,” he said. “I study the real world. I don’t believe in zombie pirates.”

  The Cassandra bounced hard on the waves. We tilted forward, then back. I gripped the edge of the table to steady myself.

  I glanced out the galley porthole. In the distance, I could see islands of dark, craggy rocks and tall purple cliffs.

  “I don’t believe in zombies,” Dr. D repeated. “But I have been fascinated by this mystery for years. And if we can find the ship, I can study the natural causes. I can determine what really made that ship go down.”

  Dr. D jumped up. He collected our plastic dishes and dropped them into the tiny galley sink. “Come on,” he said. “I want to show you something.”

  He led us up to the main deck and around to the starboard side. Normally, he keeps a small dinghy tethered to the side — a little boat for going onshore on islands.

  “Whoa!” I let out a startled cry. In place of the dinghy, a tiny submarine floated beside the Cassandra.

  “It’s my own design,” Dr. D said. “Cute, huh? I call it the Deep Diver.”

  My heart was racing. Were we really going down to the bottom of the ocean in this little sub?

  I leaned over the rail and studied it. It looked like a toy. Shaped like a real submarine. Bright yellow metal with a narrow hatch on top, big enough for only one person at a time.

  I saw round glass portholes in front, back, and on both sides. Two big headlights in front. Twin thrusters at the back.

  “The three of us should fit okay,” Dr. D said. “It’ll be a snug ride. My little sub won’t go long distances. But it’ll take us down to the sunken ship — if we find it. And it has a little speed. I can get it up to five knots if I really push it.”

  Another dangerous mission for the Undersea Mutant! I thought.

  I imagined myself in a furious sword fight with a zombie pirate. Then I saw myself swimming away in victory, pulling a huge treasure chest brimming with jewels behind me.

  Actually, I felt a little shaky. I had a fluttering feeling in my stomach. I couldn’t help it. I was scared. The Deep Diver looked so small and fragile.

  I imagined it being swallowed by an enormous shark. Then I shut my eyes and I imagined a deafening crash. Shattered glass. I pictured a GREAT GREEN EEL crashing through a porthole!

  It had me in its teeth! It wrapped its tongue around me. I was about to become eel food!

  WHOA! BILLY — STOP!

  Yes, I could dream up crazy adventures all day long.

  But even with my great imagination, I couldn’t dream up the real horrors that awaited us at the bottom of the ocean.

  It all started the next afternoon.

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  MONSTER BLOOD

  THE HAUNTED MASK

  ONE DAY AT HORRORLAND

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  Copyright

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without written permission of the publisher. For information regarding permission, write to Scholastic Inc., Attention: Permissions Department, 557 Broadway, New York, NY 10012.

  Goosebumps book series created by Parachute Press, Inc.

  Copyright © 1994 by Scholastic Inc.

  Cover design by Steve Scott

  Cover art by Brandon Dorman

  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, May 2008

  “Behind the Screams” bonus material by Matthew D. Payne

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  e-ISBN: 978-0-545-40576-8

 

 

 


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