by R. L. Stine
Contents
Title Page
Welcome. You Are Most Wanted.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Preview: Goosebumps® Most Wanted Special Edition: Zombie Halloween
About the Author
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Copyright
Come in. I’m R.L. Stine. Welcome to the Goosebumps office.
Please excuse the mess. I was pickling some pigs’ feet for my dinner. But I had trouble getting them into jars, since the feet were still on the pigs.
I had the same problem last week with lamb chops. I didn’t know you had to remove them from the lamb first!
I don’t really enjoy cooking. I just like to eat living things. I think it’s a lot more fun when your food is still moving — don’t you?
You are my second visitor today. This morning, my invisible friend came to visit. What a shame. I had to tell him I was too busy and I couldn’t see him.
I see you’re admiring the WANTED posters on the wall. Those posters show the creepiest, crawliest, grossest villains of all time. They are the MOST WANTED bad guys from the MOST WANTED Goosebumps books.
That poster you are studying is of Mrs. Maaargh. She’s a teacher. And yes, as you can see, she’s also a monster. That’s why her students call her Creature Teacher — but only behind her back.
A boy named Tommy Farrelly can tell you all about her.
Tommy met her at a very strange summer camp, a camp for winners. The problem is, Tommy may not ever return from this camp — unless he can find a way to pass Creature Teacher’s Final Exam.
Go ahead. Read Tommy’s story. You’ll soon find out why Creature Teacher is MOST WANTED.
My name is Tommy Farrelly. I’m twelve, and I wanted to hang around home with my friends this summer. But that’s not happening.
My parents are forcing me to go to Winner Island Camp. What kind of camp is that? Well, let me tell you the camp slogan. It’s: Winners Are Always Winners.
That’s right. It’s a camp where they teach you how to be a winner.
Now, I’m a totally normal guy. I’m happy most of the time. I do okay in school, mostly A’s and B’s. And I’ve got some good friends. So, I don’t mean to brag or anything. But I think I’m already a winner.
But that isn’t enough for my family. In my family, you have to be a WINNER. In my family, you have to be the fastest, or the luckiest, or the smartest, or the funniest, or the best, day and night.
My dad is a big, strong dude, about a mile wide. He played middle linebacker on his college football team, and they went to the national championship. Now he’s football coach at a junior college. All he cares about is winning.
My mom is a vice president at a bank. And she’s into long-distance bike racing. Sometimes she gets up at four in the morning and rides for sixty miles before breakfast.
Even Darleen, my six-year-old sister, is a superstar. She was reading huge books when she was four. Last year, she won the National Spelling Bee in Washington, DC, against a bunch of high school kids.
Get the picture? I like to chill with my friends and take it easy. How did I get in this family?
And now, here we were pulling up to the dock. In about an hour, the boat was going to come to take me to Winner Island. I saw a little white restaurant near the end of the dock. Above the door, a wooden sign carved like a fish read: ANDY’S FISH SHACK.
The lake sparkled blue and gold. The water rippled gently under bright sunlight. But my parents never take any time to enjoy a beautiful view.
We piled out of the car, and Dad cried, “Race you to the restaurant.”
Mom, Dad, and Darleen took off, running as fast as they could. Their shoes slapped the wooden dock. I took one last look at the shimmery lake. Then I trotted after them.
Darleen reached the restaurant door first. “I call the window!” she shouted. She pulled the door open and disappeared inside.
“First one to the table gets the biggest breakfast,” Dad said.
Do you see? Everything is a competition in my family.
Andy’s Fish Shack was small, with only a few tables. They had red-and-white checkered tablecloths. It was morning, but the restaurant smelled of chowder and fried fish.
A skinny old guy in a sailor’s cap and a long white apron was wiping glasses behind the bar. I guessed he was Andy. “Take any table, folks,” he called. The place was empty.
Darleen grabbed a seat by the window. I stopped to gaze at the long silvery swordfish mounted over the bar.
“Last again, Tommy,” Mom said, shaking her head.
Darleen giggled. “Tommy is always last.”
“That’s why we’re sending him to Winner Island Camp,” Dad said. “When he comes back in two weeks, you’d better watch out, Darleen. He’ll beat you to the table every time.”
She rolled her blue eyes. “No way.” My sister has a round face and crinkly blond hair. My parents say she looks like a little doll.
That makes her a winner again, since I’m kind of short and chubby, and I wear glasses.
The waiter took our breakfast order. Dad ordered three eggs and an extra helping of bacon to make sure he got the second-biggest breakfast. Mom competes by eating the least. “Could I just have the egg whites, please?” she asked. “And no potatoes.”
Wind off the lake rattled the window by our table. Outside, I saw a seagull dive into the water.
I had a heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach. “I don’t understand why I have to go to this camp,” I said. “I mean, seriously.”
“It’s only two weeks, dummy,” Darleen said.
“Don’t call me dummy,” I snapped.
Mom and Dad like it when Darleen and I fight. They say it shows we both want to win. It shows good competitive spirit.
My parents are weird — right?
“Your sister is right,” Dad said. “The camp is only two weeks, but it’s really going to toughen you up. You’re going to come back a different kid.”
Mom pulled the camp brochure from her bag. “Tommy, look what it says. There is a note from Uncle Felix in here. He’s the camp director.”
She read from the brochure. “When you arrive, you are a LOSER. But losers NEVER leave Winner Island.”
Those words gave me a chill. I mean, what does that mean — losers never leave? Where do they go? What happens to them?
Guess what? I soon found out. And it wasn’t pretty.
Andy set the breakfast plates on the table. Dad grinned. “I win. I got the biggest breakfast.”
“But my eggs are the yellowest,” Darleen said. It wasn’t funny, but Mom and Dad both laughed.
Dad practically emptied a bottle of hot sauce on his eggs. My family puts hot sauce on everything. Not me. I can’t stand the stuff.
“I don’t want
to be a different kid when I come back,” I said. “I just want to be me.”
Darleen gave me a hard shove. “Who would want to be you?” she said. Again, my parents laughed as if that was the funniest joke in the world.
“Hey, I see the boat!” Darleen pointed out the window. “I saw it first! I saw it first!”
I turned and saw a white boat, moving fast toward us, bouncing on the blue-green water.
The heavy feeling in my stomach was now a huge rock. “Dad, this isn’t fair,” I said. “I’m two days late to this camp. It already started. The other kids will have a total advantage over me.”
He swallowed a mouthful of eggs. “That’s good for you, Tommy,” he said. He waved his fork at me. “You’ll just have to be even tougher.”
“Hey, I finished first!” Mom cried. She showed off her empty plate.
She usually wins the fast-eater prize.
We ate quickly. Dad dropped some money on the table and we hurried outside.
Seagulls screeched and flapped above the little boat as it bobbed up to us. A young man appeared on the deck and leaned over to tie a thick rope around the post on the dock.
His long brown hair fluttered in the wind beneath a red baseball cap turned backward. He had short brown stubble on his cheeks and wore ragged denim cutoffs and a red-and-blue camp T-shirt with the word Winner across the front.
He gave me a salute. “Are you Tommy?”
I nodded.
“Welcome aboard. I’m Jared. Jump on. Let’s go to Winner Island.”
A sharp wave made the boat bounce and tug at the rope.
My family gathered around me. Mom wiped a smudge of egg off my chin.
“Let’s say good-bye to the old Tommy,” Dad said. “Can’t wait to see the new Tommy.” He patted my shoulder. “Let’s see who can hug him the hardest.”
“No, please —” I started.
Too late. Darleen grabbed me around the waist. She tightened her arms around me with all her strength.
I heard a craaaaack. Pain shot up and down my body.
“My ribs!” I cried. “You broke my ribs!”
Groaning in pain, I hobbled onto the boat. Dad handed my duffel bag to Jared. He shoved it inside the cabin.
I gazed around, looking for other passengers. But of course, I was the only passenger. Camp had started two days before. We were late because my parents insisted on competing in a barbecue championship in Santa Fe.
The little boat bobbed from side to side. Jared pointed me to a bench seat at the back. “I know it’s a lake, but it gets a little rocky, dude,” he said. “Don’t throw up on the boat, okay? Only losers throw up on the boat.”
“Okay,” I said, dropping onto the bench. “No problem.”
He disappeared around the cabin to the front. A few seconds later, the motor started up with a roar. The boat bobbed away from the dock.
I waved to my family. They waved back. I knew they were about to have their race to the car.
They vanished from view as the boat scooted over the lake. The late morning sun sent gold ripples on the gentle waves. The water sparkled all around me. Above the boat, chattering seagulls followed us for a while. Then they gave up and turned back toward land.
Hypnotized by the shimmering gold in the water, I just sat and stared for a long while. My family seldom takes boats anywhere. Mom and Dad say they are too slow. But I found it relaxing to bob on the gentle waves and smell the fresh air.
I saw a stack of camp brochures beside me. I picked one up. It snapped me out of my relaxed mood. I gazed at a photo of the camp director, Uncle Felix. He was bald and kind of mean-looking, with narrow slits for eyes. He had a red bandanna around his neck.
I read another quote from Uncle Felix:
At my camp, you won’t just win, you’ll win BIG-TIME. We EAT LOSERS for breakfast at Winner Island.
“Whoa,” I muttered. I tossed the brochure to the floor.
“It’s just another sports camp trying to sound different,” I told myself. “And my parents totally fell for it.”
I wondered if they had tennis. Tennis and swimming are my best sports. My parents started giving me tennis lessons when I was about as tall as the racket. I’m not a great player. But my forehand is as good as my backhand.
I pulled out my phone. I tried to text my friend Ramon back home. Then I saw that I had no bars. I remembered what the brochure said — no phone or Internet anywhere near Winner Island.
I guess that’s part of being tough. You can’t complain to anyone about what a loser camp it is.
I stuffed the phone back in my pocket. I gazed around. Nothing but shimmering water on all sides. Like being on another planet.
I pictured the photos of Earth you always see taken from outer space. Nothing but a big blue ball.
How long was this boat ride? Were we almost there?
I stood up and looked for Jared at the front of the boat. But I couldn’t see him.
The boat rocked hard. I fell back onto the bench.
I wonder if I’ll make any friends at this camp, I thought.
I knew there would probably be a lot of rah-rah, gung-ho types competing to be the best. But maybe I’d find a few kids who were sent there against their will and who thought the whole thing was kind of crazy. Like me.
“Winner Island on the starboard bow!” Jared’s voice rang out from somewhere.
I stood up and turned to the front. There it was. I could see the island coming into view. I saw a sandy beach and a row of low, tangled trees. I saw a small dock poking out from the beach. On one side of the dock stretched a green field filled with kids playing some kind of sport.
The motor hiccupped as Jared brought the boat to the side of the dock. The boat tossed up and down, as if it didn’t want to be here.
I had that heavy feeling in my stomach again. Only two weeks, I reminded myself. It’s only two weeks.
Jared appeared. His face was sunburned and sweaty. “We made it,” he said. “Nice ride, huh? The lake was smooth as glass.”
“Yeah. Nice ride,” I said.
I heard shouts from the playing field. Jared gave me a boost onto the dock. Then he hoisted my duffel bag up beside me.
“Hope you have a good time, Tommy,” he said. His smile faded. He suddenly had this intense look in his eyes. “And hope I see you on the way back.”
What does he mean by that?
I ducked as a shadow rolled over me. It took me a few seconds to realize it was the shadow of a bird. I raised my eyes and saw a hawk swooping low over the beach.
Jared waved and disappeared into the cabin of the boat. I glanced around, wondering where I was supposed to go. I was still thinking about what he said: Hope I see you on the way back.
That wasn’t a warning — was it?
“Hey, dog!”
I spun around as a tall, bearded guy in a denim jumpsuit came trotting toward me. He had short, spiky brown hair and silvery eyes. I saw a gold ring in one ear and a sparkly stud on one side of his nose.
“Welcome to Winner Island,” he said. He raised a hand for me to slap him a high five. “Where are you from, dog?”
“Hartford, Connecticut,” I said.
He nodded. “Okay. Well … welcome. My name is Robb. R-o-b-b.” He grabbed my duffel bag. “I’ll take this to Cabin Twelve for you.”
“Thanks, Robb,” I said. “Should I follow you, or —”
I stopped when I heard the shouts. Angry cries from the playing field.
Was it a fight during a game?
I turned and squinted at the field, shielding my eyes from the sun with one hand. I gasped when I saw what was happening.
There were dozens of kids, and they were all battling. Shouting and groaning and grunting. Shoving, wrestling, tossing each other to the ground. A huge, horrible free-for-all.
And I saw two counselors — a guy and a girl in red camp T-shirts — standing there with their arms crossed, watching the battle. Just watching. Not trying to stop it.
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Stop it? Why should they, dog? That’s our morning warm-ups.”
My mouth dropped open. “Morning warm-ups?” I squeaked.
I realized my heart was pounding. I’d never been in a fight in my life. I’d never been in a shoving match. I’d never hit anyone, except maybe my sister. And that doesn’t count.
Was I going to have to do morning warm-ups, too?
What would I do? Fold myself into a ball on the grass. Yes. That will be me. I’ll be the kid rolling around in the grass, groaning in pain.
A loser.
Robb tapped my shoulder. “I’ll get this duffel bag to Cabin Twelve. You follow that path to Uncle Felix’s office. I’m sure he’ll want to say hi to you, dog.”
I nodded weakly. I was still thinking about morning warm-ups.
I hopped off the dock as Robb headed away with my stuff. The shouts and cries still rang in my ears as I followed the curving, sandy path away from the beach. The path led through a thick patch of smooth-barked trees. On the other side, I saw a bunch of wooden cabins. They were built in a circle around a large meeting area. I saw a burned-out campfire in the middle of the circle. And a bunch of little birds, black with pointy yellow beaks, poking in the dirt around it.
One cabin was bigger and taller than the others. A sign beside the door read STAFF ONLY. I figured that had to be where I’d find Uncle Felix’s office.
I stepped inside. I smelled coffee brewing. I saw three office doors in a row along a narrow hall. The door in the middle had a window. The name Uncle Felix was stenciled on the window.
I peeked in and saw a small waiting room with three folding chairs lined up against the wall. No one in there.
I pulled open the door and stepped into the waiting room. There was an office at the front of the room. I heard a cough and rustling sounds from the office.
Uncle Felix must be in there.
The door was closed. A sign read: DO NOT KNOCK.
So I took a seat on one of the folding chairs and waited.
And waited.
I could hear the man muttering to himself and clearing his throat on the other side of the door. So I cleared my throat, too, to let him know I was out here.
