First Evil

by R. L. Stine

Up the stairs and out of the building, without stopping for her jacket, without stopping for her books.

  Out into the cold, gray afternoon. Her sneakers crunching over dead leaves, hot tears stinging her eyes.

  She ran as fast as her heart was pounding.

  She just wanted to run forever.

  But then two hands grabbed her roughly from behind.

  Bobbi gasped and flailed out with both hands.

  “No—don’t!” she cried.

  Chapter 16

  Strange Shadows

  “Bobbi—what’s wrong?”

  Chip let go of her shoulders and backed away, startled by her wild reaction.

  “Oh. Chip. I—” The words caught in her throat.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said, his eyes studying her, his expression alarmed. “I saw you running and—”

  “Chip—it happened to me too!” Bobbi blurted out, half-talking, half-crying. She grabbed the sleeve of his letter jacket, pressed her face against it.

  “Huh? Where’s your coat? Aren’t you cold?”

  “It happened to me too,” she repeated, not recognizing her shrill, frightened voice. She straightened up, saw that her tears had run onto his jacket sleeve. “I—I couldn’t move.”

  “You? Really?” Chip stared at her, as if he didn’t quite know what to make of her words, as if he didn’t understand. Or didn’t believe her. “I’m going to the doctor’s. For tests. Right now,” he said awkwardly. “I was just telling Coach I had to miss practice. He said—”

  “I couldn’t move,” Bobbi repeated, as if repeating it would make him believe her. “I couldn’t raise my arms. Just like you, Chip.”

  She stared into his eyes imploringly.

  “You should get to a doctor too,” he said softly. “Mine thinks it’s some kind of muscle thing. These tests—”

  A horn honked loudly, insistently, behind them.

  “Hey—that’s my brother. He’s taking me to the doctor,” Chip said, turning to wave to the driver. “I’ve got to go.”

  “Can I call you later?” Bobbi asked. “I mean, I’ve really got to talk to you. About . . . what happened.”

  “Yeah. Sure,” he said, jogging to the car. “I’ll be home later.” He stopped suddenly and turned back to her. “You need a lift?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “I want to walk. Thanks!”

  He climbed into the passenger seat. The car sped off.

  He’s the only one who will believe me, Bobbi thought, watching the car until it disappeared around the next corner.

  He’s the only one.

  It happened to him too. I’m not cracking up. I’m not.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  “I’m not cracking up,” she told Jennifer. “It happened to Chip too.”

  Jennifer’s eyes flared for a brief second when Bobbi mentioned Chip’s name. She wheeled herself back against the wall, giving Bobbi room to pass her and enter the den.

  “Thanks for letting me come over,” Bobbi said gratefully. She tossed her backpack onto the floor beside a couch and started to pull off her coat. “My parents took my little brother to a Cub Scout dinner, and Corky is baby-sitting tonight. I just didn’t want to be alone.”

  “That was so awful this afternoon,” Jennifer said, speaking slowly, cautiously. “You must have felt terrible.” She wheeled herself back into the den, banging into the frame of the narrow doorway, backing up, and succeeding on the second try.

  Bobbi dropped her coat on top of her backpack and rubbed the sleeves of her blue, long-sleeved pullover to warm herself. “Yeah. I—I was—” She stopped, unable to describe how she had felt.

  “So did you talk to Chip about it?” Jennifer asked.

  “I—I tried to call him. There was no answer. No one at his house.”

  “Would you like some tea?” Jennifer asked softly. “You look chilled.”

  “No. No, thanks. Maybe later,” Bobbi said. “Do you believe me, Jen? Do you believe that I didn’t deliberately let Kimmy fall?”

  “I talked to her mother,” Jennifer replied, avoiding the question. “She has a broken wrist. It’s in a cast. But it’s her left hand, so it isn’t so bad.”

  “Do you believe me?” Bobbi demanded, sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning forward expectantly, her hands clasped nervously in front of her.

  “I really don’t know what to believe,” Jennifer replied reluctantly.

  “It was like someone was holding me down, holding me in place, smothering me. My arms were useless,” Bobbi said, explaining for the hundredth time. “Useless. My whole body was useless.”

  “I know what that’s like,” Jennifer said with sudden bitterness. She stared down at her legs.

  “Oh, Jen—I’m sorry!” Bobbi cried, jumping to her feet, feeling her face grow hot. “That was so thoughtless of me. I—”

  Jennifer gestured for her to sit back down. “You’ve had a hard day, Bobbi. A horrible day.”

  “Do you think Miss Green will let me stay on the squad?” Bobbi asked, dropping back onto the couch.

  Jennifer shrugged. “Do you want to try to study or something? Take your mind off what happened?”

  Bobbi sighed. “I don’t know if I can take my mind off it.”

  “Let’s try,” Jennifer said, tossing her beautiful, wavy hair behind her shoulders. “I’ll make us some tea, and we’ll try.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Jennifer tried valiantly, but she couldn’t rouse Bobbi from her frightened, unhappy thoughts. No matter what they talked about, Bobbi’s mind trailed back to the gym, back to her mysterious, terrifying paralysis, back to Kimmy’s plunge to the floor.

  Again and again, Bobbi heard the crack of Kimmy’s wrist breaking. She heard the thud of Kimmy’s forehead hitting the floorboards, saw Kimmy’s head snap back and her eyes close.

  Again and again, she saw the accusing eyes of the other cheerleaders and heard their outraged cries.

  A little after eleven o’clock, Bobbi glumly pulled on her jacket, hoisted her backpack to a shoulder, and headed for the front door. “Thanks for keeping me company,” she told Jennifer, and leaned down to give her friend a hug.

  “Any time,” Jennifer replied with a yawn.

  “Where are your parents?” Bobbi asked.

  “Visiting some friends,” Jennifer said sleepily. “They’ll probably be home soon.”

  “Well, thanks again,” Bobbi said, pulling open the front door, feeling the chill of the night air against her hot face. “See you tomorrow, Jen.”

  “Get some sleep” were Jennifer’s parting words. She wheeled herself to the door.

  Bobbi closed the door behind her. She looked out into a dark, starless night. The air was cold and wet. From the driveway she could see a white covering of frost on her car windshield, reflecting off the streetlight.

  Shivering, she made her way down the drive, her high-tops crunching over the gravel.

  Crunch, crunch, she thought. Like the crunch of bones.

  When she got down to the car, she rubbed a finger over the frost on the windshield. It wasn’t very frozen. She didn’t need to scrape it off. The windshield wipers would take care of it.

  She pulled open the car door. Then, before climbing behind the wheel, she glanced back at the house.

  And gasped.

  “Whoa!” she exclaimed out loud, her breath steamy white in front of her as she squinted at the large living-room picture window.

  It was the only lighted window in the front of the house. A window shade had been pulled down, covering the entire window. The bright living-room lights made the shade bright orange and cast shadows onto it.

  Moving shadows.

  Squinting hard, Bobbi realized that she was seeing Jennifer’s shadow against the shade.

  And Jennifer was walking.

  Pacing back and forth in front of the window.

  “Whoa,” Bobbi repeated.

  She blinked several times.

  But when she reopened
her eyes and directed them back to the window, the shadow didn’t change or fade away.

  Jennifer, Bobbi knew, was the only one home. And Jennifer was out of her wheelchair. Jennifer was walking!

  “What’s going on?” Bobbi asked out loud.

  I’m definitely cracking up, she decided. I’ve got to get help. I’m seeing things.

  She took a step up the driveway. Then another. Her sneakers slid over the wet gravel.

  I’m crazy. Crazy. Crazy.

  But, no. As she drew closer to the house, the gray shadow against the orange shade continued to move steadily back and forth. The image grew clearer. Sharper.

  It was Jennifer. She was walking, her hands knotted in front of her.

  What’s going on? Bobbi wondered, her mind whirring with wild ideas.

  Is it a miracle? Did Jennifer just this second discover she could walk?

  No. That wasn’t likely. Then . . .

  Has Jennifer been faking all along?

  Why? Why would she fake paralysis?

  Why?

  Bobbi stepped back onto the stoop. She rang the doorbell.

  She had to know. She had to ask Jennifer what was going on.

  She leaned toward the door and listened for Jennifer’s footsteps.

  Silence.

  She rang the bell again.

  Finally the front door was pulled open, revealing a widening rectangle of light.

  “Jennifer!” Bobbi cried.

  Chapter 17

  Cracking Up

  Standing on the front stoop, Bobbi stared into the yellow light of the front hallway. Jennifer held the door open, her face filled with surprise.

  “Bobbi—what’s the matter?”

  “Oh . . . uh . . .” Bobbi stammered. “Nothing. I . . . thought I forgot my gloves.”

  Jennifer’s face relaxed. She settled back in her wheelchair. She wheeled herself back a few inches, still gripping the doorknob. “Do you want to come in and look for them?”

  “No,” Bobbi replied quickly. “I just remembered I didn’t bring any gloves. Sorry.”

  Jennifer laughed. “You’re really in a state, aren’t you?” “Yeah. I guess.” Bobbi felt totally embarrassed. And confused.

  And worried.

  Jennifer was in her wheelchair, a small blanket over her lap. Why had Bobbi imagined that she’d seen her pacing back and forth across the window?

  Had Bobbi imagined it all, imagined the moving shadow, imagined the dark figure walking across the living room?

  What’s wrong with me? Bobbi asked herself, saying good night to Jennifer again and trudging back down the gravel driveway.

  Her breath rose in puffs of white steam against the cold night air.

  But Bobbi didn’t feel the cold.

  In fact, she felt hot. Feverish. Her forehead throbbed, a sharp pain just behind her eyes.

  Why am I seeing things?

  Am I seeing things?

  Am I cracking up? Really cracking up?

  The headlights seemed to skip and dance as she drove through the silent darkness back to her house on Fear Street. The house was dark except for the porch light. She realized everyone must have gone to bed.

  Tossing her jacket onto the banister, she hurried up to her bedroom and, without turning on the light, shook Corky awake.

  “Huh?” Corky cried out, frightened, and sat up stiffly.

  “It’s me,” Bobbi whispered. “Wake up.”

  “You scared me to death!” Corky cried angrily. She never liked to be awakened.

  Bobbi clicked on the bedside lamp. “I saw Jennifer walk!” she blurted out.

  Corky yawned. “Huh?”

  “I think I saw Jennifer walk. I’m not sure, but—”

  “What time is it?” Corky asked crankily. “You must have been dreaming.”

  “No. I wasn’t asleep,” Bobbi insisted. “I was standing outside her house. I saw shadows.”

  Corky stretched, turned, and lowered her feet to the floor. She brushed a strand of blond hair from over her eyes. “You saw shadows?” Her face filled with concern. “Bobbi, I’m really worried about you.”

  “No! Really! I saw her,” Bobbi said, not realizing that she was almost shouting. She stood over her sister, her hands knotted tensely in front of her, feeling hot and trembly, the pain still pulsing behind her eyes.

  “Maybe we should tell Mom and Dad,” Corky said, glancing at the bedside clock. “I mean, just stop and think for a minute, Bobbi. First you told me you saw all the lockers at school open and close when you walked down the hall. Then you told me you were paralyzed at practice this afternoon. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t even speak. And that’s why you let Kimmy fall.”

  “But, Corky—”

  “Let me finish,” Corky said sharply, holding up a hand as if to fend Bobbi off. “Then there was that weird story about Chip, about how he froze, too, and couldn’t move. And now you come home from Jennifer’s and—”

  “But it’s true!” Bobbi cried. “It’s all true. I mean, I think it’s true. I think—I—Don’t you believe me, Corky?”

  Corky was holding her hands over her ears. “Stop shouting. You’re screaming right in my face.”

  “Sorry. I—”

  “Let’s go tell everything to Mom and Dad,” Corky urged. “I really think you have to go talk to a doctor or something. I think you need help, Bobbi. I really do.”

  “You don’t believe me,” Bobbi accused heatedly, bitterly, her head throbbing. “You don’t believe me.”

  Without thinking about it, she picked up Corky’s pillow and heaved it at her angrily.

  “Hey—” Corky cried, grabbing the pillow and tossing it back in its place.

  “Just don’t talk to me!” Bobbi snapped. “Traitor!”

  “Oh, fine!” Corky screamed. “That’s just fine with me! You’re crazy, Bobbi! Crazy!”

  Bobbi stormed over to the closet. “Shut up! Just shut up! Don’t talk to me! Ever again!” She began to tear off her clothes, tossing them on the closet floor, muttering to herself.

  Corky punched her pillow, fluffed it, and slid back under the covers, turning her back on her sister.

  She’s gone totally crazy, she told herself. She’s just so weird!

  Imagine—calling me a traitor because I think she should talk to someone and get help.

  Me, a traitor.

  And now she’s gotten me so upset, I’ll probably be up all night.

  I hate her. I really hate her, Corky thought darkly, struggling to get comfortable. She just makes me so mad.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Corky might have been more sympathetic. She might have been more understanding. More caring. More believing.

  But Corky had no way of knowing that this was the last night she would ever spend with her sister.

  PART THREE

  The Evil

  Chapter 18

  In Hot Water

  “Okay, everyone—some aerobics to warm up!”

  Bobbi trotted enthusiastically onto the gym floor, clapping her hands, trying to get the girls up for their after-school practice.

  But they lingered against the wall, clustered in pairs, talking quietly.

  “Come on, everyone—line up! Let’s warm up!”

  Bobbi’s eyes wandered from girl to girl. Where’s Corky? she wondered, and then remembered that Corky had to stay late in Mr. Grant’s science lab. She saw Jennifer wheel herself in, concentrating as she maneuvered her wheelchair through the double doors. Jennifer saw Bobbi and smiled, giving her a little wave.

  “Line up!” Bobbi insisted.

  “Where’s Miss Green?” Kimmy asked, stepping forward slowly, holding her wrist with the white cast on it awkwardly.

  “I don’t know,” Bobbi told her. “Are you going to warm up with us? Or does your wrist—”

  “My wrist is no concern of yours,” Kimmy snapped. “I’m not quitting the squad because of it, if that’s what you mean.” Her eyes burned angrily into Bobbi’s.

&nb
sp; “Let’s warm up! Come on, everyone!” Bobbi called out, ignoring Kimmy’s anger.

  Slowly the girls moved away from the wall and formed a line in front of Bobbi. Bobbi started up the tape player. They began their aerobic exercises, the same routine they had followed since school began.

  But they performed halfheartedly, grudgingly, without enthusiasm.

  “Come on—let’s work up a sweat!” Bobbi cried, working doubly hard, as if to make up for their feeble effort. But the girls ignored her. Debra and Ronnie, she saw, were carrying on a conversation while going through the motions.

  Bobbi glanced toward the wall. Jennifer gave her a thumbs-up, but it didn’t cheer her. The girls, she knew, were deliberately not cooperating.

  She stopped the music. “Let’s work on Steam Heat,” she suggested. “Ronnie, do you want to take the end this time?”

  “Huh?”

  “Do you want to take the end? You can lead it.”

  “I don’t know.” Ronnie shrugged. “Whatever.” She turned back to her conversation with Debra.

  Without Corky, I don’t have anyone on my side, Bobbi realized, suddenly overcome by a powerful wave of depression. Only Jennifer, I guess. But even she doesn’t want to speak up for me in front of the girls—not after what happened to Kimmy.

  “Okay, line up for Steam Heat,” Bobbi called out, struggling to keep up a show of enthusiasm.

  “I think we should wait for Miss Green,” Kimmy said defiantly.

  “Yeah. Let’s wait,” Debra added quickly.

  “No reason to wait,” Bobbi said unsteadily. She glanced up at the scoreboard clock. Three forty-five. “We know what we have to work on, don’t we?”

  “I still think we should wait,” Kimmy said, a definite challenge to Bobbi’s authority.

  “Yeah. Wait,” Debra muttered nastily. Heather and Megan nodded in sullen agreement.

  It’s a mutiny, Bobbi realized, suddenly dizzy.

  “Line up!” she insisted, glancing at Jennifer, whose smile had faded. She was watching the proceedings with a look of concern. “Kimmy, if you have something to say to me—” Bobbi started.

  “I think Miss Green has something to say to you,” Kimmy replied smugly. Beside her, Ronnie snickered out loud.