by R. L. Stine
“Serpo!” Roddy shrieked, jumping up and down, waving his arms like a wild man. “Serpo! I told you! It KILLED him!”
I stared at the dark green water. So still, lapping softly against the muddy shore.
A chill rolled down my back. Something had definitely pulled Nathan down. And he wasn’t coming up.
“I’ll find him!” I shouted to the others.
I took a running start — and leaped into the water. The cold shocked my body. But I ran till the water was over my knees. Then I did a surface dive and plunged underwater.
I opened my eyes. Pulled myself along the shallow bottom.
The water was green and clear. Nathan — where are you? Where?
No sign of him. I could feel panic tighten my chest.
And then my heart stopped as something wrapped around my ankle.
Serpo!
I struggled to the surface, gasping and choking. I tried to kick free, but I was being pulled back down. I twisted around to try to see what had me in its grip.
Nathan! He let go of my ankle. Then he rose up and slapped the water with both hands. He spit a gusher of water at me.
“Hey — I’m only joking with you!” he shouted. “Counselors have to have some fun, too!” He splashed around, laughing his head off.
My heart was pounding like thunder. What a mean joke!
Kelly and Sid came running into the water. The three of us grabbed Nathan and dunked him under.
We had a good time wrestling around, splashing each other, just goofing. The water felt awesome. I spun away and began swimming out into deeper water.
When I turned back, I saw Roddy still close to the shore. He was only in up to his knees. And even from out in the water, I could see the worried look on his face.
Poor guy, I thought. He’s not going to have any fun here.
“Think I’ll go back to the cabin!” Roddy called to us. I watched him walk away from the shore, his head down.
I had no idea that was the last time I’d ever see him here.
One hour later, Sid, Kelly, and I were on our bunks in the cabin, just hanging out. Sid sat on the edge of his bed, playing a racing game on his PSP. His thumbs were going wild, and crashing sounds blared from the little speaker.
Above him, Kelly was taking a nap in the top bunk. One arm dangled down and kept bumping Sid’s head. But Sid was too into his game to brush it away.
I was writing a note to Mom and Dad. I told them Heather and I gave the camp a big thumbs-up — so far.
Then the cabin door swung open, and Nathan burst in, followed by two other counselors.
Sid didn’t look up from his game. Kelly rolled over, still asleep.
The three counselors had serious looks on their faces. They crossed the room to Roddy’s bed, under mine. Nathan bent down and slid Roddy’s bag out from under the bunk.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“We’re packing up Roddy’s stuff,” Nathan replied.
“Which is his drawer?” a counselor named Leo asked.
I pointed. “You’re packing him up?” I asked. “Where’s he going?”
“Home,” Nathan said.
That made Sid look up. “He’s leaving?” he asked.
Nathan nodded. He and Leo and the other guy began shoving clothes and other gear into the bag. “He didn’t like it here,” Nathan said.
“It happens sometimes,” Leo muttered.
“He decided to go home,” Nathan told me. “He said to say good-bye to you guys.”
“But … but … we just saw him!” I stammered.
“It was kind of a sudden thing,” Leo said. He jammed Roddy’s flip-flops into the bag. “Where’s his toothbrush and stuff?”
“Where is Roddy now?” Sid asked. “Maybe the three of us could go say good-bye to him.”
“Too late,” Nathan said. “He already left. On the bus.”
“We’re sending his stuff home after him,” the other counselor said.
Leo shrugged. “The dude just didn’t like it here.”
Nathan zipped the bag shut. He picked it up and turned to leave. The three counselors tromped out the door. The screen door slammed behind them.
Kelly jerked straight up, wide-awake. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Roddy took a hike,” Sid told him. “He went home.”
Kelly blinked. “On the second day of camp?”
“Yeah. It’s weird,” Sid said.
“Too weird,” I said. “I don’t think I believe those counselors.”
Sid shrugged. “Why would they lie?”
“Why would Roddy leave so soon?” I said. “Sure, he was frightened. But I don’t think he was frightened enough to go home after one day.”
Outside the open cabin window, the loud hissing started again. It started suddenly, as if someone had flipped a switch.
No way it could be crickets, I decided. Too loud and too shrill. And why would all the crickets be up at the top of the hill?
“Too many mysteries here,” I muttered.
I jumped down from the top bunk. “Look. That manga book Roddy was reading.” I picked it up from his bed. “Wouldn’t he take it with him for the ride home?”
“And why didn’t he come back and pack up his own stuff?” Kelly asked.
The hissing sound rose, growing more and more shrill, like steam shooting out of a hundred teakettles.
“Listen, guys,” I said. “I don’t know about you, but I hate mysteries. So, I’ve been thinking …”
They leaned closer to hear me over the hissing.
“Here’s my plan … ,” I said.
“We wait till everyone is asleep. An hour or so after lights out,” I said. “We sneak out of here. We climb the hill. And we find out what’s making that hissing sound. Okay? Are you with me?”
They both shook their heads.
“No way,” Sid said. “I don’t want to get in trouble the first week. I like it here. I don’t want to be sent home.”
“I’m not going up there in the dark,” Kelly said. “No way. Not on a bet.”
“How about if I dare you?” I asked.
Sid went back to his game. “No way,” he repeated.
Kelly picked up Roddy’s manga book and took it up to his bunk to read.
Okay. So they were both too chicken. But I knew one person who would sneak up the hill with me. One other person who hates mysteries as much as I do …
* * *
That night, I didn’t get undressed. I climbed under the blanket with all my clothes on.
I tucked a flashlight beside me. I didn’t want to forget it.
Sid and Kelly fell asleep quickly. I listened to the hissing sound outside the window. And I kept checking the time on my watch.
I guess I fell asleep for an hour or so. When I checked my watch again, it was a few minutes before midnight. Time for action.
I grabbed the flashlight and slid down silently to the floor. I crept out of the cabin and closed the screen door gently behind me.
It was a cool, breezy night. I saw a pale half-moon hanging low in the sky. The hissing sound rose and fell. Over and over.
I crept away from the row of cabins. Then I turned and started walking over the tall grass to the hill.
I was wearing flip-flops, and I could feel the cold, wet dew on my feet. A gust of wind made me shiver. I wished I had worn a sweatshirt and jeans instead of a flimsy T-shirt and shorts.
Something scampered across my feet. Probably a chipmunk or a field mouse. I clicked on the flashlight. Too late to see what it was.
I held the light down close to the grass. It made a tiny circle in front of me. I hoped no one was awake to see it.
The grass grew taller at the foot of the hill. Cold, wet blades brushed my knees. Grass curled around my ankles like snakes.
I gasped when I heard a sharp rattling sound. Close by.
I jumped back.
It took me a few seconds to remember it was Heather’s bracelet. She jumped out of the dark
ness. “Boo!”
“Not funny,” I whispered. “And you didn’t scare me.”
“Maybe a little?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No way.”
“Diggety doughnut,” she said. She pointed her flashlight beam up the steep hill. “Are we really going up there?”
“You volunteered,” I said, shivering. “You said you were as brave as me.”
“Braver,” she said. She poked me in the ribs with her flashlight.
“Stop it!” I said, jumping away.
Heather laughed. “Boone rhymes with baboon.” She poked me again.
“Ow. Be serious,” I said. “I mean it.”
Why did I ask her to come with me? I must have been out in the sun too long. My brain was fried or something!
The hissing cut out suddenly. The silence was eerie.
We leaned into the wind and started to climb. My flashlight beam darted around my feet.
The ground became soft and wet. My flip-flops squished as we climbed.
At the top of the hill, I could see a large, dark building, black against the purple sky.
The hissing began again. So close, the sound rang in my ears and made my teeth hurt!
What was that dark building above us? Was it filled with hissing snakes?
Heather and I would soon find out.
Our flashlights danced over the wet grass. The half-moon disappeared behind clouds. The building on the hilltop vanished in the darkness.
“Think Mom and Dad will at least send me a card?” Heather asked.
“Huh? A card? For what?” I asked.
“For my birthday. It’s in two days,” Heather said. “See? You forgot, too.”
She gave me a hard shove that almost sent me tumbling down the hill. “I told you no one ever remembers my birthday.”
“Could you please shut up?” I groaned. “Who cares about your birthday right now? We didn’t sneak up here in the middle of the night to talk about your stupid birthday.”
“You’re stupid,” she muttered.
She said something else, but I didn’t hear it. The hissing rang so loudly in my ears, I could barely hear my own thoughts!
Hey, I’m a brave dude — but no lie, this was scary.
We reached the top of the hill. I was drenched in sweat. I wiped my forehead with the sleeve of my T-shirt.
The moon slid out from behind the clouds. Pale light swept over a long two-story building. The windows were covered. No light escaped.
A tall hedge blocked the front of the building from view. I couldn’t see an opening in the hedge.
The hissing cut off again. And now we stood in a deep silence.
Was anyone up here? Why did the hissing sound keep starting and stopping so suddenly?
“Follow me,” I whispered to Heather. My heart was thumping like crazy in my chest. I lowered my shoulder and pushed my way through the hedge.
I turned and helped pull my sister through the thick, prickly branches. Then we stopped and studied the building.
“Is it somebody’s house?” Heather whispered. “Does Dr. Crawler live up here?”
“No,” I said. “He lives in the little house behind the mess hall.”
We stepped closer, into the deep shadows of the building. The front door was narrow, built of solid wood. The whole house stood as dark as a tomb.
I grabbed the doorknob and twisted it. I gave the door a tug.
Locked.
“All the other cabins and buildings have signs on them,” Heather whispered.
“Maybe they want to keep this one a secret,” I said.
I led the way around to the side. My flip-flops squished on the wet grass. A chill trickled down my body.
I knew we weren’t supposed to be up there. But it was too late to go back.
Keeping close to the wall, we turned and crept slowly along the back of the house. “Heather, look —” I pointed to a dim orange glow up ahead.
We found the back door and peered in through a smeared glass window. I saw a narrow hallway. It was lit by a small lamp on the wall.
I tried the door.
Yes! Unlocked. I held it open for my sister. She hesitated for a moment. I saw a flash of fear on her face.
“Want to wait outside?” I whispered.
She stuck her tongue out at me.
My legs were shaking as I stepped into the hall. Warm inside. And silent.
I shut the door softly behind us. I waited for my eyes to adjust to the dim orange glow.
The hall led to a single door at the far end. No other doors or hallways.
“Let’s see what’s here,” I whispered.
I took a deep breath and began to creep toward the door. The plank floorboards creaked under us. I tried to walk on tiptoe. But that isn’t easy in flip-flops.
Any moment, I expected someone to come popping out that door and grab us.
But no. We made it to the far end of the hall.
I took a few seconds to catch my breath. Then, carefully … slowly … I pulled open the door.
Darkness on the other side. I couldn’t see a thing.
Heather and I stepped into the room. Where were we?
We raised our flashlights — and gasped.
“They … they’re ALIVE!” I cried.
I jumped back and hit the wall. I grabbed my sister and pulled her beside me.
The flashlight trembled in my hand. But I swept it back and forth over the room.
And stared in shock at the room filled with MICE.
Hundreds of them. In a pile nearly to the ceiling. No, not a pile. A mountain of mice.
Squeaking and chittering. A thousand tiny voices at once. Two thousand little black eyes … a thousand whipping tails.
They crawled over each other. They never stopped clawing and climbing. Struggling to climb to the top of the pile.
Their pink tails snapped and wriggled. Tiny jaws clamped open and shut.
I held the flashlight beam on the pile of living creatures. I couldn’t take my eyes off the wild tangle of bodies.
Frozen against the wall, I watched them climb and scramble over each other and claw and bite, scratching and scraping.
“Oh!” Heather and I both uttered cries as a clump of mice fell off the pile and hit the floor with a hard thud.
Several landed on their backs. Their little paws kicked the air. And they swung back to their feet — and leaped back into the pile.
“I … I don’t believe this,” Heather stammered. “Boone, do they see us? What’s keeping them in the center of the room?”
I raised my beam of light. “They’re in a cage. See?” I said. “It’s like chicken wire. Very thin wire. Look. It goes up to the ceiling. They’re totally caged in.”
At the top of the mountain, several mice were nearly pressed against the ceiling. As other mice scrambled to the top, they lost their place and went toppling down the pile. Then they started their climb again from the bottom.
Heather’s eyes were wide with fright. She pressed her hands against her cheeks. “Boone,” she whispered, “all these mice. What are they doing here?”
She grabbed my arm and squeezed it. “I mean … what is happening here?”
I swallowed hard. I kept the light on the swarming, squeaking mice. “Serpo,” I muttered.
Heather squeezed my arm tighter. “Excuse me? What did you just say?”
“Serpo,” I repeated. “The big snake. The mice are here to feed him. They are food for Serpo. To keep him from attacking the camp.”
Heather scrunched up her face. “Roddy’s snake story? Boone, you’re starting to believe his crazy story?”
I nodded. “Yes. I believe it. Looking at these mice, I believe it. This is a food pantry, Heather. For feeding Serpo, a giant snake.”
“But, Boone —”
“I believe Roddy’s story,” I said. “I think they got rid of Roddy to keep him from telling the story to other campers. But I believe it. And … I believe we’re all in real
danger at this camp.”
“I … don’t know what to believe,” Heather said in a trembling voice. “But these mice … they’re too creepy. Let’s get out of here!”
Keeping our backs against the wall, we slid toward the door. In front of us, the mountain of mice collapsed. The scramble to the top began again.
I reached the door. It was closed. I didn’t remember closing it.
“Hurry,” Heather whispered. “I … I need to get out of here.”
I twisted the knob and pushed.
The door didn’t budge.
I twisted it the other way. Pushed.
I leaned my shoulder into it and pushed hard.
No. Not moving.
I turned the knob and tried pulling. No.
“Boone — hurry!” Heather cried.
“The door is stuck,” I said.
And then I felt something warm and scratchy on my ankle.
I kicked hard. But I felt prickly stabs on both legs. A warm body rubbed against my ankle.
I lowered the light. I saw a big tear in the wire cage. Mice were tumbling out through the opening. Pouring over the floor toward Heather and me.
I felt a mouse climb up my leg. Felt its warm, dry body. Felt its pinprick paws dig into my skin.
Two more crawled over my flip-flops.
Heather screamed. “Boone — help! They’re on me! They’re climbing up my back!”
I kicked a pack of mice off my feet. But four more scrambled around my ankles.
Heather twisted and squirmed. She shook her whole body, tossing mice into the air.
A mouse leaped onto my back. I ducked and spun and sent it flying.
“Ohhhh, help,” Heather moaned. “They’re swarming — more and more of them! They’re going to bury us!”
I grabbed the doorknob. Twisted it. Pushed the door with all my strength. I frantically shook the knob back and forth.
Did we lock ourselves in?
Or did someone else lock the door?
My shoulder prickled. I felt something warm on my neck.
I pulled a mouse out of my hair and tossed it into the pile. I kicked one leg, then the other, trying to keep the squealing creatures off.
“What are we going to do? What are we going to do?” Heather shrieked. She plucked a mouse from her neck. I saw one slide off the back of her shorts.
