Vampire Vacation

by B. A. Frade

  Matt and I thanked Mr. Wampir and went to sit on that plush sofa where our adventure had begun.

  “What are we going to do with this?” Matt set the Scaremaster’s journal between us.

  “Should we leave it here?” I suggested. The fire in the nearby fireplace crackled. “Maybe throw it in the fire? That would be the end of the story.”

  “No,” Matt said, making sure the locking clasp was secure. “I have another idea.”

  Chapter Twelve

  The next morning, we hit the slopes for a run before our lessons, but we didn’t stop at the bottom of the mountain. We let our skis and snowboard carry us farther, toward the old lodge. Matt had the Scaremaster’s journal under his jacket.

  We dropped our equipment by a tree and walked to the front of the lodge. There was a construction fence around the building with clear signs that said “Keep Out” and “No Trespassing.”

  “Should we sneak in?” I asked Matt. We wandered the fence line looking for a gap.

  At the far side, behind the building, there was a bulldozer riding over the snow toward the house. There was an opening for the machine in the fence. We went to it.

  We stopped there and looked up at the house. It was just as creepy in the daylight as it was at night. I wondered what had taken old Mr. Wampir so long to tear it down. Maybe he knew his relatives roamed the halls? Then, with the puncture marks turning up in the meat, he realized that they were hungry and was worried that what had happened to the lodge’s guests so long ago might happen again.

  I told Matt my theory.

  “Makes sense,” he said. “Not sure what the Scaremaster has to do with it all, but let’s get rid of the book and end this story.” He raised the journal, like he was speaking out loud to the Scaremaster himself. “We’re leaving your haunted book in this haunted lodge.”

  “Should we take one last look?” I asked Matt. I hadn’t had any other bad dreams, so I was certain the story was over, but maybe we should check to be sure.

  Matt opened the locking clasp and peeked inside.

  There were four words in the center of the first page.

  It said:

  Scared you, didn’t I?

  “Yes,” Matt admitted.

  I agreed, “Yes, you did.”

  Then we shut the book and started walking toward the old lodge.

  “Hey, kids,” a man’s voice shouted from inside the bulldozer. It was the driver. He was climbing out of the machine when he saw us. “You can’t be here.” He tapped a finger on his yellow hard hat. “Danger zone.”

  “We got lost,” Matt said. “Sorry. We’re leaving.” Then to me he whispered, “Create a distraction.”

  “Oof.” I pretended to twist my ankle. “Ouch!” I dropped to my knees.

  “I warned you kids,” the man said, coming toward me.

  I moaned. Matt ran. He dashed past the construction worker, past the bulldozer, to a broken window at the back of the old lodge. I held my ankle and whined while he chucked that evil journal into the house, hopefully in the same spot where the bulldozer would make its first knock-down swipe at the building.

  Matt hurried back, and I stood.

  “All better.” I leaned on my ankle as if testing it.

  “Yes,” Matt said with a grin. “It’s all going to be better now.”

  We left the construction worker shaking his head. I heard him mutter, “Kids…” Then I heard the engine of the bulldozer start.

  I smiled. “That’s enough scares for one vacation,” I told Matt.

  I got my skis, and Matt took his snowboard. We walked toward the chair lift. It was a gray day with snow falling and very little direct sunlight.

  “It’s not quite over yet,” Matt said, pointing up to the sky. “I have one last scare for you, Zo.”

  Above us, three bats flew away from the lodge, soaring into the distance.

  “There go Mr. Wampir and his mom,” I said, waving to them.

  “I’m pretty sure the bellman is the third bat,” Matt said.

  I nodded, and we stood together, watching them until they were out of sight.

  “Come on, Zoe. Let’s go,” Matt said at last, turning to face the top of the mountain. “It’s time to hit the slopes.”

  Epilogue

  “Just five minutes, Mom.” Nate Mullen checked his wristwatch. He was one of the few kids he knew who still wore an old-fashioned watch. Most kids just used their phones to check the time, but Nate loved wearing a real watch. “I want to check out this new book on Ursus arctos.”

  “Oh, I know that one!” Nate’s best friend, Connor Fletcher, was in the backseat of the car. He leaned forward and said, “It’s a kind of bird, right?”

  Nate smiled to himself. “Yes,” he told Connor. “It has sharp teeth and can fly backward.”

  “Wow, that sounds cool—” Connor started, then stopped himself. There was a long pause from the backseat before he said, “You’re joking, aren’t you? There’s no bird that flies backward.”

  “Gotcha again!” Nate laughed. “You’re an easy target.”

  Connor sighed heavily. “My brothers tell me that every day.”

  Nate was an only child, but Connor’s family was big.

  Connor was the youngest of four brothers. They all had the same dark skin, curly hair, and gray eyes. For a long time, his brothers had him convinced that his parents found him in the grocery store parking lot until Nate explained genetics to him. He looked too much like the rest of the Fletchers for the parking lot story to be true.

  Nate’s wavy red hair was also a dominant genetic trait. His dad was a brown-haired science geek. Nate got the geek from Dad and the hair from Mom. Though to be fair, his mom was really smart too.

  “Ursus arctos is the scientific name for a brown bear,” Nate explained. Then he asked his mom again, “Please?” He tapped the face of his watch. “We aren’t supposed to meet our teacher for a whole half an hour. Can we go to the gift shop?” He clasped his hands together dramatically, adding, “Pretty please?”

  Nate’s mom was a librarian. It was hard for her to turn down buying a book. Which, of course, Nate knew.

  “Uh…” She was thinking about it as she pulled into a parking spot in front of the Natural History Museum.

  “We can also get some candy to share with everyone at the sleepover,” Connor suggested. “Maybe some gummy dinosaurs? We can identify them before we eat them.”

  “Oh, all right,” Nate’s mom gave in with a sigh and a grin.

  Nate turned his head and gave Connor a wink. They were a good team. Educational gummy candy—that was a brilliant idea. How could his mom say no?

  She handed Nate twenty dollars and said, “I’ll bring in your duffel bags. Meet me by the ticket booth.” His mom turned off the car engine. “Don’t be late,” she warned. “Mr. Steinberg was very clear about the time.”

  Nate nodded. Mr. Steinberg was their seventh-grade science teacher. He was young, funny, and the best science teacher Nate had ever had. He was also a big stickler for punctuality.

  “We won’t be late,” Nate assured her, taking one last look at his watch. He and Connor got out of the car.

  “Hurry,” Nate told Connor. “Every second counts!” They took off running.

  Two minutes later, they were inside the Natural History Museum gift shop.

  Nate had been to a lot of museum stores, but this one was extra epic. The shelves were packed with all the kinds of stuff he liked. Rocks, minerals, puzzles, build-your-own dinosaur kits, boxes of fake bugs, dead butterfly dioramas, and books—lots and lots of books.

  His head was spinning. If only he had more time. If only they could sleep in the gift shop instead of the museum!

  Nate went straight to the bookshelf and easily found the book he wanted to buy. He’d seen it online when he’d looked up the museum and the exhibits. Nate liked to be prepared. He’d never been to this museum before, so he’d printed a map of the museum and studied the guides to the most popular exhib
its.

  The heavy volume had a big brown bear on the cover. Inside, there were “a thousand facts” about bears. Nate wondered how many of the thousand he knew already. He flipped through the pages. On page twelve, he found one thing he didn’t know about bear habitats in Oregon. That small detail confirmed for him that he wanted the book.

  “Connor?” he called his friend’s name. They’d separated at the entrance of the shop. Connor went straight to the edible stuff, while Nate ran the other way.

  “Over here,” Connor shouted back. “You aren’t going to believe what they have!”

  Nate hurried around a display of T-shirts and tote bags. He wanted to stop and look at the shirts, but Connor was waiting. Besides, he didn’t have enough money. The one book and some candy was all they could afford.

  “Check it,” Connor said, holding up a lollipop with a dead scorpion inside. “You’re supposed to eat the bug!”

  “Gross.” Nate stuck out his tongue. “Yuck.”

  “My brothers would love these,” Connor said. “Of course, they’d probably try to force me to eat the bugs for them….” He quickly put the suckers back on the shelf. “So, no thanks.”

  “Did you find gummy candy?” Nate asked, looking over the shelves of chocolate “dinosaur eggs” and licorice ropes, with knot-tying instructions.

  “Got them.” Connor held up a big bag, which said there were five types of dinosaurs inside.

  “The brontosauruses look especially delicious!” Nate said, taking the colorful bag. He added up the prices and realized there was going to be a little money leftover. “We have enough to get those licorice ropes too,” he told Connor. “I want to try making the knots.”

  “Candy that comes with a book,” Connor teased him. “You’re predictable.”

  Nate laughed. They carried their choices to the counter, where an odd-looking woman stood at the cash register. There was no line, in fact, Nate noticed, they were the only two shoppers in the store. And yet, she didn’t rush to help them. She didn’t seem to be doing anything except standing there, staring at Nate and Connor.

  The tall, thin woman had long black hair, pale skin, and a narrow nose. But that wasn’t what made her odd. It was her eyes. When she first looked up at Nate, he would have sworn they were green, but a few seconds later, they seemed to be purple. Nate glanced away and when he looked back, she was still staring, but now they were brown. They seemed to change color every few seconds.

  Nate elbowed Connor to see if he was noticing the same thing, but Connor was busy reading the little pamphlet that came with the licorice ropes. He hadn’t looked up at the woman at all.

  “Did you know the strongest knot is called a Palomar?” Connor asked, pointing at an illustration.

  “Those are best for fishing,” Nate replied automatically, keeping his eyes pinned on the woman. Why hadn’t she asked to help them yet? “A figure eight is best for climbing.”

  “Show-off.” Connor shut the book and set it on the counter. “We better pay and get out of here.”

  “That’s what I’m trying to do—” Nate whispered, again looking at the woman with the yellow eyes. “Um, excuse me?” he said loudly and in his most polite voice. “We need to check out.”

  “Oh,” the woman said, as if seeing Nate standing there for the first time. “I see….” She reached out for their items and stopped. “You look very familiar,” she said to Connor. “Do I know you? You look so much like the boy who…” her voice softened, and in a whisper, she finished, “disappeared.”

  “Uh, I’ve never been here before,” Connor told her. He also shook his head. Nate noticed Connor’s hands were shaking. “But my brother Chris told me about the kid who disappeared.”

  “Such a sad story,” the woman said, gathering up the items on the counter and scanning them at the register. “A real tragedy.”

  “I thought Chris was kidding when he told me about that,” Connor said. “It’s not true, is it?”

  “It’s true,” she said flatly. “Wait here. I’ll be right back.” She excused herself to get more museum store bags in the storage room.

  The instant she was gone, Nate turned to Connor. “What story? What kid?”

  “Chris was messing with me at dinner last night,” Connor said quickly. “He told me that he knew someone who knew someone who knew the best friend of the sister of a kid our age who vanished from here.”

  “Vanished?” Nate echoed. “Like someone was kidnapped from the museum?”

  “No. That’s not what Chris said,” Connor replied. “He told me that the exhibits in the museum are creepy, and that the stuffed dead animals in the displays come to life at night. The animals snagged some kid from his field trip. He was never seen again.” Connor shuddered as a shiver ran through him. “You know, there are predators like grizzly bears and T. rexes and lions in the exhibits, so maybe they ate the kid. No one knows what happened. But he was gone in the morning and never seen again.”

  “Hmm,” Nate said, considering the story.

  Connor clearly did not want to believe it. He shut his eyes. “I told Chris it was bogus. I said he was lying.” He opened his eyes again, wide this time. “But then a woman who works here says it’s all true. Do you think it might be?”

  Nate knew that Connor did not like scary stories. He hated scary movies. And refused to read scary stories. It would have been really easy for Chris and the other brothers to convince him not to come on the sleepover. One frightening tale about a missing kid, and Connor would have happily stayed home, safe in his bedroom.

  “I’m sure it’s a legend,” Nate told Connor, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Your brothers are always messing with your head.”

  “That’s what I thought too, until now.” He pointed at the cashier. She was coming back their way with a box of store bags in one hand and a leather book in the other.

  “But what if it’s true?” Connor asked in a panicked voice. “I can’t stay all night in a haunted museum! I just can’t.”

  “It’s not true,” Nate assured him. “Displays only come to life in the movies. And if there was a kid who disappeared in the museum, don’t you think the school would cancel all field trips and sleepovers?”

  “I guess, you’re right,” Connor agreed, though he didn’t seem convinced. “It’s gotta be a prank.” He looked at Nate and asked, “But how’s it possible that the woman who runs the gift shop is in on my brother’s hoax?”

  Nate didn’t want Connor to leave and go home. “It’s a coincidence. This is a classic museum ghost story. Your brothers knew it because they all did the sleepover when they were in middle school. Now she’s messing with us too.” Nate was certain that was the truth. “I’ll ask her. I’m sure she’ll confess if she realizes how nervous this made you. Then we can all laugh about it.”

  The woman joined them at the counter. She took Nate’s money and put their purchases in a bag. It wasn’t until after she gave him the change that he realized he didn’t see where she had put the leather journal she’d been carrying. At least, he assumed it was a journal. He hadn’t gotten a very good look at it.

  Before they left the store, Nate asked the woman, “Hey, about the missing-kid story. It’s a legend, right? Like something everyone who works here says to make the sleepovers more interesting?”

  She turned away from Nate and pinned her hazel eyes on Connor. “The story of Blake Turner is absolutely true. His spirit haunts the museum.”

  Read Nate and Conner’s story

  (if you dare) in

  HAUNTED

  SLEEPOVER

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  You don’t have to read the />
  books in order. But if you want to, here’s the right order:

  Swamp Scarefest

  Werewolf Weekend

  Clone Camp!

  Zombie Apocalypse

  Vampire Vacation