by R. L. Stine
“We know,” Eric said impatiently, looking back to the doorway.
“That means I’m related to them too,” Jan said.
“We know that too,” Eric said. “Listen, a lot has happened. Simon and Edward—they’re the same person.”
“What?” Jan cried, putting her hands on her aunt’s shoulders, as if for support.
“He’s a split personality,” Cari explained.
“Is that why he locked me in down here?” Rose asked, shaking her head.
“We don’t really have time to explain,” Eric said nervously.
“You’ve been down here the whole time?” Craig asked Rose. “You weren’t the woman in Simon’s room arguing about the party?”
“Woman? Party?” Now Rose was even more confused.
“Jan, how did you get locked in with Rose?” Cari asked.
“I … uh … Edward saw me. In the tunnel. I guess he was afraid I’d discover Rose, so he came to my room late at night. He grabbed me and took me to this room and locked me in with her.”
“But what were you doing in the tunnel?” Cari demanded.
Jan’s face reddened. She suddenly looked very embarrassed. “Uh … I think I owe you guys an apology,” she said quietly.
They waited for her to explain.
“You see,” Jan started slowly, “I knew about the tunnel before you three did. I’d discovered another entrance to it the night before.”
“But why didn’t you tell us about it?” Cari interrupted.
“I wanted to set something up to scare you guys,” Jan admitted. “You know. Like the skull and the sticky protoplasm in that little room.”
“Huh? You did that?” Eric cried.
Jan nodded her head. “Yeah. I found the skull in the tunnel and I thought I’d just play a joke. But then I got into it. I did all the ghost stuff here in the hotel. None of it was real. I made it all up. I put the skull in the little room. And that night we had the picnic dinner on the beach and I screamed and said I’d seen the ghost, I was making that all up. And I’m the one who followed you down the hall that night, Cari, whispering your name. And I put the sticky stuff on your doorknob.”
Jan moved forward and gave Cari another hug. “I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. It was so stupid of me.”
“But why?” Cari asked. “Why did you do all that? I don’t understand, Jan.”
Jan avoided Cari’s stare. “I just wanted you to believe me. I was so tired of the three of you laughing at me all the time, teasing me. I just wanted to make you believe. You tried to act tough, but I knew I could convince you.” A smile crossed her face. “I did have you believing it for a while. Admit it.”
“Come on, guys,” Eric said from the doorway. “We really have to get out of here. We made a lot of noise breaking down that door. If Edward or Martin heard us, they’ll be here any second.”
“Yes. We’ve got to keep going to the beach,” Cari agreed.
“It’s okay with me. I can’t wait to get out of this smelly little room,” Rose said. She took a few steps. Then her face turned white, her eyes rolled up, and she started to slump to the floor.
Jan caught her before she fell. “Aunt Rose?”
“I feel so faint,” Rose said groggily, struggling to steady herself, leaning heavily against Jan.
Cari hurried over to help.
“She’s probably weak from hunger,” Jan said, looking very worried. “Edward only feeds us once a day.”
“You’ll never make it all the way through the tunnel. We’ve got to get you something to eat,” Cari said.
“We can make our way back to the kitchen,” Craig said, starting toward the door.
“But what if Martin or Edward—” Eric started.
“We’ll have to take our chances,” Jan said. “Come on. We’ll grab some food for her and then go out the back way.”
With the two girls helping Rose, they made their way back the way they had come, moving quickly but carefully through the dark tunnel. “Watch out for the spiderwebs. They’re just around this corner,” Cari warned.
They ducked low to avoid them and kept walking.
We’re going to be lost in this darkness forever, Cari thought, supporting Rose.
But to her surprise, the door leading to the dining room appeared quickly.
Eric pushed it open a crack and listened. “No one there,” he whispered. “Come on.”
They pushed the door open just enough to slip out, and crept silently down the dining-room wall to the kitchen.
“Now what?” Craig whispered.
“It’s too dark. We have to turn on some lights,” Cari whispered.
It took Eric a while, but he managed to find the light switches. He clicked on one row of fluorescent ceiling lights.
The kitchen was clean and bare. The stainless-steel work counters had been cleared. Copper pans of varying sizes hung above the enormous range.
Cari had her eye on the kitchen door.
Were Simon and Martin out in the woods, trying to track the three teenagers down? If so, they would be safe here awhile.
But if Simon or Martin returned from the woods, they would see the kitchen light.
And then …
Cari and Jan helped Rose to a narrow rectangular table at the back of the kitchen, probably the table used by the kitchen staff for their meals. Making sure that Rose was seated comfortably, Cari hurried to the refrigerator.
“How about tuna fish salad?” Cari asked, pulling a large bowl off a shelf.
“Thank you, dear,” Rose said, her face still colorless and drawn.
Cari carried the big bowl to the table, put it in front of Rose, and found a fork for her.
Rose ate hungrily.
Cari and her friends stood waiting, watching, listening for any sound from the dining room.
We’ve got to get out, get out, get out. The words repeated in Cari’s mind.
Get out, get out, get out.
After a few minutes Rose put down her fork. Already she appeared to be stronger, some of the color had returned to her face. “Please, tell me what is going on here?” she asked.
Cari started to answer, but stopped.
Her mouth dropped open in horror.
Everyone turned to watch Martin stride into the room.
Chapter 30
OUT OF CONTROL AGAIN
“No! Get out!”
Cari screamed without realizing she had done so.
Martin stared menacingly at her, his black hair a wild halo around his head.
“Please—” Cari cried. “Let us go!”
Martin’s face softened. Still staring at Cari, he suddenly appeared more confused than menacing. His gaze shifted and he saw Rose for the first time—his gray eyes wide with disbelief.
“Rose, is that you?! What are you doing here?” he cried.
“Martin, I could hardly believe it when I heard you were still with Simon,” Rose said. “What’s going on? Why was I locked up? Why are these kids so terrified?”
Martin sighed. His shoulders rose and fell. His whole body seemed to shrink and collapse. Cari noticed to her great relief that he wasn’t carrying a hunting rifle.
“Simon is out of control,” he said and shrugged, his narrow shoulders bobbing up, then slowly down, his hands lifting from his sides in unhappy resignation.
“Out of control? Martin, he greeted me at the dock, wild and unkempt. Then he led me back here to a smelly little room in a dark tunnel and locked me in!”
Martin shook his head. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. You must believe me.”
He quickly crossed the kitchen, took her hand, and squeezed it. He appeared to be genuinely distressed and concerned.
What’s going on here? Cari wondered, watching the whole scene, still tensed, still ready to run, still wary of Martin.
There’s no reason to trust him, she thought.
Why is Rose being so gullible?
“I can’t believe he would keep you locked up,” Marti
n said, sadly shaking his head. “Well, yes. I guess I can believe it.” He let go of Rose’s hand and slumped onto the edge of the bench.
Sitting hunched over like that in his black suit, he looks like a deflated tire, Cari thought.
Despite Martin’s apologetic look, Cari found herself edging carefully toward the kitchen door. She glanced at Eric, who was standing in the center of the room between Jan and Craig, his hands shoved deep into his pockets, staring suspiciously at Martin.
“Well, you know Simon better than anyone, Martin,” Rose was saying.
“More than thirty years,” Martin said, his voice catching in his throat. “That’s how long I’ve been employed by the Fear family. I’ve worked solely for Simon for the past fifteen. Sometimes I think of him more as a brother than a$ an employer.” He sighed and then quickly added, “A very sick brother.”
“Where is he now?” Rose asked warily.
“Out in the woods, I think,” Martin answered quickly, glancing at Cari.
“In the woods?” Rose asked. “This time of night?” Without giving Martin a chance to answer, she launched into a barrage of questions. “Why isn’t the hotel open? Simon assured me there would be jobs for the kids. Where are all the guests? Has he locked them up too?”
“I thought I could manage Simon,” Martin said sadly, ignoring Rose’s questions, his hands clasped tightly in front of him as he slumped on the edge of the bench across from her. “I was wrong.”
He was silent for a long moment, lost in thought. Then he continued his story. “I brought him to this remote island because he had been so happy when we summered here. He was having problems. Serious problems. I thought he would get better. He was really enthusiastic about renovating the hotel. He sees a psychiatrist on the Cape, and I thought he was making progress. But in fact, he’s gotten worse.”
“Simon was fine when I knew him,” Rose said. “I wouldn’t have suggested coming if I thought—”
“I never knew he had asked you and the kids,” Martin interrupted. “I did everything I could to get them to leave.” He looked up at Jan, then continued. “I saw Jan snooping around in the tunnels. It gave me the idea to trap the kids in there for a while. I thought that would scare them enough to make them leave. I never dreamed you were in there too, Rose!”
Martin sighed and shook his head sadly. “It’s all been since Greta’s death,” he said in a low voice. “Now Simon is obsessed, obsessed with hunting people. At first I thought it was just one of his sick jokes. He always had a twisted sense of humor. But his hunting obsession was no joke. And I foolishly played along with it. Even when he bought the wax heads to hang in his trophy room. I thought it was just a joke. Sick … so sick.”
Cari heaved a sigh of relief. The human heads on the wall—they were only wax.
But her thoughts immediately turned grim.
We were to be his first real victims, she realized. His first real trophies.
“Why is Simon obsessed?” Rose asked.
“You know that Greta died in a hunting accident a few years ago,” Martin said darkly, lowering his voice so that Cari had to strain to hear him. “He’s been obsessed ever since. After Greta was killed, Simon’s mind just snapped. Don’t forget, they’d only been married a short time. It was too much for Simon, too great a loss. He couldn’t deal with it alone. So he split himself into others. He began to assume other identities. To share the grief, I believe.”
“He’s a split personality?” Rose asked.
“If he was wild and unkempt when he met you at the dock,” Martin told her, “he wasn’t Simon. He was in his other personality—that of Edward.”
“I see,” Rose said quietly.
Cari couldn’t help but feel nervous, standing in this open kitchen. She felt totally vulnerable. “Are you sure Simon is out in the woods?” she asked Martin, glancing out into the dark dining room.
“Reasonably sure,” Martin replied.
“Shouldn’t we go somewhere else?” Cari urged.
“There’s no point in running,” Martin said ominously, his face turning grim.
“Martin, what are you saying?” Rose asked.
“In his present state,” Martin replied, “in the role of Edward, he’s relentless.”
“Have you called the police?” Cari asked.
“No, he’s pulled the wires again. I tried to get to the Cape, to the police or his doctor, but Simon has hidden the dinghy,” Martin said. “I’ve been out searching for it. That’s where I’ve been the past few hours.”
“And?” Cari asked, knowing the answer from the grim look on Martin’s face.
“I couldn’t find it.”
“Find what? Is something missing?” a booming voice called out from the kitchen doorway.
Cari gasped aloud as Simon Fear burst into the room, hunting rifle in hand.
Chapter 31
MARTIN GOES FIRST
Simon was dressed as Edward, eye patch in place, the hunting rifle in his hand, his hair standing out from his head. His white trousers and safari jacket were wrinkled and mud stained, evidence of his long hunt through the woods.
After he stepped into the room and closed the kitchen doors, he slid a bolt into place, locking them all in. His eyes moved wildly from face to face, his expression mad and menacing.
“Simon—” Rose called out, jumping to her feet, one hand against the wall for support.
“Simon is gone,” he bellowed. “Simon had no taste for the hunt.”
“Go get Simon,” Rose said firmly. “Go get Simon—now,” she ordered. “I want to talk to him.” Her voice was strong and certain, only her eyes revealed her fear.
Simon paused for a moment, glaring at her.
“Go get Simon—right now!” Rose commanded.
He stared at her a few seconds more, then turned to Martin. “What are you doing here?” he asked suspiciously.
“Simon—” Martin started, speaking very softly.
“I’m Edward!” Simon bellowed furiously.
“Go get Simon!” Rose repeated.
It was clear that Simon had decided to ignore her.
He shifted the hunting rifle to his other hand and began to raise it to his shoulder.
“No! Put it down!” Martin screamed, moving quickly from behind the counter and rushing across the room to stop Simon.
With a loud, angry cry, Simon lifted the rifle, flung his arm back, and sent the thick wooden stock crashing into the side of Martin’s head.
Martin uttered a startled yelp. His eyes rolled up in his head. He slumped to the kitchen floor, his head snapping back and cracking on the hard tiles.
As Simon stared down at Martin’s unmoving body, Cari and her friends lunged for the kitchen door.
“Pull the bolt! No—push it!” Jan screamed in total panic.
The bolt wouldn’t budge.
Chapter 32
“SHOOT ME FIRST”
It all happened in slow motion to Cari. She felt as if she were outside her own body, watching the scene in the kitchen from just above it.
She was just an observer, watching herself and her friends give up on the bolt that barred the door and turn back to face Simon. Watching Rose press against the wall, her hands to her cheeks, her face revealing her shock and horror.
Once Simon was certain that the four teenagers weren’t about to escape, he looked down at Martin, who lay crumpled at his feet, his eyes wide open.
“That was some story you were telling them, Martin,” he said, breathing heavily, noisily, the hunting rifle gripped tightly at his side. “Some interesting story.”
He shifted his attention to Cari and her companions. “Too bad none of it was true,” he said heatedly.
He raked his hand through his wildly disheveled hair. Then his attention flitted back once again to the unconscious servant. “You shouldn’t tell lies, Martin. You shouldn’t tell lies during a hunting party.”
“Open the door, Edward,” Rose called from her spot against the ba
ck wall. “Open the kitchen door and let everyone out.”
“Why did you tell lies?” Simon asked Martin, ignoring Rose, giving no sign that he had even heard her.
He prodded Martin’s side lightly with the toe of his boot. “Why did you tell such lies about me, Martin? I thought you were my friend.”
He gave Martin a hard kick, then forgetting him, moved quickly to the four teenagers grouped around the Kitchen door.
Cari quickly came down to earth, no longer an observer. She felt heavy now, heavy with dread, uncertain whether she could move from her spot.
“Martin has made it so easy for me,” Simon said in Edward’s gruff voice, a grim smile crossing his red face.
Cari stared at the hunting rifle.
“So very easy for me,” he repeated, the smile broadening.
Cari stared at the rifle as it moved up to Simon’s shoulder.
The rifle.
The rifle that he had fired at them in the woods.
And in the hotel lobby.
“My own private shooting gallery,” Simon said, very pleased.
The rifle was poised on his shoulder now.
Cari couldn’t take her eyes off it.
“No—don’t shoot them! Simon—Edward—don’t shoot them!”
She heard Rose’s terrified screams, but they seemed far away now, somewhere off in the distance.
Cari stared at the rifle until her eyes blurred.
“No—please—I beg of you! Don’t shoot them!” Rose shrieked.
Simon aimed the rifle at Eric, then moved it to Craig, then back to Eric.
Staring at the barrel of the rifle, Cari stepped forward.
“Shoot me,” Cari said in a voice surprisingly calm. “Edward, shoot me first.”
Chapter 33
EDWARD SHOOTS CARI
Simon hesitated for a brief second, then trained the gun on Cari.
“It’s too easy,” he said with a dry, silent heave of a laugh. “It almost isn’t sporting. But I gave you a chance. I gave you a head start.”
