As we sat down I saw Miss Possum closing the big double doors. When she had them secured she leaned back against them, folded her arms, and nodded at someone across the gym. I quickly turned to see who it was.
The fifth-grade teacher stood in front of the emergency exit. He nodded back at Miss Possum, folded his arms, and leaned against the door, blocking the exit. My heart began to pound but no one else seemed to notice we were trapped here.
A lecture stand had been set up and as soon as we were seated, a man came up and stood behind it. He was big and his wiry gray hair was bushy, almost like fur. He held up his hand for silence even though no one was making a sound.
Then he smiled. He had very large teeth. “I am Mr. Smiley, your new principal,” he said. “I’ve called this assembly to tell you that the search party has found no trace of your former principal or your gym teacher. While this is very sad that’s no reason to frighten the younger students with ridiculous stories.”
Mr. Smiley paused and looked around, frowning so hard his bristling eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead. “We suspect that Mr. Clawson and Mr. Grunter somehow got off the path and slipped into a bog. The bogs in the swamp are very dangerous. Many are full of quicksand and can swallow a grown man in just a few minutes. We may never find their bodies.”
Behind me someone whimpered.
Mr. Smiley narrowed his eyes at the sound. “Our search party did find something, though. What we discovered was”—he paused and looked around to make sure he had our attention. “Wolves!”
“But the wolves helped us!” Kim called out, standing up. “They saved us.”
Mr. Smiley turned his terrible gaze on her. “Wolves are vicious, savage animals,” he said in a low rumbling voice. “It was the wolves who attacked you, you foolish child.”
Kim dropped back into her seat, white and shaking.
“It was clear from their tracks that a pack of wolves attacked the bus you kids were hiding in the night of the field trip. The wolves were obviously in a killing frenzy. You are all lucky to be alive. It seems clear that your principal and gym teacher were savagely attacked by this possibly rabid pack. In their struggles to escape the two men stumbled into a bog—which would explain why we found only a few shreds of their clothing.”
Mr. Smiley sighed deeply. “Yes,” he said to himself, “that’s most likely what happened. But you have nothing more to fear. We will hunt down those murdering wolves and exterminate every last one of them! Now, I want you to go back to your classes and put this behind you. IS THAT CLEAR?”
Under the force of Mr. Smiley’s thundering voice, a lot of kids mumbled promises not to speak of monsters anymore. The new principal smiled, showing lots of big yellow teeth. “And now I’ll explain some of the new rules that are going to be in force around here,” he said. But as he started to talk about hall passes and late notes and detention, my mind wandered.
I was worried about my wolf family. If Mr. Smiley had his way, the humans would be hunting them again. Blaming the real wolves for all the damage the werewolves were doing. But what could I do? How could I convince Fox Hollow about the real danger?
Suddenly, something grabbed my leg.
I squawked and jerked my foot. The thing held on, its claws sinking into my ankle.
It had uncanny strength and it was pulling me down. Down into the darkness under the bleachers.
Chapter 8
I felt myself slipping down and grabbed the edge of the bench, hanging on with all my strength. The principal was still droning on about new rules. No one had noticed what was happening to me but I was afraid to call out.
“Gruff!” somebody whispered.
It was Paul. He grabbed hold of my arm and tried to pull me back into my seat. But whatever had me from below wouldn’t let go.
“Wolf-boy!” came a whispered hiss from the dark space below. The voice sounded strangely familiar.
I peered into the darkness below the bleachers. A face appeared out of the shadows. “It’s me! Rick!”
Big Rick, the bully, and my enemy since the first day of school. He gave my ankle another tug and let go. “I have to talk to you,” he whispered urgently. “Paul, too.”
With one eye on the principal I crept down under the bleachers. Paul followed.
“What’s up, Rick?” Paul asked. “Why all the secrecy?”
Rick had had close contact with a werewolf and it seemed to have affected him a lot. His face was pale and drawn and I noticed a streak of his hair had turned completely white. A werewolf had pulled him out of a sucking bog, saving his life. Of course, he didn’t know the werewolf was me.
“I saw one of those monsters last night,” Rick explained, his voice shaking. “A werewolf with gleaming red eyes. It looked about ten feet tall and hairy all over. Horrible! But that’s not the worst thing.” He shuddered, too overwhelmed to speak.
“What?” asked Paul urgently. “What could be worse?”
Rick started to speak. “It”—his voice cracked. He swallowed and tried again, his terrified voice a raspy croak. “It was prowling around your house.”
Paul sucked in his breath. “Our house!”
Rick nodded. “I hid in some bushes across the street. It sniffed around for a while and then I think it disappeared into the woods behind your house. For hours I was afraid to move. I thought it would find me but it was too concentrated on your house. Wow, man, I’d watch out if I were you. There’s a monster hanging around right outside your door!”
I tried to look as shocked and horrified as Paul. It wasn’t that hard. I really did feel horrible. Rick was right, he had seen a werewolf. But the hideous beast was probably me!
Chapter 9
After the assembly the school settled uneasily back into routine. As the days passed the other kids seemed to slowly forget what had happened and began joking around in class again and meeting after school to play baseball and soccer. In a couple of weeks it almost seemed like nothing had ever happened. For everybody else life was ordinary again.
But not for me. Even though my English was getting so good the other kids no longer teased me about how I talked, I couldn’t just relax and be like everybody else. I knew the werewolves would be back. I knew they were plotting something new for the next full moon. I had to do something to save the town and my new family. But what? I wished I knew more about werewolves. Even though I was one myself, I didn’t know much about them.
Then I remembered Kim was always going to the school library when she needed information about anything. Maybe there would be something in the library that could help me. I could hardly wait for school to end.
As soon as class let out, I hurried to the library. The door was open but there was no one at the librarian’s desk.
“Hello?” I called out.
No answer. There didn’t seem to be anyone around. The round tables at the front of the room were all empty. I hesitantly approached the stacks of bookshelves that were arranged in long rows over most of the big room.
My footsteps echoed loudly on the polished wooden floor. There was an itchy feeling between my shoulder blades, as if someone was watching me. But there was no one here. Had to be my imagination.
It was probably just as well the librarian was out, I thought uneasily. I didn’t want to explain why I was looking for books on werewolves. But I didn’t have any idea where to start looking.
I entered the first row of stacks. The bookshelves towered over my head. I had the oddest feeling that the books on the top shelf were inching forward, about to topple onto my head. But of course when I looked up, nothing had moved an inch.
I tried to shake off my jitters and concentrate. My eye was caught by books on lots of interesting subjects—dinosaurs, spaceships, mountains—but I pulled myself away. For some reason I felt I should hurry, like I didn’t have much time.
Reaching the end of the first stack, I turned up the second row. But as I began examining the shelves of books, I heard a board creak. It was coming
from the row I had just left! I stiffened and held my breath and listened carefully.
CRRREEEAAK!
There it was again! Someone was stalking me! I hunched over and tiptoed down the row back the way I had come. When I reached the end of the stack, I paused. Then I whipped around the corner and leaped out.
“Gotcha!” I cried.
To the empty air. There was nothing there. The row was empty. I felt really foolish. Wincing to myself, I went back to my search, ignoring the creepy feeling between my shoulder blades. But the itch kept distracting me. It felt like something was perched in a corner of the ceiling, watching me and cackling to itself. But I refused even to look around. It was too silly.
I didn’t find any books on werewolves or any kind of monsters in the second stack or the third or the fourth. I was almost halfway through the library. Doors slammed in the distance as the last of the teachers went home. I realized the building must be deserted except for me.
I needed to hurry, or risk being locked in here for the night.
I turned into the fifth stack. Instantly my eyes went to a book that was sticking out at the far end of the row, on the top shelf above my head.
A red-eyed monster stared at me from the cover, as if daring me to come closer. It had a long, evil tongue and sharp, slavering fangs, just like a real werewolf.
For a second I couldn’t move a muscle. Then my heart began to pound. The monster on the book cover seemed to grin, as if daring me to reach for it. I was afraid but I was also convinced that there was important information in that book. I had to have it.
My hand was trembling. I reached up. The book was just out of my grasp. I stretched up on my toes as tall as I could but I still couldn’t quite reach it. I’d have to climb up on the bookshelves themselves.
The shelves were crowded and I could barely fit the toe of my sneaker on the edge. But all I needed was a few more inches. A quick boost up should do it. I put my weight on my toe and jumped up, reaching for the book with the monster on the cover. I grasped it with my fingertips.
At that instant, the lights went out!
Chapter 10
The room plunged into darkness. I yelped and fell backward. Above me books shifted and began to fall.
CRASH.
“Ow! Ooh!”
Sharp-cornered books rained down on my skull. I scrambled to get out from under. Something didn’t want me to have that book. But spooked as I was, I hadn’t let go of it. I clenched my fingers tighter and pulled the book out of the pile. Then I scurried on all fours to the end of the row.
I heard shuffling footsteps. Something large, headed my way! I had to get out of here. I got up as quietly as I could and tried to remember where the door was. The sound of heavy breathing was confusing my thoughts.
Panicking, I started to run.
“Oooof!”
I ran smack into the corner of a bookshelf, banging my knee. I rubbed my knee, trying not to groan. Which way was the door? Tucking the book under my arm, I inched forward in the darkness, feeling my way, trying to stay absolutely silent.
Was that laughter I heard? Low, evil laughter? Or was it just my blood pounding through my heart?
I kept moving, feeling in front of me with my free hand, fighting the urge to break into a run. Behind me there was a sudden loud clatter. More books falling. I jumped and stubbed my toe on something metal. It skittered across the floor with a shrieking noise.
A chair! Ignoring my throbbing toe I reached out. My hand touched the back of another chair and then the surface of the table. I felt a surge of hope. I’d reached the front of the room where the tables and chairs were arranged. I only had a few more feet to go.
But as I made a dash for the door it swung open. A flood of light blinded me.
“Well!”
I blinked. Standing in the doorway was a small gray-haired lady with her hair twisted up in a bun. She had a ferocious scowl on her face.
“I thought I heard someone banging around in here,” she said. “Whatever are you doing?”
I stammered. “I—I wanted a book. Then the lights went out.”
“I turned them out,” said the lady. “I didn’t think anyone was in here. It’s late, you know.”
I edged toward the door, afraid to look over my shoulder. “Yes, well, I got my book. Maybe we should leave now.”
“Not on your life, young man. Gruff, isn’t it?” She frowned and her sharp brown eyes seemed to bore right through me.
My breath caught in my chest. She wasn’t going to let me go! It was her all along! And now I was trapped.
She took a step toward me.
I took a step backward.
“I heard a mess of books falling off the shelves,” she said. “And you’re planning to leave them there for someone else to pick up? I don’t think so. We’ll just go back there right now and take care of it.” She smiled. “I’m the librarian. Mrs. Bookbinder. Come along.”
I let my breath out. Maybe she wasn’t one of the werewolves. But that meant there was still a monster waiting silently somewhere in the stacks. We wouldn’t see it until it pounced on us.
“What are you waiting for, young man?” asked Mrs. Bookbinder with an exasperated sigh. “Let’s go. You can show me the books you knocked over.”
“Yes, Mrs. Bookbinder.” I followed her, dragging my feet. They were itching to run out the door.
“What’s the book that was so important?” asked Mrs. Bookbinder.
I didn’t want to show it to her but she insisted, prying it out of my hand. “Butterfly collecting?” asked Mrs. Bookbinder, sounding surprised. “How interesting.”
What? I looked down at the book I was clutching. “Oh, no,” I said. “I picked up the wrong one!”
“No problem,” said Mrs. Bookbinder cheerfully. “My goodness, what a mess,” she added, looking at the pile of books that had fallen. “No doubt we’ll find your book here. What was it about?”
I mumbled something and hurried ahead of her to start picking up books.
“What’s that?” Mrs. Bookbinder pushed a wheeled ladder toward me from the end of the aisle. I’d never even noticed it. She got up on the ladder and started shelving books. “I didn’t hear you,” she said. “What are you looking for?”
“Werewolves,” I whispered. My eyes darted over the books on the floor. But I didn’t see the cover I was looking for. “I want to know about werewolves.”
She jumped down off the ladder and I ducked away, expecting her to turn into a red-eyed monster. She leaned toward me, showing small, pointy teeth.
“No!” I cried, stumbling backward.
Mrs. Bookbinder looked startled. “Are you all right?” she asked, straightening up with a book in her hand.
“Fine,” I mumbled sheepishly. “I guess I got a little spooked in the dark before.”
“Mmm.” The librarian didn’t look like she quite believed me. “Is this the book you’re looking for?”
She held up the book. I looked at it uneasily. The cover was the same, but different somehow. The eyes were red but they weren’t glowing, and the red was too tame. The werewolf’s face looked like a cross between a dog and a human. And not a very ferocious dog at that. Even the teeth were wrong. It wasn’t in the least scary, now that I had a good look at it.
“Yes,” I said, taking it. “I think so.”
The librarian chuckled. Then suddenly her face got very serious. “There’s something you should know, Gruff,” she said, “about that book.”
That’s when the door slammed open and a voice like evil thunder shook the room.
Chapter 11
“MRS. BOOKBINDER!”
I shuddered in fear as the booming voice rattled the glass in the windows, but the librarian just sighed. “Yes, Mr. Smiley,” she called out. “I’m here.”
Then she turned to me with a furtive motion. “Quick, Gruff. Take this one, too.” She thrust the butterfly book into my hands. “You don’t want the principal to see you with a book on were
wolves.”
Mrs. Bookbinder hurried past me out of the stacks. “I was just helping one of our young pupils,” she explained. “Come along, Gruff. Time for you to be getting home.”
Pressing the books together so only the butterfly cover showed, I followed her. Our new principal stood in the doorway. There was no room to get by him. “You must be the wolf-boy,” he said ominously. “I’ve heard about you.”
He stared at me for another long moment. His eyes burned right through me. Then he stepped aside.
I was out of there like a shot!
In spite of my shaking knees, I ran all the way home.
Kim and Paul were doing their homework. Mr. Parker was still at Wolfe Industries and Mrs. Parker wasn’t home from her job at the day-care center yet. I hurried upstairs, went into my room, and closed the door.
I tossed the butterfly book aside. But when I finally sat alone with the werewolf book in my hands, I was afraid to open it.
I could see it wasn’t a real werewolf on the cover—I knew what they looked like! But the book was old and covered in leather. The leather was soft and felt like skin. Not human skin, it was too thick. No, it felt like werewolf skin.
“Go ahead!” I silently urged myself. “Do it!”
Finally I forced myself to open the book. The paper was yellow and crackly.
I still wasn’t a good reader even though I could speak almost as good as the other kids now. I’d only been reading for a short time and Kim told me she started learning to read when she was six, so I didn’t know if I’d ever catch up. But I figured even Kim and Paul would have a tough time with this book. The printing was small and faded with age. There were a lot of big words, words I’d never heard of.
But I hungered to know what I was. So I began at the beginning. And there, on the first page, were words that struck me with awe and dread.
“RULES OF THE WEREING”
The Wereing Page 2
