Ghost Camp

by R. L. Stine

  Contents

  Title Page

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  About the Author

  Also Available

  Copyright

  “You know I get bus sick, Harry,” Alex groaned.

  “Alex, give me a break.” I shoved my brother against the window. “We’re almost there. Don’t start thinking about getting bus sick now!”

  The bus rumbled over the narrow road. I held onto the seat in front of me. I gazed out the window.

  Nothing but pine trees. They whirred past in a blur of green. Sunlight bounced off the dusty glass of the window.

  We’re almost to Camp Spirit Moon, I thought happily.

  I couldn’t wait to get off the bus. My brother, Alex, and I were the only passengers. It was kind of creepy.

  The driver was hidden in front of a green curtain. I had glimpsed him as Alex and I climbed on board. He had a nice smile, a great suntan, curly blond hair, and a silver earring in one ear.

  “Welcome, dudes!” he greeted us.

  Once the long bus ride began, we didn’t see him or hear from him again. Creepy.

  Luckily, Alex and I get along okay. He’s a year younger than me. He’s eleven. But he’s as tall as I am. Some people call us the Altman twins, even though we’re not twins.

  We both have straight black hair, dark brown eyes, and serious faces. Our parents are always telling us to cheer up—even when we’re in really good moods!

  “I feel a little bus sick, Harry,” Alex complained.

  I turned away from the window. Alex suddenly looked very yellow. His chin trembled. A bad sign.

  “Alex, pretend you’re not on a bus,” I told him. “Pretend you’re in a car.”

  “But I get carsick, too,” he groaned.

  “Forget the car,” I said. Bad idea. Alex can get carsick when Mom backs down the driveway!

  It’s really a bad-news habit of his. His face turns a sick yellow. He starts to shake. And then it gets kind of messy.

  “You’ve got to hold on,” I told him. “We’ll be at camp soon. And then you’ll be fine.”

  He swallowed hard.

  The bus bounced over a deep hole in the road. Alex and I bounced with it.

  “I really feel sick,” Alex moaned.

  “I know!” I cried. “Sing a song. That always cures you. Sing a song, Alex. Sing it really loud. No one will hear. We’re the only ones on the bus.”

  Alex loves to sing. He has a beautiful voice.

  The music teacher at school says that Alex has perfect pitch. I’m not sure what that means. But I know it’s a good thing.

  Alex is serious about his singing. He’s in the chorus at school. Dad says he’s going to find a voice teacher for Alex this fall.

  I stared at my brother as the bus bounced again. His face was about as yellow as a banana skin. Not a good sign.

  “Go ahead—sing,” I urged him.

  Alex’s chin trembled. He cleared his throat. Then he began to sing a Beatles song we both really like.

  His voice bounced every time the bus bumped. But he started to look better as soon as he started to sing.

  Pretty smart idea, Harry, I congratulated myself.

  I watched the pine trees whir past in the sunlight and listened to Alex’s song. He really does have an awesome voice.

  Am I jealous?

  Maybe a little.

  But he can’t hit a tennis ball the way I can. And I can beat him in a swim race every time. So it evens out.

  Alex stopped singing. He shook his head unhappily. “I wish Mom and Dad signed me up for the music camp.” He sighed.

  “Alex, the summer is half over,” I reminded him. “How many times do we have to go over this? Mom and Dad waited too long. It was too late.”

  “I know,” Alex said, frowning. “But I wish—”

  “Camp Spirit Moon was the only camp we could get into this late in the summer,” I said. “Hey, look—!”

  I spotted two deer outside the window, a tall one and a little baby one. They were just standing there, staring at the bus as it sped by.

  “Yeah. Cool. Deer,” Alex muttered. He rolled his eyes.

  “Hey—lighten up,” I told him. My brother is so moody. Sometimes I just want to shake him. “Camp Spirit Moon may be the coolest camp on earth,” I said.

  “Or it may be a dump,” Alex replied. He picked at some stuffing that poked up from a hole in the bus seat.

  “The music camp is so great.” He sighed. “They put on two musicals each summer. That would have been so awesome!”

  “Alex, forget about it,” I told him. “Let’s enjoy Camp Spirit Moon. We only have a few weeks.”

  The bus suddenly screeched to a stop.

  Startled, I bounced forward, then back. I turned to the window, expecting to see a camp out there. But all I could see were pine trees. And more pine trees.

  “Camp Spirit Moon! Everybody out!” the driver called.

  Everybody? It was just Alex and me!

  The driver poked his blond head out from behind the curtain. He grinned at us. “How was the ride, dudes?” he asked.

  “Great,” I replied, stepping into the aisle. Alex didn’t say anything.

  The driver climbed out. We followed him around to the side of the bus. Bright sunlight made the tall grass sparkle all around us.

  He leaned into a compartment and pulled out our bags and sleeping bags. He set everything down on the grass.

  “Uh … where’s the camp?” Alex asked.

  I shielded my eyes with my hand and searched around. The narrow road curved through a forest of pine trees as far as I could see.

  “Right through there, dudes,” the driver said. He pointed to a dirt path that cut through the trees. “It’s a real short walk. You can’t miss it.”

  The driver shut the baggage compartment. He climbed back onto the bus. “Have a great time!” he called.

  The door shut. The bus roared away.

  Alex and I squinted through the bright sunlight at the dirt path. I swung my duffel bag over my shoulder. Then I tucked my sleeping bag under one arm.

  “Shouldn’t the camp send someone out here to greet us?” Alex asked.

  I shrugged. “You heard the driver. He said it’s a very short walk.”

  “But still,” Alex argued. “Shouldn’t they send a counselor to meet us out here on the road?”

  “It’s not the first day of camp,” I reminded him. “It’s the middle of the summer. Stop complaining about everything, Alex. Pick up your stuff, and let’s get going. It’s hot out here!”

  Sometimes I just have to be the big brother and order him around. Otherwise, we won’t get anywhere!

  He picked up his stuff, and I led the way to the path. Our sneakers crunched over the dry red dirt as we made our way through the trees.

  The driver hadn’t lied. We’d walked only two or three minutes when we came to a small, grassy clearing. A wooden sign with red painted letters proclaimed CAMP SPIRIT MOON. An arrow pointed to the right.

  “See? We’re here!” I declared cheerfully.

  We followed a short path up a low, sloping hill. Two brown rabbits scurried past, nearly in front of our feet. Red and yellow wildflowers swayed along the side of the hill.

  When we reached the top, we could see t
he camp.

  “It looks like a real camp!” I exclaimed.

  I could see rows of little white cabins stretching in front of a round blue lake. Several canoes were tied to a wooden dock that stuck out into the lake.

  A large stone building stood off to the side. Probably the mess hall or the meeting lodge. A round dirt area near the woods had benches around it. For campfires, I guessed.

  “Hey, Harry—they have a baseball diamond and a soccer field,” Alex said, pointing.

  “Excellent!” I cried.

  I saw a row of round red-and-white targets at the edge of the trees. “Wow! They have archery, too,” I told Alex. I love archery. I’m pretty good at it.

  I shifted the heavy duffel bag on my shoulder. We started down the hill to the camp.

  We both stopped halfway down the hill. And stared at each other.

  “Do you notice anything weird?” Alex asked.

  I nodded. “Yeah. I do.”

  I noticed something very weird. Something that made my throat tighten and my stomach suddenly feel heavy with dread.

  The camp was empty.

  No one there.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked, moving my eyes from cabin to cabin. No one in sight.

  I squinted at the lake behind the cabins. Two small, dark birds glided low over the sparkling water. No one swimming there.

  I turned to the woods that surrounded the camp. The afternoon sun had begun to lower itself over the pine trees. No sign of any campers in the woods.

  “Maybe we’re in the wrong place,” Alex said softly.

  “Huh? Wrong place?” I pointed to the sign. “How can we be in the wrong place? It says Camp Spirit Moon—doesn’t it?”

  “Maybe they all went on a field trip or something,” Alex suggested.

  I rolled my eyes. “Don’t you know anything about camp?” I snapped. “You don’t go on field trips. There’s nowhere to go!”

  “You don’t have to shout!” Alex whined.

  “Then stop saying such stupid things!” I replied angrily. “We’re all alone in the woods in an empty camp. We’ve got to think clearly.”

  “Maybe they’re all in that big stone building over there,” Alex suggested. “Let’s go check it out.”

  I didn’t see any signs of life there. Nothing moved. The whole camp was as still as a photograph.

  “Yeah. Come on,” I told Alex. “We might as well check it out.”

  We were still about halfway down the hill, following the path through the tangles of pine trees—when a loud cry made us both stop and gasp in surprise.

  “Yo! Hey! Wait up!”

  A red-haired boy, in white tennis shorts and a white T-shirt, appeared beside us. I guessed he was sixteen or seventeen.

  “Hey—where did you come from?” I cried. He really startled me. One second Alex and I were alone. The next second this red-haired guy was standing there, grinning at us.

  He pointed to the woods. “I was gathering firewood,” he explained. “I lost track of the time.”

  “Are you a counselor?” I asked.

  He wiped sweat off his forehead with the front of his T-shirt. “Yes. My name is Chris. You’re Harry and you’re Alex—right?”

  Alex and I nodded.

  “I’m sorry I’m late,” Chris apologized. “You weren’t worried, were you?”

  “Of course not,” I replied quickly.

  “Harry was a little scared. But I wasn’t,” Alex said. Sometimes Alex can really be a pain.

  “Where is everyone?” I asked Chris. “We didn’t see any campers, or counselors, or anyone.”

  “They all left,” Chris replied. He shook his head sadly. When he turned back to Alex and me, I saw the frightened expression on his face.

  “The three of us—we’re all alone out here,” he said in a trembling voice.

  “Huh? They left?” Alex cried shrilly. “But—but—where did they go?”

  “We can’t be all alone!” I cried. “The woods—”

  A smile spread over Chris’s freckled face. Then he burst out laughing. “Sorry, guys. I can’t keep a straight face.” He put his arms around our shoulders and led us toward the camp. “I’m just joking.”

  “Excuse me? That was a joke?” I demanded. I was feeling very confused.

  “It’s a Camp Spirit Moon joke,” Chris explained, still grinning. “We play it on all the new campers. Everyone hides in the woods when the new campers arrive at camp. Then a counselor tells them that the campers all ran away. That they’re all alone.”

  “Ha-ha. Very funny joke,” I said sarcastically.

  “You always try to scare the new campers?” Alex asked.

  Chris nodded. “Yeah. It’s a Camp Spirit Moon tradition. We have a lot of great traditions here. You’ll see. Tonight at the campfire—”

  He stopped when a big black-haired man—also dressed in white—came lumbering across the grass toward us. “Yo!” the man called in a booming, deep voice.

  “This is Uncle Marv,” Chris whispered. “He runs the camp.”

  “Yo!” Uncle Marv repeated as he stepped up to us. “Harry, what’s up?” He slapped me a high five that nearly knocked me into the trees.

  Uncle Marv grinned down at Alex and me. He was so huge—he reminded me of a big grizzly bear at the zoo back home.

  He had long, greasy black hair that fell wildly over his face. Tiny, round blue eyes—like marbles—under bushy black eyebrows.

  His arms bulged out from under his T-shirt. Powerful arms like a wrestler’s. His neck was as wide as a tree trunk!

  He reached down and shook Alex’s hand. I heard a loud crunch and saw Alex gasp in pain.

  “Good firm handshake, son,” Uncle Marv told Alex. He turned to me. “Did Chris play our little ‘Alone in the Woods’ joke on you guys?” His voice boomed so loud, I wanted to cover my ears.

  Does Uncle Marv ever whisper? I wondered.

  “Yeah. He fooled us,” I confessed. “I really thought there was no one here.”

  Uncle Marv’s tiny blue eyes sparkled. “It’s one of our oldest traditions,” he said, grinning. What a grin! It looked to me as if he had at least six rows of teeth!

  “Before I take you to your cabin, I want to teach you the Camp Spirit Moon greeting,” Uncle Marv said. “Chris and I will show it to you.”

  They stood facing each other.

  “Yohhhhhhhh, Spirits!” Uncle Marv bellowed.

  “Yohhhhhhhh, Spirits!” Chris boomed back.

  Then they gave each other a left-handed salute, placing the hand on the nose, then swinging it straight out in the air.

  “That’s how Camp Spirit Moon campers greet each other,” Uncle Marv told us. He pushed Alex and me together. “You two try it.”

  I don’t know about you, but this kind of thing embarrasses me. I don’t like funny greetings and salutes. It makes me feel like a jerk.

  But I had just arrived at camp. And I didn’t want Uncle Marv to think I was a bad sport. So I stood in front of my brother. “Yohhhhhhhh, Spirits!” I shouted. And I gave Alex a sharp nose salute.

  “Yohhhhhhhh, Spirits!” Alex showed a lot more enthusiasm than I did. He likes this kind of thing. He flashed me a sharp salute.

  Uncle Marv tossed back his head in a loud, bellowing laugh. “Very good, guys! I think you’re both going to be great Camp Spirit Moon campers.”

  He winked at Chris. “Of course, the campfire tonight is the real test.”

  Chris nodded, grinning.

  “The campfire tonight?” I asked. “A test?”

  Uncle Marv patted my shoulder. “Don’t worry about it, Harry.”

  Something about the way he said that made me worry a lot.

  “All new campers come to a Welcoming Campfire,” Chris explained. “It’s a chance to learn our Camp Spirit Moon traditions.”

  “Don’t tell them any more about it,” Uncle Marv told Chris sharply. “We want them to be surprised—don’t we?”

  “Surprised—?” I choked out.


  Why did I suddenly have such a bad feeling? Why did my throat tighten up again? Why did I have a fluttering feeling in my chest?

  “Do we sing camp songs at the Welcoming Campfire?” Alex asked. “I’m really into singing. I take voice lessons back home and—”

  “Don’t worry. You’ll sing. Plenty,” Uncle Marv interrupted in a low, almost menacing voice.

  I caught the cold look in his tiny eyes—cold as blue ice. And I felt a shiver roll down my back.

  He’s trying to scare us, I thought. It’s all a joke. He’s having fun with us. He always tries to scare new campers. It’s a Camp Spirit Moon tradition.

  “I think you boys will enjoy the campfire tonight,” Uncle Marv boomed. “If you survive it!”

  He and Chris shared a laugh.

  “Catch you later,” Chris said. He gave Alex and me a nose salute and vanished into the woods.

  “This will be your bunk,” Uncle Marv announced. He pulled open the screen door of a tiny white cabin. “Whoa!” He nearly pulled the door off its hinges.

  Alex and I dragged our duffels and sleeping bags into the cabin. I saw bunk beds against three of the walls. Narrow wooden chests of drawers. Cubbyholes for storing things.

  The walls were white. A light dangling from the ceiling cast a bright glow. The afternoon sun sent orange rays through a small window above one of the bunk beds.

  Not bad, I thought.

  “That bunk is free,” Uncle Marv told us, pointing to the bed against the window. “You can decide who gets the top and who gets the bottom.”

  “I need the bottom,” Alex said quickly. “I toss and turn a lot at night.”

  “And he sings in his sleep,” I told Uncle Marv. “Do you believe it? Alex is so into singing, he doesn’t even stop when he’s sleeping!”

  “You will have to try out for the talent show,” Uncle Marv told Alex. And then he repeated in a low voice, “If you survive tonight.” He laughed.

  Why did he keep saying that?

  He’s kidding, I reminded myself. Uncle Marv is just kidding.

  “The boys’ cabins are on the left,” Uncle Marv told us. “And the girls’ cabins are on the right. We all use the lodge and mess hall. It’s that big stone building near the woods.”

  “Should we unpack now?” Alex asked.

  Uncle Marv pushed back his greasy black hair. “Yes. Use any cubbies that are empty. You’d better hurry, guys. The rest of the campers will be back from the woods soon with firewood. It will be time for our campfire.”