Camp Fear Ghouls by R.L. Stine Read Free Book Online Page A

Caroline about how coolthe Camp Fear Girls were. It was all my fault she quit the scouts.
    â€œOkay, okay,” I told Caroline. “We’ll go together. But I’ll have to ask my mom first. And besides, I never got a written invitation or a permission—”
    At that second the mail slot in our front door flipped up. A yellow envelope dropped inside. I didn’t have to open it. I knew what it was.
    â€œNever mind. I think my invitation just arrived,” I told Caroline.
    â€œThen it’s settled,” Caroline announced. “We’re both going on the camp-out.”
    â€œYay,” I said with a sinking feeling. “I can’t wait.”
    *  *  *
    Friday night Caroline and I stood side by side in my driveway. We had our sleeping bags, our backpacks, and our signed permission slips.
    â€œAre you sure they’re coming to pick us up?” Caroline asked, shivering a little in the night air.
    â€œYou read the invitation. It said they’d be here at eight o’clock,” I replied.
    Caroline slipped on her jacket. I had to help her with one of her sleeves. When I glanced up, the black van sat in the driveway.
    â€œWhoa,” Caroline murmured. “When did that pull up?”
    I shrugged.
    The driver was the same weird lady. She stared straight ahead while we loaded our gear into the back of the van.
    â€œHi, I’m Caroline.” Caroline stuck her head between the front seats.
    The woman stared straight ahead.
    â€œDon’t even bother,” I whispered as I tugged the sliding door closed. “She won’t answer you.”
    The old lady hit the gas, and the van peeled out of the driveway.
    â€œYikes!” Caroline cried, struggling to put on her seat belt.
    The van whipped down River Road, then whizzed across Mill Bridge.
    We zoomed down Fear Street. I flew forward and crashed into the seat in front of me as the van screeched to a halt.
    I peered out the window. The van sat in front of a dark cluster of trees. The Camp Fear Girls were nowhere in sight.
    â€œGet out,” the driver growled.
    â€œWhere are we?” Caroline asked.
    The woman pointed toward the thick grove of trees. “The Fear Street Woods.”
    Caroline clutched my arm. “Nobody told me anything about camping in these woods,” she complained. “You know the awful stories about them, Lizzy. No birds ever sing here. People who go in don’t come out.”
    â€œDo you want to go home?” I asked, hoping Caroline would say yes.
    â€œNo way!” she declared. “Let’s find out where the troop is.”
    She leaned forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder. “Excuse me, but do you know where the troop is? We’d like to talk to them.”
    The driver tossed a piece of yellowed paper into the backseat. “Check the map.”
    â€œMap?” I repeated, picking it up.
    â€œThe girls are at the campsite,” she said as we climbed out and unloaded our gear. “You have to find it.”
    Caroline glanced over my shoulder at the map. The ink had faded and the paper was torn in several places. “We can barely read this—”
    Caroline didn’t finish her sentence. The driver gunned the van’s engine. In a flash she was gone.
    â€œWell!” Caroline huffed. “ That was totally rude.”
    I couldn’t take my eyes off the Fear Street Woods. The trees stood so close together, they seemed like a solid wall.
    Somehow, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was lurking inside those trees, watching us. Waiting for us to enter.
    â€œLet’s not go in.” I pulled Caroline backward. “I don’t want to go in.”
    â€œOh, come on, Lizzy,” she replied. “Don’t be such a chicken!”
    â€œOkay.” I sighed. “Let’s go.”
    I flicked on my flashlight’s tiny beam.
    Side by side, we stepped into the woods.

15

    C rack!
    â€œWhat was