The First Horror by R. L. Stine Read Free Book Online Page A

James called the dog’s name as Cally led him from house to house. The houses are all pretty old and ramshackle on this street, Cally noticed. But none of them, she realized unhappily, were as run-down and as covered in darkness as her new house. “Is that Cubby?” James cried, pointing to a front lawn choked with tall weeds.
    Cally turned her gaze to follow where he was pointing. “No. Sorry. It’s only a squirrel,” she reported. James uttered an unhappy moan. “Don’t get discouraged,” Cally said. “We’ll find him. Let’s check out this backyard,” The square-shaped brick house was dark and empty. But as Cally followed her brother up the driveway, she heard the buzz of a power lawn mower. As she and James turned the corner behind the garage, a boy came into view. He had his back to them as he pushed the mower. It crackled and roared as he guided it through the tall grass. “I don’t see Cubby,” James shouted over the noise. Cally’s eyes were on the dark-haired boy. As he turned the lawn mower and started toward them, she recognized him. “Anthony!” Cally shouted, smiling. He stopped pushing but kept both hands on the mower handle. His eyes narrowed in surprise. “Hi!” he called. He bent down and shut off the mower. “Anthony—do you live here?” Cally called, jogging over to him. He gazed hard at her, wiping his hands on the legs of his jeans. “I remember you,” he said. “From the restaurant, right?” Cally realized he didn’t remember her name. “Cally,” she told him. “Cally Frasier. My sister and I—” “Oh. Right.” He smiled. “How’s it going?” He wiped his forehead with the sleeve of his T-shirt. Cally saw that he had blades of cut grass clinging to the bottoms of his jeans. And somehow, blades of grass had become tangled in his dark hair. “That’s my brother James,” Cally said, pointing. “Did you see a dog?” James demanded, hanging back by the garage. “A little black Lab?” Anthony shook his head. “No.” “We’re searching everywhere for him,” Cally explained. “Do you live here?” “No way,” Anthony replied seriously. His answer caught Cally by surprise. “Let’s go,” James urged. He ran over to Cally and tugged at her arm. “Let’s check out the next yard.” “In a second,” Cally replied, removing her arm from her brother’s grasp. She turned back to Anthony. “What do you mean?” Anthony’s dark eyes remained serious. “My family is too superstitious to live on Fear Street,” he said. “I don’t understand,” Cally confessed. “Oh. Yeah. You just moved here,” he said, gripping the handle of the now-silent lawn mower. “No one told you about this street, huh?” “Told me what?” Cally demanded. “Let’s go!” James cried impatiently. “One second!” Cally told him sharply. “Told me what, Anthony?” “Well … there are all kinds of stories about this street,” he replied reluctantly, staring down at the mower. “Weird stories.” Cally let out a shrill laugh. “Give me a break!” she replied playfully. “Just because I’m new in town doesn’t mean you can scare me with that dumb—” “I’m serious,” Anthony interrupted. “So you don’t live here?” Cally repeated, gesturing toward the house. Anthony shook his head. “I mow lawns on Saturdays. You know. For extra money. I live in Old Village. Have you been there? It’s pretty nice.” “I haven’t seen much of town,” Cally replied thoughtfully. He’s so cute, she found herself thinking. Even when he’s sweaty and covered with grass. “Let’s go!” James insisted, tugging on Cally’s arm again.
    “Okay, okay,” Cally replied. Anthony wiped his forehead again with his sleeve, “Hot today,” he muttered. “But I’m almost finished. Where do you live? On this block?” Cally nodded. “Yeah. Ninety-nine Fear Street.” His dark eyes locked on to hers. “You’re kidding—right?” “No, I’m not kidding,” Cally replied,