[Goosebumps 56] - The Curse of Camp Cold Lake Read online

  THE CURSE OF

  CAMP COLD LAKE

  Goosebumps - 56

  R.L. Stine

  (An Undead Scan v1.5)

  1

  I got off to a bad start at Camp Cold Lake.

  I was nervous when I arrived. And I guess I did some dumb things.

  Well, I didn’t want to go to a water sports camp.

  I don’t like to be outdoors. I hate the feeling of grass brushing against my ankles. I don’t even like to touch trees. And I certainly don’t like getting wet.

  Sure, I like to go swimming once in a while. But not every day! What’s the point of that?

  I like to swim in a nice, clean pool. I took one look at the lake here—and I was sick. I knew there had to be horrible things swimming around in that water.

  Ugly creatures, waiting below the surface. Thinking to themselves: “Sarah Maas, we’re waiting for you. Sarah, we’re going to rub our slimy bodies on your legs when you swim. And we’re going to chew off your toes, one by one.”

  Yuck. Why do I have to swim in slime?

  Of course, Aaron was so excited, he nearly exploded.

  When we climbed off the camp bus, he was jumping up and down and talking a mile a minute. He was so crazed. I thought he was going to burst out of his clothes and go running into the lake!

  My brother likes camp. He likes sports and the outdoors. He likes just about everything and everyone.

  And everyone always likes Aaron. He’s so enthusiastic. He’s so much fun.

  Hey—I like to have fun too. But how can you have fun when there are no malls, no movie theaters, no restaurants to get a slice of pizza or a bag of french fries?

  How can you have fun up to your neck in a freezing cold lake every day? In a camp miles from any town? Surrounded on all sides by thick woods?

  “This is going to be awesome!” Aaron declared. Dragging his duffel bag, he hurried off to find his cabin.

  “Yeah. Awesome,” I muttered glumly. The bright sun was already making me sweat.

  Do I like to sweat? Of course not.

  So why did I come to Camp Cold Lake? I can answer that in three words: Mom and Dad.

  They said that a water sports camp would give me confidence. They said it would help make me more comfortable with the outdoors.

  And they said it would give me a chance to make new friends.

  Okay, I admit it. I don’t make friends easily. I’m not like Aaron. I can’t just walk up to someone and start talking and kidding around.

  I’m a little shy. Maybe it’s because I’m so much taller than everyone else. I’m a whole head taller than Aaron. And he’s only a year younger than I am. He’s eleven.

  I’m tall and very skinny. Sometimes Dad calls me “Grasshopper”.

  Guess how much I like that.

  About as much as I like swimming in a cold lake filled with hidden creatures.

  “Be a good sport about it, Sarah,” Mom said.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “Give camp a chance,” Dad added. “You might surprise yourself and have a good time.”

  I rolled my eyes again.

  “When you come home at the end of summer, you’ll probably beg us to take you camping!” Dad joked.

  I wanted to roll my eyes again—but they were getting tired from all that rolling.

  I gave my parents a glum sigh. Quick hugs. Then I followed Aaron onto the camp bus.

  He grinned the whole way to camp. He was really excited about learning how to water-ski. And he kept asking everyone if the camp had a high diving board over the lake.

  Aaron made three or four good friends on the bus ride to camp.

  I stared out the window, watching the endless blur of trees and farms. Thinking about my lucky friends who got to stay home and hang out at the mall.

  Then here we were at Camp Cold Lake. Kids pulling their bags off the bus. Laughing and joking. Counselors in dark green T-shirts greeting everyone, pointing them in the right direction.

  I began to cheer up a little bit.

  Maybe I will make some new friends, I thought. Maybe I’ll meet some kids who are a lot like me—and we’ll have a great summer.

  But then I stepped into my cabin. I saw my three bunk mates. I looked around.

  And I let out a cry. “Oh, no! No way!”

  2

  I guess I shouldn’t have freaked like that.

  It made a very bad first impression.

  But what was I supposed to do?

  There were two bunk beds in the cabin. The three other girls had already chosen their beds. There was only one bed left—right in front of the window.

  And the window had no screens.

  Which meant that my bed would be crawling with bugs. I took one glance—and I knew I’d be swatting mosquitoes every night for the whole summer.

  Besides, I can’t sleep in a top bunk. I toss and turn a lot at night. If I slept on top, I’d fall on my head.

  I had to sleep on the bottom. In the bed against the far wall, away from the open window.

  “I—I can’t do this!” I blurted out.

  My three bunk mates turned to look at me. One had blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. Near her was a short, chubby girl with long brown hair. In the bottom bunk against the wall, an African-American girl with long cornrows stared across the cabin at me.

  I guess they wanted to say hi and introduce themselves. But I didn’t give them a chance.

  “Someone has to trade beds with me!” I cried. I didn’t mean to sound so shrill. But I was really upset.

  Before they could answer, the cabin door swung open. A sandy-haired young guy in a dark green camp T-shirt poked his head in.

  “I’m Richard,” he said. “I’m the boss guy, the head dude. Everything okay in here?”

  “No!” I cried.

  I couldn’t stop myself. I was just so nervous and unhappy. “I can’t sleep in this bunk!” I told him. “I don’t want to be near the window. And I need to sleep on the bottom.”

  I could see that the other girls were shocked by my outburst.

  Richard turned to the girl who was sitting on the bottom bunk against the wall. “Briana, would you trade beds with—”

  “Sarah,” I told him.

  “Would you trade bunks with Sarah?” Richard asked Briana.

  She shook her head so hard, the beads in her cornrows rattled against each other. “I really don’t want to,” she said softly.

  She pointed to the chubby girl with long brown hair, who sat on a camp trunk. “Meg and I were bunk mates last year,” Briana told Richard. “And we kind of wanted to be together.”

  Meg nodded. She had a round, baby face. Squirrel cheeks out to here. And she wore blue and red braces on her teeth.

  “I can’t sleep in front of the window,” I insisted. “I really can’t. I hate bugs.”

  Richard stared hard at Briana. “How about it?”

  Briana groaned. “Oh… all right.” She made a face at me.

  “Thanks,” Richard said. I could see he was studying me.

  He probably thinks I’m a real troublemaker, I thought.

  Briana climbed off the bottom bunk. She dragged her duffel bag across the room to the bunk by the window. “It’s all yours,” she muttered.

  She didn’t say it in a friendly way.

  I felt bad. My bunk mates hate me already, I thought.

  Why do I always do that? Why do I always get nervous and start off on the wrong foot with people?

  Now I’ve got to try really hard to make them my friends, I decided.

  But a minute later, I did something horrible.

  3 />
  “Hey—thanks for trading bunks, Briana,” I said. “That was really nice of you.”

  She nodded but didn’t say anything. Meg pulled open her trunk and started shoving shorts and T-shirts into her dresser drawer.

  The third girl smiled at me. “Hi. I’m Janice,” she said. She had a raspy, hoarse voice. “Everyone calls me Jan.”

  Jan had a nice smile. She had her blond hair pulled back in a ponytail. She had dark blue eyes and red cheeks. She seemed to be blushing all the time.

  “Were you here last summer?” I asked her.

  She shook her head. “No. Briana and Meg were here. But this is my first summer. I went to tennis camp last year.”

  “I’ve never been to any kind of camp,” I confessed. “I—I guess I’m a little nervous.”

  “Are you a good swimmer?” Briana asked.

  I shrugged. “Pretty good, I guess. I don’t swim much. I don’t really like it.”

  Meg turned from her trunk. “You don’t like to swim, and you came to a water sports camp?”

  Briana and Jan laughed.

  I could feel my face grow hot. I didn’t want to tell them that my parents made me come to this camp. That just sounded too geeky. I didn’t know what to say.

  “I… uh… I like other things,” I stammered.

  “Oh—I love that swimsuit!” Briana declared. She pulled a bright yellow swimsuit from Meg’s trunk and held it up in front of her. “This is excellent!”

  Meg tugged it back. “Like it would really fit you!” she muttered, rolling her eyes. Her braces clicked when she talked.

  Meg looked a little like a bowling ball next to tall, graceful Briana.

  “Did you lose weight over the winter?” Briana asked her. “You look great. Really, Meg.”

  “I lost a little,” Meg replied. She sighed. “But I didn’t get any taller.”

  “I grew about a foot this year,” I chimed in. “I’m the tallest girl in my school. Everyone stares at me when I walk through the halls.”

  “Boo hoo,” Meg said sarcastically. “You’ve really got it tough. Would you rather be a shrimp like me?”

  “Well… not really,” I replied.

  Ooops. I realized I’d said the wrong thing.

  I saw a flash of hurt in Meg’s eyes.

  Why did I say that? I asked myself.

  Why do I keep putting my foot in my mouth?

  I picked up my backpack from where I had tossed it on the floor. I carried it to my bunk to unpack it.

  “Hey—that’s mine! Put it down!” Jan came rushing over to me.

  I glanced down at the backpack. “No. It’s mine,” I insisted.

  I started to unzip it—and it fell off the bed.

  A whole bunch of things fell out and clattered across the cabin floor.

  “Oh!” I cried out in surprise. The stuff wasn’t mine.

  I saw pill bottles. Medicine jars. And little plastic inhalers.

  “Asthma medicine?” I cried.

  Jan dropped to her knees and began gathering it all up. She glared up at me angrily. “Thanks a bunch, Sarah,” she growled. “Thanks for letting the whole world know I have asthma. Why don’t you stand up at the campfire tonight and announce it to the whole camp?”

  “Sorry,” I murmured weakly.

  “I told you it was my backpack,” Jan snapped.

  Meg bent down and picked up an inhaler for Jan.

  “Having asthma is nothing to be ashamed of,” she told Jan.

  “Maybe I like to keep some things to myself,” Jan snapped. She shoved all the medicine into the pocket and grabbed the backpack away.

  “Sorry,” I said again. “Really.”

  All three girls glared at me. Briana shook her head. Meg tsk-tsked.

  They hate me already, I thought.

  I felt sick. Really sick.

  They hate me, and it’s only the first day. The first hour.

  With a sigh, I slumped down on my bunk.

  Can things get any worse? I wondered.

  Guess the answer to that.

  4

  Later that night, we had our first campfire. It was built in a wide, flat clearing near the woods. Smooth logs were placed in a circle to be used as benches.

  I dropped down on an empty log with my back to the trees. Flames from the big fire danced brightly against the gray evening sky.

  The fire crackled and popped. It smelled so sweet. I took a deep breath.

  Counselors tossed more sticks on the fire. Soon the flames rose up over their heads.

  The night air was hot and dry. My cheeks burned from the heat tossed off by the fire.

  I turned away and gazed into the woods. The dark trees shivered in a light breeze. In the gray light, I saw a squirrel dart between tall weeds.

  I wondered what other animals lurked in the woods. I imagined there were bigger animals than squirrels in there. Bigger and more dangerous.

  A loud POP from the fire made me jump.

  It’s creepy outside at night, I thought. Why can’t they have the campfire indoors? In a fireplace or something.

  I slapped a mosquito on my neck.

  When I turned back to the fire, I saw Briana and Meg on another log bench. They were laughing about something. Talking to two girls I didn’t know.

  I saw Aaron on the other side of the flames. He was goofing with two other guys. They were wrestling around, trying to shove each other off the log.

  I sighed. Aaron has already made a bunch of friends, I thought.

  Everyone has made friends—but me.

  Aaron saw me staring at him. He waved quickly, then turned back to his friends.

  On the next log, three girls had their heads tossed back. They were loudly singing the camp song.

  I listened carefully, trying to learn the words. But they had a giggling fit halfway through and didn’t finish the song.

  Two older girls sat down on the other end of my log. They looked about fifteen or sixteen. I turned to say hi to them. But they were busy talking.

  One of them had a bag of Gummi Worms in her hand. She kept pulling them out of the bag one by one and slurping them slowly like spaghetti noodles.

  Richard, the head counselor, stepped in front of the fire. He had a black baseball cap turned backwards on his head. His baggy shorts were torn and dirty from working on the fire.

  He raised both hands over his head. “Are we all here?” he called out.

  I could barely hear him. Everyone was still talking and laughing. Across the fire, I saw Aaron standing up, wiggling his whole body in a funny dance.

  His friends were laughing their heads off. One of them slapped Aaron a high five.

  “Can we get started?” Richard called out. “Can we start our welcoming campfire?”

  A log cracked in the fire. Red embers shot up all around.

  “Oh!” I let out a cry as a hand grabbed my shoulder.

  “Who—?” I spun around, startled. And stared up at Briana and Meg.

  They leaned over me. In the darting firelight, I saw their frightened expressions.

  “Sarah—run!” Briana whispered.

  “Get up—quick!” Meg tugged my arm. “Run!”

  “Why? What’s wrong?” I sputtered.

  5

  I jumped shakily to my feet. “What’s wrong?”

  “Those boys,” Meg whispered. She pointed across the fire. “They threw fireworks in the fire! It’s going to explode!”

  “Run!” both girls cried.

  Meg gave me a shove to get me started.

  I stumbled—and then lurched forward. As I ran, I shut my eyes tight, expecting the blast any second.

  Could I get away in time? Were Meg and Briana escaping it too?

  I stopped short when I heard the laughter.

  Shrill, gleeful laughter.

  “Huh?” Swallowing hard, I turned back.

  And saw half the camp laughing at me.

  Meg and Briana slapped each other a high five.

  “
No. Oh, noooo,” I murmured. How could I fall for such a dumb trick?

  How could they play such a mean joke on me?

  They must have told everyone to watch. As I stood at the edge of the clearing by myself, I could feel all the eyes on me.

  And I could hear kids laughing and making jokes.

  I saw Jan laughing. And I saw Richard and some of the other counselors grinning and shaking their heads.

  I know, I know. I should have laughed too. I should have made a joke of it.

  I shouldn’t have let it upset me.

  But the whole day had been so terrible. I was so nervous. And so eager not to make any more mistakes.

  I could feel my shoulders start to shake up and down. I could feel tears welling up in my eyes.

  No! I ordered myself. You cannot cry! You cannot allow yourself to cry in front of the whole camp.

  Sure, you feel like a total jerk, Sarah. But so what? It was just a joke. Just a dumb joke.

  I felt a hand on my arm. I pulled away.

  “Sarah—” Aaron stood beside me. His dark eyes were wide in the shadowy evening light.

  “I’m okay,” I snapped. “Go away.”

  “You’re such a bad sport,” he said softly. “Why can’t you ever let things slide off you? It was just a joke. Why go nuts over a dumb joke?”

  Do you know what I really hate?

  I really hate it when Aaron is right.

  I mean, he’s my younger brother—right? What right does he have to be the sensible, calm member of the Maas family?

  It really steams me when Aaron comes on like the older brother.

  “Do I need your advice?” I snarled. “Take a hike.” I gave him a shove toward the campfire.

  He shrugged and hurried back to his friends.

  I crept to the campfire. I didn’t go to my old seat. It was too close to the fire—and too close to Briana and Meg.

  I dropped down on the edge of a log near the woods, outside the glow of the fire. The darkness cooled me and helped to calm me down.

  Richard had been talking for a while. I realized I hadn’t heard a word he said.

  He stood in front of the crackling fire. He had a deep, booming voice. But everyone leaned in to hear him better.