Goosebumps: The Curse of Camp Cold Lake (3 page)

“Fine,” he replied. He spun away and hurried back to his friends.

“I don’t believe him,” I muttered.

Dad is a doctor, and Aaron is just like him. He thinks he has to take care of
everyone in the world.

Well, I can take care of myself. I don’t need my little brother telling me to
calm down every second.

Richard was still talking. But I didn’t care. I stepped away from the
campfire circle and started back to the cabin.

The path curved through a patch of woods, up the sloping hill where the
cabins were perched. Away from the glow of the fire, I was surrounded by
darkness.

I clicked on my flashlight and aimed the yellow circle of light at my feet.
My sneakers crunched over dry leaves and twigs. The trees whispered above me.

How did I get off to such a bad start? I asked myself.

Why do Briana and Meg hate me so much?

Maybe they’re just mean, I decided. Maybe they’re total creeps. Maybe they’re
mean to everyone.

They think they’re so hot because they were at camp last year.

Without realizing it, I had wandered off the path. “Hey—” I swung the
flashlight around, searching for the way back.

The light swept over tilting trees, tall clumps of weeds, a fallen log.

Panic tightened my throat.

Where is the path? Where?

I took a few steps. My sneaker crunched over leaves.

And then my foot sank into something soft.

Quicksand!

No. Not quicksand.

There’s no such thing as quicksand. I remembered that from some science book
I read in fifth grade.

I lowered the flashlight.

“Ohhhh.” Mud. Thick, gooey mud.

My sneaker sank deep into the ooze.

I pulled my leg up with a groan—and nearly toppled over backwards.

It’s just mud, I told myself. It’s disgusting—but it’s no big deal.

But then I saw the spiders.

Dozens of them. The biggest spiders I ever saw.

There must have been a nest of them in the mud.

They were crawling over my shoe, crawling up the leg of my jeans.

“Ohhhh. Yuck!”

Dozens of spiders clung to me. I shook my sneaker. Hard. Then I began batting at them with my free hand.

“I hate this caaaaaamp!”
I screamed.

I beat some spiders away with the flashlight.

And then I had an idea.

I mean, why shouldn’t I pay Briana and Meg back for what they did to me?

They embarrassed me in front of the whole camp. And I hardly did anything to
them.

I emptied the batteries from the flashlight. I took a deep breath. Then I
bent down—and scooped a bunch of spiders into the flashlight.

Yuck. I felt sick. I really did.

I mean, can you imagine—
me
handling spiders!

But I knew it would be worth it. Soon.

I filled the flashlight with the squirming, black creatures. Then I screwed
on the top.

I stepped over a fallen tree trunk. Found the path. And carrying the
flashlight carefully, I eagerly hurried to the cabin.

I stopped outside the door. The lights were on inside the cabin.

I peeked in through the open window. No. No sign of anyone.

I crept inside.

I pulled up the blanket on Briana’s bed. Then I emptied half of the spiders
onto her sheet. I carefully pulled the blanket over them and smoothed it out.

I was pouring the rest of the spiders into Meg’s bed when I heard a shuffling
noise behind me. Quickly, I pulled Meg’s blanket back into place and spun
around.

Jan stepped into the cabin. “What’s up?” she asked in her hoarse, croaky
voice.

“Nothing,” I replied, hiding the flashlight behind my back.

Jan yawned. “It’s Lights Out in ten minutes,” she said.

I glanced at Briana’s bunk. I’d left one corner of the blanket untucked.
Briana won’t notice, I decided.

I realized I was grinning. I quickly changed my expression. I didn’t want Jan
asking a lot of questions.

She turned and pulled a long white nightshirt from her dresser drawer. “What
did you sign up for tomorrow?” she asked. “Free Swim?”

“No. Canoeing,” I told her.

I wanted to be in a nice, dry canoe. Not flopping around in the dirty lake
with fish and other slimy creatures.

“Hey. Me too,” Jan said.

I started to ask if she would be my buddy. But Briana and Meg came strolling
through the door.

They saw me—and burst out laughing.

“What was that wild dance you were doing at the campfire?” Briana teased.

“You looked as if you had a snake down your back or something!” Meg declared.

They laughed some more.

That’s okay I thought. Go ahead and laugh.

In a few minutes, when you climb under your covers,
I’ll
be laughing.

I couldn’t wait.

A few minutes later, Jan turned out the lights. I lay on the hard mattress,
staring up at Meg’s mattress above my head, grinning. Waiting…

Waiting…

Meg shifted her weight in the bunk above me.

I heard her gasp.

And then both Briana and Meg began to scream.

I laughed out loud. I couldn’t hold it in.

“It bit me! It
bit
me!” Briana howled.

The lights flashed on.

“Help!” Meg cried. She leaped out of bed. Her bare feet hit the floor hard.
It sounded like an elephant landing.

“It bit me!” Briana cried.

She and Meg were both on the floor now, dancing and wriggling. Slapping at
their arms, their legs, their backs.

I bit my lip to make myself stop laughing.

“Spiders! Spiders all over!” Meg shrieked. “Ow! It bit me too!” She pulled up the sleeve of her nightshirt. “Ow! That hurts!”

Jan stood at the light switch. I hadn’t moved from my bed. I was enjoying it
all too much. Watching them squirm and dance.

But Jan’s words wiped the smile from my face.

“Sarah put the spiders there,” she told Briana and Meg. “I saw her messing
around at your bunks when I came in.”

What a snitch. I guess she was still angry at me because I spilled her asthma
medicine.

Well, that put an end to the fun.

I think Briana and Meg wanted to strangle me. They both had to go to the
infirmary and wake up the camp nurse. They had to make sure the spider bites
weren’t poisonous.

How was I to know that these were the kind of spiders that bite?

It was just a joke, after all.

I tried to apologize when they came trudging back from the nurse. But they
wouldn’t speak to me. And neither would Jan.

Oh, well, I sighed. So they won’t be my friends. I’ll make other
friends….

The next morning in the mess hall, I ate breakfast alone. The room had two
long tables that stretched from wall to wall. One for boys and one for girls.

I sat at the far end of the girls’ table and spooned up my cornflakes in
silence.

All the other girls were chattering away. At the other end of the table,
Briana and Meg kept flashing me angry looks.

I saw Aaron at the boys’ table. He and his friends were laughing and goofing
on each other. Aaron balanced a pancake on his forehead. Another boy slapped it
off.

At least
he’s
having fun, I thought bitterly.

I had the sudden urge to go over and tell Aaron how unhappy I was. But I knew
he would just tell me to lighten up.

So I sat at my lonely end of the table and choked down my cornflakes.

Did things get better when I arrived at the lake for canoeing?

Three guesses.

Kids were already pulling their canoes off the grassy shore, into the water.
They all seemed to be paired up.

Liz walked over to me. Her white one-piece bathing suit glowed in the morning
sunlight. She had her frizzy red hair tied behind her head.

She let a silver whistle fall from her mouth. “What’s your name?” she asked,
eyes on the lake.

“Sarah,” I told her. “I signed up for canoeing, but—”

“You need a buddy,” she said. “Find a buddy. The canoes are over there.” She pointed, then trotted away.

Canoes splashed into the water. The slap of the wooden paddles echoed around
the shore.

I ran to the stack of canoes, searching for a buddy. But everyone had already
chosen partners.

I was about to give up when I spotted Jan, pulling a canoe to the water. “Do
you have a buddy?” I called.

She shook her head.

“Well, can I come with you?” I asked.

“I don’t think so,” she replied nastily. “Do you have any more spiders you
want to set loose?”

“Jan, please—” I started.

“Are you two together?” Liz appeared behind us, startling us both.

“No. I—” Jan started.

“I
want
to be her buddy, but she doesn’t want to,” I said. I didn’t
mean to whine, but it came out that way.

Jan made an ugly face at me.

“Get your canoe in the water,” Liz ordered. “You two are the last ones in.”

Jan started to protest. Then she shrugged and sighed. “Okay, Sarah. Let’s
go.”

We pulled on life preservers. Then I grabbed a paddle and one end of the
canoe. We dragged it to the water.

The little boat bobbed against the shore. The lake current was stronger than I thought. Low waves plopped steadily against
the grassy shore.

Jan climbed in and took a seat in the front. “Thanks for embarrassing me in
front of Liz,” she muttered.

“I didn’t mean—” I started.

“Okay. Push off,” she commanded.

I tossed my paddle into the canoe. Then I leaned over and gave the boat a
hard shove with both hands.

It slid smoothly away from the shore. Then I had to wade out to it and pull
myself inside.

“Whoa!” As I struggled to hoist myself up, the canoe nearly tipped over.

“Watch it!” Jan snapped. “You’re such a klutz, Sarah.”

“Sorry,” I murmured. I was so grateful to have a buddy, I didn’t want any
more trouble between us.

I pulled myself into the canoe and dropped down behind Jan.

The canoe bobbed up and down as we began to paddle. The rocking waters
sparkled like silver under the bright morning sunshine.

It took us a while to find the right rhythm.

Neither of us spoke.

The slap of our paddles and the rush of water against the little canoe were
the only sounds we made.

The lake gleamed in front of us like a giant, round mirror. I could see several canoes up ahead. Jan and I were far behind
them.

The rubber life preservers were hot and heavy. We pulled them off and dropped
them to the canoe floor.

We paddled steadily, not too fast, not too slow.

I glanced back. The shore seemed miles away.

I felt a chill of fear. I’m not that strong a swimmer. I suddenly wondered if
I could swim all the way to shore from out here.

“Hey!” As I stared back at the shore, the canoe suddenly started to rock.

“Whoooa!” I grabbed the sides.

I turned—and to my horror, saw Jan
standing up
!

“Jan—stop! What are you doing?” I shrieked.
“What are you doing?”

The little boat rocked harder. I gripped the sides, struggling to steady it.

Jan took a step.

The canoe tilted. Water splashed over my feet.

“Jan—stop!” I cried again. “Sit down! What are you
doing
?”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Bye, Sarah.”

The boat tilted more as she raised one foot to the side. She pulled off the
T-shirt she had over her swimsuit and tossed it to the canoe floor.

“No—please!” I begged. “Don’t leave me out here. I’m not a good swimmer.
What if the boat tips over? I don’t think I can swim back from here!”

“You ruined my summer,” she accused. “Now everyone knows I have asthma. So
they won’t let me go on the six-day canoe trip.”

“But—but it was an accident—” I sputtered.

“And you’re messing up everything for Briana and Meg too,” Jan said angrily.

“No. Wait—” I started. “I apologized to them. I didn’t mean—”

She shifted her weight.

Tilted the canoe the other way.

Then she shifted her weight again. Again.

Deliberately making the canoe rock.

Deliberately trying to frighten me.

“Don’t tip it over, Jan. Please—” I pleaded.

She tilted it more. Made it rock so hard, I thought I’d tumble out.

“I’m really not a good swimmer,” I repeated. “I really don’t think I—”

She uttered a disgusted groan. Then she tossed back her hair. Raised her arms
over her head. Bent her knees. Kicked off hard.

And dove into the lake.

“Noooo!” I let out a cry as the boat rocked violently. Jan’s dive sent up a
tall, foamy wave of water.

The canoe tilted… rocked…

…and flipped over!

I hit with a
smack.
Cold water rose up around me as I sank.

Frozen in shock.

I felt the canoe bounce above me on the surface.

Then I started to choke as water invaded my nose and mouth.

Sputtering and gagging, I thrashed my arms and legs.

Pushed myself… pushed… pushed myself to the surface.

And raised my head over the bobbing current.

Still sputtering, I sucked in a deep breath of fresh air. Then another.

Floating on the surface, I saw the canoe bobbing upside down on the water.

I struggled to catch my breath, to slow my racing heart.

Then I swam to the canoe. I grabbed on to it. Wrapped one arm around it. Held
on for dear life.

Bobbing with the canoe, I squinted into the sunlight, searching for Jan.

“Jan? Jan?” I called to her.

“Jan? Where
are
you?”

I turned and searched in all directions.

A feeling of cold dread tightened my chest.

“Jan? Jan? Can you hear me?” I shouted.