Shadow Girl

by R. L. Stine

  They were okay. I had saved their lives.

  A man poked his head out of the car from behind the wheel. “Who are you?” he cried. “How did you do that?”

  “I’m Shadow Girl!” I declared.

  I spun around. Raised my arms high. And took off into the air. Glancing back, I could see the driver’s startled face as I sped through the sky.

  I came to a gentle landing in Jada’s backyard. My shoulder ached from smashing against the bumper. I started to feel sick again.

  I dropped to my knees. I pulled up the mask. I couldn’t breathe. My stomach churned.

  I felt a hand on my shoulder and gazed up at Jada. “You just saved two lives!” she exclaimed. “How did that feel?”

  “Terrible,” I groaned. “I…I hate it, Jada. It makes me sick.”

  “Too bad,” she replied sharply.

  I climbed dizzily to my feet.

  “Too bad,” she repeated. She gave me a hard shove that sent me staggering back.

  “Hey—!” I cried out angrily. “What’s the big idea?”

  “Too bad if you don’t want to be Shadow Girl,” Jada shouted. “It’s what I wanted my whole life—and you want to throw it away.”

  She shoved me again. I bumped hard into a mailbox post.

  “I won’t let you!” Jada cried. “I won’t let you quit. I’m your enemy. I’m your archenemy! Why do you think I’ve been preparing you to be Shadow Girl? So I can defeat you! So I can destroy you! Face your fate, Selena! Face it!”

  “No—!” I screamed. “No way!”

  I dodged to the side as she reached to shove me again.

  Our capes tangled together. I tugged mine free and pushed her away.

  Behind the mask, her blue eyes went wide. She opened her mouth in a scream—and threw herself on top of me.

  She tackled me to the pavement. I rolled out from under her and swung my body on top of hers. I dove forward, trying to pin her arms to the ground.

  Groaning, squirming, kicking, she tried to battle free.

  With a shriek, I grabbed her blond hair and tugged hard.

  She rolled to a side—and I went tumbling into the street.

  And then we were standing up, wrestling, tearing at each other, crying, and groaning in pain.

  I let out a horrified shriek when I looked down—and saw the houses and trees far beneath us.

  She had pulled me high in the air. And now we fought high above the ground. Kicking at each other. Wrestling. Crying out our anger.

  We’re both going to fall, I realized. We’re both going to die!

  “I don’t want this! I don’t want this!” I shrieked.

  “It’s your fate!” Jada screamed back.

  “Noooo!” I wailed.

  And then I realized what I had to do.

  Wrestling with my cousin high in the night sky, the winds swirling, battering us as we struggled—I knew what I had to do to end this. To free myself.

  “Okay—I’ll face my fate!” I screamed. “And now it’s time for you to face yours!”

  Jada’s eyes bulged in surprise.

  “I’m going to do as the book said!” I told her. “I’m going to kill you now!”

  I reached out—and ripped the red pendant off Jada’s throat.

  Jada desperately tried to grab it back. “No! Give it back! I need it! I can’t live without it!”

  With a cry, I heaved the pendant to the ground.

  I heard it shatter on the pavement beneath us. And I knew that I had killed her.

  My scream rang through the night sky. “Die, Red Raven! Die!”

  Conclusion

  Friday night. A calm, cool night. The trees are still. A bright half-moon sends silvery light over the houses and lawns of Elmwood.

  Shadow Girl slid down the tree at the side of the house. Keeping in the blue-black shade of the house, she made her way silently to the front.

  She stopped near the curb to adjust her mask. Then she pushed her cape back over her shoulders.

  A car rumbled past, its radio blaring country music. She dove behind an evergreen shrub to keep from the glare of the headlights.

  Then Shadow Girl crossed the street, her boots clicking on the pavement. A crash from inside the Carver house across the street startled her. She stopped for a second. Then took off, running to the side of the house.

  Sure enough, a window had been slid open.

  No lights had been turned on. She saw the darting yellow beam of a flashlight cutting through the dark.

  Footsteps from the front room. The light swept one way, then another.

  Silently, Shadow Girl climbed onto the windowsill. Then she lowered herself into the house.

  She landed softly and made her way across the dining room.

  A cabinet drawer banged in the front room. More footsteps.

  She crept into the living room. Her gloved hand found the light switch on the wall.

  She clicked on the ceiling light—and saw the masked figure. He wore a blue cape and had a blue ski mask pulled down over his face. He was bent over the TV set, unplugging it.

  He froze when he saw her. Then he raised the flashlight and sent the bright beam into her face.

  “Who are you? What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “I’m Shadow Girl,” she announced. “This is your last robbery, Blue Weasel.”

  He stood up slowly, his eyes unblinking, locked on her. “My last robbery? What makes you so sure?”

  She didn’t reply. Instead, she leaped forward. She batted the flashlight from his hand and then lowered her shoulder to tackle him to the floor.

  He dodged quickly. Then he grabbed her cape with both hands.

  Shadow Girl caught her balance and spun around to face him.

  But the masked burglar twisted the cape around her. Wrapped it around her throat.

  She lashed out with both hands. But her punches went wild.

  He began to tighten the cape. Tightening it around her throat. Choking off her air.

  She raised a knee. Tried to kick him. Thrashed her hands at him.

  But she could feel herself growing weak as he tightened the cape even more. Tightened it, choking off her air…

  Choking her…

  One last chance. She let her knees buckle. Dropped to the floor. And started to spin.

  Faster. Faster.

  The burglar stumbled back in surprise as the cape jerked out of his hands.

  Shadow Girl rose up, spinning, spinning so hard, she created a whirlwind. The wind whipped around them both, sending the cape sailing around the burglar.

  He tried to toss it away. But the swirling wind wrapped the cape around him. Held him in place, tightening like the wraps around a mummy.

  The cape held him helpless. Until the whirlwind faded. And Shadow Girl stepped forward to pluck the cape away.

  She reached out and pulled off the blue mask.

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry it’s you, Stan.”

  His face darkened to beet red. His eyes rolled crazily in his head. “How—how did you know?” he cried hoarsely.

  “Shadow Girl knows everything,” she replied, and dragged him out of the house.

  I stood in the bushes at the bottom of the yard and watched Jada lead Stan away. At first, I couldn’t believe my eyes.

  Stan? Stan was the Blue Weasel?

  Did Jada know this all along?

  The mask hid Jada’s eyes. But I could see the smile on her face. I knew she was enjoying being a superhero.

  I was smiling too. I knew I had done the right thing.

  Later, I waited in the secret room for Jada to return. It was nearly midnight when I heard her climb the tree. She dropped gracefully in through the window.

  “You waited up for me?” she asked, straightening her black cloak.

  I nodded. “I had to talk to you. Did you know that Stan was the burglar all along?”

  “Yes,” she replied with a sigh. “Poor guy. It was too easy. You know
. The new DVD player. The new computer. Stan’s family is so poor. How could they afford all that?”

  We both dropped to the floor to talk, resting our backs against the wall.

  “So I told Stan about the Carvers being away all week,” Jada continued. “I made up a story about throwing a party there Saturday night. I knew he’d go there to rob it before the party because he knew the house was empty. It was such an easy trap.”

  I laughed. “Easy for you maybe—but not for me. I’m glad I killed you. You make a much better Shadow Girl than I ever would.”

  My cousin sighed. “Yes, Red Raven is dead. Gone forever. When you gave your pendant and costume to me, I became Shadow Girl for all time—for the rest of my life.”

  “I’m sorry it took me so long to figure out what to do,” I said. “I was so confused.”

  “You had to discover it for yourself,” she replied. “You had to hand over the costume of your own free will. And when you did, I truly became Shadow Girl.”

  “I’m so happy we both got what we want!” I exclaimed.

  And we threw our arms around each other and hugged—hugged for real—for the first time in our lives.

  I returned home a few days later, and Mom was very surprised to see me. So surprised, she dropped an entire tray of glasses!

  Of course, there was a lot of hugging and crying.

  Through my tears, I did my best to explain.

  Mom agreed that I had done the right thing. But she had an odd expression on her face. I had the weirdest feeling that she was disappointed somehow.

  But that had to be my imagination.

  “I’m so glad to return to a normal life!” I cried. And more hugs and tears followed.

  After we talked for a while longer, I made my way to the stairs. “I have to call Beth,” I said. “I have to tell her the good news that I’m back. That we can be friends again.”

  I ran up the stairs. I was passing Mom’s room on the way to mine, when I spotted something on the bed.

  Something weird.

  I stepped into Mom’s room and hurried over to the bed.

  To my surprise, Mom burst into the room behind me. Her face was twisted in horror.

  “You weren’t supposed to see that!” she cried. “I didn’t know you were coming home. I would have put it in its place.”

  My heart pounding, I picked it up. A red cape. A pair of silky red tights. A sparkly black mask with diamond-shaped eye holes.

  “Mom? What is it?” I cried.

  “My costume,” she said in a whisper.

  Take a look at what’s ahead in

  THE NIGHTMARE ROOM #9

  Camp Nowhere

  I didn’t scream.

  I was proud of that. I think maybe that’s one reason no one teased me about the wasps later.

  The sting only swelled a little bit. It itched a lot. But the cream that Ramos spread over it kept it from really hurting.

  “You were lucky,” Ramos said later, as we paddled along the river, the current pulling us easily. “All those wasps and only one sting. The others must have decided that you wrecked their nest by accident.”

  I forced a weak laugh. “I guess.”

  “You were brave, the way you just froze there and let them climb all over you,” Charlotte said. She shuddered. “Just thinking about it gives me the creeps.”

  The river picked up speed. We took turns paddling. The sun tried to come out a few times. But it couldn’t break through the high clouds.

  My neck was throbbing and I felt a little dizzy by the time Ramos announced it was time to stop for the day. We pulled the canoes to a wide, grassy area on the shore.

  Then we carried the tents and other supplies across the grass to a flat, dry circle surrounded by tall trees. I saw a rabbit watching us from the edge of the woods. Two cawing bluejays swooped through the low branches of the trees.

  The air carried a chill. The sky darkened to charcoal gray.

  “We need lots of firewood,” Ramos instructed. “After we cook our food, we’ll want to keep the fire going for warmth. Get going, guys.”

  He set to work on the tents. The five of us made our way into the woods.

  I was walking with David and Marty. But when I bent down to pick up some long twigs, they wandered away. I saw the two girls on the other side of a clump of tall reeds. They were struggling to pick up a fat log from the ground.

  “Russell—find any wasps’ nests?” Marty called.

  “Not yet!” I shouted back.

  “We’re staying as far away from you as we can,” David said.

  Erin said something, but I couldn’t hear her. I was staring at something caught in the brambles of a low bush.

  At first I thought it was a small, white bird. But bending down, I saw that it was an arrow. A stone arrow with a long, white feather attached. “Weird,” I muttered.

  I picked it up to study it. Was it an Indian arrow?

  “Hey—check this out!” Charlotte called. Carrying the arrow, I hurried over to her. She held up a small, brown object. “I found it resting against that tree.”

  “A doll?” I asked.

  She nodded. “It’s made of some kind of leather. And it’s wearing a long dress, all fringed.”

  “It’s an Indian papoose,” Erin said, taking it from Charlotte.

  I showed them the feathered arrow. “Remember? Indians lived in these woods for hundreds of years,” I said.

  “But these things are brand new,” Erin replied.

  “How could that be?” Charlotte asked, studying the arrow, running her finger over the fresh, white feather. “Ramos told us the Indians were driven out a hundred years ago. So how did these things get here?”

  “It’s a mystery,” Erin said. She handed the little, leather doll back to Charlotte. “A real mystery.”

  I heard Indian drums again that night.

  We all gobbled up dinner—hot dogs on the fire and sandwiches left over from lunch. We were starving.

  We showed Ramos the doll and the feathered arrow. But he couldn’t explain them. He was as puzzled as we were.

  After dinner, Ramos asked if we wanted to sit around and tell jokes. But we were all yawning. Aching and exhausted from the long day of canoe paddling.

  The tents formed a tight circle around the fire. The shadows of the flames danced on the vinyl tent walls.

  We divided up and climbed wearily into the tents. Marty and I shared a tent. I left the tent flap open so that we could watch the fire and feel its heat.

  We pulled off our muddy boots. Then we climbed into our sleeping bags in our clothes.

  “How is your wasp sting?” Marty asked, yawning.

  “Not too bad,” I whispered. “It itches a little, but it’s okay.”

  I turned and saw that he was sound asleep.

  I settled into the sleeping bag and stared out at the red-orange flames licking up at the darkness.

  A minute or so later, the drumbeats began.

  Low and distant. A slow, steady thrum…thrum…thrum.

  Indian drums, I thought.

  I pictured the leather doll, the feathered arrow.

  I picked up my head and gazed out through the tent flap. The fire had died down. The flames were small now, sparks above the purple embers.

  Thrum…thrum…thrum…

  Soft drumbeats from the woods. From all around.

  All around the circle of the clearing, I thought.

  Thrum…thrum…

  Soft but close…so close.

  I fell asleep to the slow, steady rhythm of the drumbeats. I slept a deep, dreamless sleep.

  I jerked awake the next morning—sat straight up—stared out at the gray morning light.

  What woke me up?

  A scream?

  Yes. A hideous, deafening scream of pain.

  Ramos!

  I reached over and frantically shook Marty awake.

  “Wake up!” I cried. “It’s Ramos! Do you hear that scream? It’s Ramos!”


  Ramos’s screams echoed off the trees.

  I pulled on my boots and scrambled out of the tent.

  Charlotte and Erin were awake, standing tensely in front of the dead campfire. Charlotte’s red hair stood out in all directions. Erin was struggling to tug down the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

  They turned to me, their eyes wide with fright. Marty hopped out of the tent, pulling on his left boot.

  David came climbing out of the tent he shared with Ramos. “What’s happening?” he asked, his voice still hoarse from sleep. “Is that Ramos screaming?”

  Before anyone could answer, Ramos roared across the clearing, holding his right arm tightly against his side. His face was red. His dark eyes were half shut from pain.

  “Oh, man. Oh, man,” he moaned.

  “Ramos—what happened?” Charlotte cried. We all ran across the grass toward him.

  “My arm,” he moaned. “I—I think I tore something.”

  He dropped into a sitting position in front of the dead fire. “Oh, man—it hurts.” He gripped the arm tightly, holding it stiffly against him.

  We huddled around him. “What happened? What did you do to it?” I asked.

  He groaned in pain. “I went out early to chop more firewood for this morning,” he said. He looked around. “Where’s the ax? Oh, man. I left it in the woods.”

  “I’ll go get it,” I said.

  He motioned for me to stay where I was. “I was chopping a log in two—and I heard something snap. In my arm. The pain is unbelievable!”

  He motioned to David. “Bring me some water. It’s in the pack over there. I…I’m so dry.”

  “Do you think you broke your arm?” Marty asked him.

  David handed the water bottle to Ramos. Ramos tilted it to his mouth and took a long drink. “No. I didn’t break the bone,” he said, wincing in pain. “I think I tore the tendon.”

  He drank down the rest of the water and crushed the plastic bottle in his good hand. “I can’t believe this,” he muttered. “I won’t be able to paddle at all.”

  My heart jumped. “Do you mean we have to go back to camp?” I asked.

  Ramos shook his head. He glanced at the river. “No. We’re too close. The falls are less than half an hour away. You…you’ll just have to go over them without me.”