by R. L. Stine
Leaning forward against the seat back, I cupped my hands around my mouth and shouted, “Hey — can anybody hear us?”
I waited, listening. No reply.
“Can anybody hear us?” I tried again. “I think we’re stuck here!”
No reply. Just the steady drip drip drip.
I waited, squinting hard into the glow of green light.
Why wouldn’t the tram get moving? Had it broken down? Were we really stuck here?
I turned to Marty. “What’s up with this tram? Do you think we’re — HEY!”
I gasped as I stared at the empty seat beside me.
I reached both hands out. I grabbed for Marty.
Another lighting trick? Another optical illusion?
“Marty? Hey — Marty?” I croaked.
A cold shiver rolled down my back.
This time Marty was really gone.
“Marty?”
A scraping sound beside the tram made me jump.
I spun around and saw Marty grinning at me from the cave floor. “Gotcha.”
“You creep!” I shouted. I swung my fist, but he dodged away, laughing. “You’re The Living Creep!” I cried. “You deliberately tried to scare me.”
“It isn’t too hard a job!” he shot back. His smile faded. “I climbed down to check things out.”
“But the tram might start up any second!” I told him. “You know what that tour guide told us. She said we should never leave the tram.”
Marty squatted down and studied the tires. “I think the tram is stuck or something. Maybe it came off its tracks.” He raised his eyes to me and shook his head fretfully. “But there aren’t any tracks.”
“Marty — get back in,” I pleaded. “If it starts up and leaves you standing there —”
He grabbed the side of the car with both hands and shook it. The tramcar bounced on its tires. But it didn’t move.
“I think it broke down,” Marty said softly. “Your father said that some things might not work.”
I felt a stab of fear in my chest. “You mean we’re stranded here? All by ourselves in this creepy cave?”
He stepped to the front of the car and squeezed between the tram and the cave wall. Then he tried to push the tram back, shoving with both hands as hard as he could.
It wouldn’t budge.
“Oh, wow,” I muttered, shaking my head. “This is horrible. This isn’t any fun at all.”
I got back up on my knees on the seat and tried shouting again, as loud as I could: “Is anybody in here? Does anybody work here? The tram is stuck!”
Plunk plunk plunk. The dripping water was my only reply.
“Can somebody help us?” I shouted. “Please — can somebody help?”
No answer.
“Now what?” I cried.
Marty was still shoving with all his might against the front of the tram. He gave one last hard push, then gave up with a sigh. “You’d better climb down,” he said. “We have to walk.”
“Huh? Walk? In this creepy dark cave? No way, Marty!”
He came around to my side of the car. “You’re not afraid — are you, Erin?”
“Yes, I am,” I confessed. “A little.” I glanced around the huge cavern. “I don’t see any exits. We’d have to walk back through those tunnels. With all the spiders and worms and everything.”
“We can find a way out,” Marty insisted. “There’s got to be a door somewhere. They always build emergency exits in these theme park rides.”
“I think we should stay in the tram,” I said uncertainly. “If we stay here and wait, someone will come and find us.”
“It could take days,” Marty declared. “Come on, Erin. I’m going to walk. Are you coming with me?”
I shook my head, my arms crossed tightly in front of me. “No way,” I insisted. “I’m staying here.”
I knew he wouldn’t go off by himself. I knew he wouldn’t go unless I joined him.
“Well. Bye then,” he said. He turned and started walking quickly across the cave floor.
“Hey, Marty?”
“Bye. I’m not waiting here all day. See you later.”
He was really leaving. Leaving me alone in the stalled tram, in the scary cave. “But, Marty — wait!”
He turned back to me. “Are you coming or not, Erin?” he called back impatiently.
“Okay, okay,” I murmured. I saw that I had no choice. I climbed over the side of the tram and dropped to the cave floor.
The dirt was smooth and damp. I started walking slowly toward Marty.
“Hurry it up,” he called. “Let’s get out of here.” He was walking backward now, motioning for me to catch up to him.
But I stopped and my mouth dropped open in horror.
“Don’t look at me like that!” he shouted. “Don’t stare at me as if I’m doing something wrong!”
But I wasn’t staring at Marty.
I was staring at the thing creeping up behind Marty.
“Uh … uh … uh …” I struggled to warn Marty, but only frightened grunts escaped my throat.
He kept backing up, backing right into the enormous creature.
“Erin, get a move on. What’s your problem?” he demanded.
“Uh … uh … uh …” I finally managed to point.
“Huh?” Marty spun around — and saw it, too. “Whoa!” he screamed. His sneakers slid on the soft cave floor as he came running back to me. “What is that thing?”
At first, I thought it was some kind of machine. It looked like one of those tall steel cranes you see on construction sites. All silvery and metallic.
But as it rose up on its wire-thin back legs, I saw that it was alive!
It had round black eyes the size of billiard balls. They spun wildly in its skinny silver skull. Two slender antennae bobbed at the top of the head. Its mouth appeared soft, mushy. A gray tongue darted out between long, bristly whiskers.
Its long body stretched back like a folded-up leaf. As it stood, it waved its front legs, short white sticks.
The whole creature looked like some kind of gross stick figure. Its long back legs bent and sprang forward, bent then sprang forward. The thick tongue swung from side to side. The black eyes stopped whirling and focused on me.
“Is it — is it a grasshopper?” I choked out.
Marty and I had both backed up to the tram.
Waving its stick arms, the creature sprang closer, its antennae circling slowly on top of its head.
Marty and I pressed our backs against the cold cave wall. We couldn’t move back any farther.
“I think it’s a praying mantis,” Marty replied, staring up at it. The insect had to be at least three times as tall as us. As it moved forward, its head nearly scraped the cave ceiling.
The tongue licked its soft, mushy mouth. The mouth puckered and made loud sucking sounds. My stomach lurched. The sound was so sick!
The round black eyes stared down at Marty and me. The giant praying mantis, its body shining like aluminum, took another hopping step toward us. It started to lower its head.
“Wh-what’s it going to do?” I stammered, pressing my back hard against the cave wall.
To my surprise, Marty suddenly started to laugh.
I turned to him and grabbed his shoulder. Was he totally losing it?
“Marty — are you okay?”
“Of course!” he replied. He pulled away from me and took a step toward the towering insect. “Why should we be scared, Erin? It’s a big robot. It’s programmed to walk up to the tram.”
“Huh? But, Marty —”
“It’s all on a computer,” he continued, staring up as the big head bobbed lower on its stick body. “It isn’t real. It’s part of the ride.”
I stared up at the creature. Big drops of saliva rolled off its fat tongue and hit the cave floor with a splat.
“It’s … uh … really lifelike,” I murmured.
“Your dad is a genius at this stuff!” Marty declared. “We’ll have to tel
l him what a good job he did on the praying mantis.” He laughed. “Your dad said there were still some bugs, remember? This must be one of them!”
The insect rubbed its front legs together. It made a shrill whistling sound.
I covered my ears. The high-pitched note made my ears ache!
I was still holding my ears as a second giant praying mantis hopped out from behind a tall rock.
“Look — another one!” Marty cried, pointing. He tugged my arm. “Wow. They move so smoothly. You can’t even tell that they’re machines.”
The two silvery insects chittered at each other, a sharp, shrill, metallic sound. Their black eyes twirled. Their antennae rotated rapidly, excitedly.
Gobs of saliva rolled off their tongues and splattered to the floor. The second one flashed silvery wings on its back, then quickly closed them up again.
“Great-looking robots!” Marty declared. He turned to me. “We’d better get back in the tram. It’ll probably start up again now that we’ve seen these giant bugs.”
The two insects chittered to each other. They hopped closer, their sticklike legs springing hard, bouncing off the smooth cave floor.
“I hope you’re right,” I told Marty. “Those insects are too real. I want to get out of here!”
I started to follow him to the tramcar.
The first mantis leaped forward quickly. It hopped between us and the tram, blocking our path.
“Hey!” I cried.
We tried to step around it. But it took a big hop to stay in front of us.
“It — it won’t let us pass!” I stammered.
“Ohhh!” I cried out as the big creature suddenly swung down and slammed its head against my chest. The powerful head-butt sent me sprawling backward.
“Hey — stop that!” I heard Marty shout. “That machine must be broken!”
Its black eyes glowing, the mantis lowered its head again — and gave me another hard push toward the center of the cave.
Its partner moved quickly to trap Marty. It lowered its body and prepared to head-butt Marty. But Marty quickly backed away, raising his hands in front of him like a shield. He hurried to join me.
I heard scraping sounds. Shrill chirps and chittering.
I spun around to discover two more huge, ugly mantises climbing out from behind rocks. Then two more, their antennae twisting excitedly. Their fat gray tongues rolling around their open mouths.
Marty and I huddled together in the middle of the cavern as the creatures hopped and scraped around us. Then they rose up high on their hind legs, their black eyes gleaming, their short stick arms waving.
“We — we’re surrounded!” I cried.
The giant insects all began chittering at once. They scraped their front legs together excitedly. The shrill whistle rose through the cave, echoing off the stone walls.
They formed a circle around us, leaning back on their spindly hind legs. Moving closer. Tightening the circle. Their tongues whipped back and forth. Thick gobs of mantis saliva hit the floor.
“They’re out of control!” Marty shrieked.
“What are they going to do to us?” I cried, covering my ears against their excited chirps and the deafening whistle.
“Maybe they are voice-controlled,” Marty shouted. He tilted back his head and shouted up at them: “Stop! Stop!”
They didn’t stop.
One of them tilted its silvery head, opened its ugly mouth wide, and spit out a black gob. It splattered onto Marty’s sneaker.
He jumped back. His sneaker stuck to the floor. He struggled to tug it free. “Yuck! Watch out! That black stuff — it’s like glue!” he cried.
THOOOM.
Another mantis opened its mouth wide and spit out a big black gob of sticky goo. It splotched the shoulder of my T-shirt.
“Oww!” I wailed. It was so hot — it burned me right through my shirt.
The others chittered shrilly and scraped their hairy stick arms. Their tongues darting back and forth, they began to lower their heads to us.
“The stun guns!” I cried, grabbing Marty’s arm. “Maybe the guns will work against these bugs!”
“Those guns are only toys!” he wailed.
THUPPP.
Another black gob missed Marty’s foot by inches.
“Besides, the guns are in the tram,” Marty continued, staring up at the ugly creatures. “No way they’ll let us get to the tram.”
“Then what are we going to do?” I cried.
As I asked the question, an idea flashed into my mind.
“Marty,” I whispered. “How do you normally get rid of bugs?”
“Huh? Erin — what are you talking about?”
“You step on them — right? Don’t you usually step on them?”
“But, Erin,” he protested. “These bugs are big enough to step on us!”
“It’s worth a try!” I cried.
I raised my sneaker — and tromped as hard as I could on the foot of the nearest mantis.
The giant insect let out a shrill hiss and hopped backward.
Beside me, Marty stomped on another insect, bringing the heel of his sneaker down hard on its spindly foot. That creature fell back, too, raising its head in a shrill hiss of pain. Its eyes spun wildly. Its antennae shot straight up.
I stomped down hard again. With a hoarse choking sound, the big mantis fell onto its side. All four stick legs thrashed the air.
“Let’s go!” I shouted.
I turned and burst through the circle of insects. I didn’t know where to run. I only knew I had to get away.
The cave erupted in hisses and shrill whistles, angry chittering and croaks. I glimpsed Marty lurching after me.
I ignored the echoing, ringing sounds and ran.
Ran to the tram.
Leaned over the side and grabbed both plastic stun guns into my arms.
Then I pushed away from the tram and hurtled along the stone cave wall.
Where could I go?
How could I escape?
The chittering and hissing grew louder, more frantic. The tall shadows of the giant insects danced on the wall as I ran. I had the feeling that the shadows could reach out and grab me.
I glanced back.
Marty came running behind me at full speed.
The mantises were hopping, scrabbling, limping across the dirt floor after us.
Where to run? Where?
And then I saw the narrow opening in the cave wall. Just a crack, really.
But I dove for it. Slipped into it. Squeezed myself into the dark hole between the stone.
And burst out the other side. Into the misty daylight.
Outside!
I could see trees tilting down the hill. The road that led down to the studio buildings.
Yes! Outside! I made it!
I felt so happy. So safe.
But I didn’t have long to enjoy the feeling.
As I started to catch my breath, I heard Marty’s terrified cry: “Erin — help! Help! They got me! They’re eating me!”
With a gasp, I spun around.
How could I help Marty? How could I get him out of the cave?
To my surprise, he was leaning against the cave wall, one elbow against the rock, his legs crossed. A big grin on his round face.
“April Fools,” he said.
“YAAAIIIII!” I let out an angry scream. Then I dropped the two plastic pistols and rushed at him, ready to pound him with my fists. “You jerk! You scared me to death!”
He laughed and dodged to the side as I came at him. I swung my fist and hit air.
“Don’t play any more dumb jokes like that!” I cried breathlessly. “This place is too scary! Those big insects —”
“Yeah. They were scary,” he agreed, his smile fading. “They were so real! How do you think they made them spit like that?”
I shook my head. “I don’t know,” I muttered.
I had a heavy feeling in my stomach. I knew it was a crazy idea. But I was beginning to thin
k these creatures we were seeing were real.
Maybe I’ve seen too many scary movies. But the big praying mantises and the white worms and all the other creatures and monsters really seemed to be alive.
They didn’t move like mechanical creatures. They appeared to breathe. And their eyes focused on Marty and me as if they could really see us.
I wanted to tell Marty what I was thinking. But I knew he would only laugh at me.
He was so sure that they were all robots and that we were seeing some awesome movie special effects. Of course, that made sense. We were on a movie studio tour, after all.
I hoped Marty was right. I hoped it was all tricks. Movie magic.
My dad was a genius when it came to designing mechanical creatures and building theme park rides. And maybe that’s all we were seeing. Maybe Dad had really outdone himself this time.
But the heavy feeling in my stomach wouldn’t go away. I had the feeling that we were in danger. Real danger.
I had the feeling that something had gone wrong here. That something was out of control.
I suddenly wished we weren’t the first two kids to try out the tour. I knew it was supposed to be a thrill to be the only ones here. But it was too quiet. Too empty. Too scary. It would be so much more fun if hundreds of other people were along with us.
I wanted to tell Marty all this. But how could I?
He was so eager to prove that he was braver than me. So eager to prove that he wasn’t afraid of anything.
I couldn’t tell him what I was really thinking.
I picked up the two plastic stun guns and handed him one. I didn’t want to carry them both.
He tucked the barrel of his gun into his jeans pocket. “Hey, Erin — look where we are!” he cried. He jogged past me, his eyes straight ahead. “Check it out!”
He started running across the grass. I turned and started to follow him. I didn’t want him to get too far ahead.
The sky had darkened. The sun had disappeared behind a heavy blanket of clouds. Wisps of gray fog hung low in the cool air. It was nearly evening.
We crossed the road and stepped into a town. I mean, it was a movie set of a town. A small town with low, one- and two-story buildings, small shops, a country-looking general store. Big, old houses in the block beyond the stores.