Overnight

by R. L. Stine

  Della wasn’t sure she had heard correctly.

  Suki was staring into her eyes, as if searching for a reaction. Della forced her face to go blank. She wasn’t going to give away her feelings to Suki so easily.

  “You broke up with him, right?” Suki asked.

  But before Della could answer—and what would she answer?—Suki headed off into the woods, pushing tall brambles out of her way so that she could pass through, her white Reebok hightops crunching over the dead leaves.

  Della leaned against a smooth white tree trunk, watching Suki until she disappeared into the woods. What was she trying to prove, anyway? Was she trying to excuse her moving in on Gary so quickly? Was Suki challenging her? Was she trying to be friendly? Was she making fun of her?

  Della wandered in the general direction the other two girls had gone. Her mind was spinning, trying to figure out what Suki had intended with her surprising, casual remarks. She didn’t really pay attention to where she was going. She completely forgot about the large plastic gun in her hand, the gun she was supposed to hold at the ready in case she came upon any of the boys.

  The crunch of a footstep brought her back to reality. She spun around and ducked as a spray of red paint flew over her head. She dropped to her knees, raised her pistol, and fired without aiming.

  “Hey!” she heard Ricky shout.

  Peering through tall weeds, she saw him rubbing at a splotch of yellow paint on his sweatshirt. “Missed me!” she yelled, laughing. Keeping low, she darted to the left and ducked behind a broad tree trunk.

  “Lucky hit!” Ricky shouted, running toward her at full speed. He fired, sending a stream of red paint up into the air. It died before it reached the tree.

  Della fired back, once, twice, missing both times. Then she took off, running along a narrow path through the fir and pine trees.

  She turned back in time to see Ricky, the splotch of yellow paint bright on the front of his dark sweatshirt, fall over a low stump and go sprawling face forward into the dirt. His ZAP gun bounced out of his hand and over the ground.

  With a triumphant smile on her face, Della turned off the path and kept running. She pushed branches and brambles out of her way, moving at top speed. This was fun, she decided. Ricky would never find her now.

  Suddenly, the clouds thickened and covered the sun, making it nearly as dark as night in the dense woods. Screeching birds circled, then settled onto high tree limbs. The wind swirled dust and dry leaves around her sneakers.

  She shivered, realizing that she hadn’t kept track of the direction she was heading in.

  Where am I?

  She looked to the sun to gauge her position, but the dark clouds blotted it out almost completely. Some great advice I gave Maia about watching the sun, she told herself. Poor Maia was probably lost too.

  “Hey—Maia!” she called aloud. She didn’t care if the boys heard her or not.

  There was no reply.

  “Maia! Suki! Can you hear me?”

  No reply.

  The birds suddenly became silent. It was eerie, Della thought, as if someone had just turned them off, like turning off a TV set.

  The silence was strange, unnatural.

  “Now, don’t start getting morbid,” she scolded herself.

  The wind shifted direction. A branch cracked somewhere behind her. She jumped as it hit the ground with a loud thud. She spun around, thinking someone was there.

  “Maia? Suki?”

  Where were they?

  She turned and started walking back to camp. She wasn’t sure it was the right direction, but it felt right. She had a pretty good sense of direction. Of course, she’d never been alone in the middle of the woods before.

  There was one good thing about being on an island. The woods wouldn’t go on forever. If she kept walking in a straight line, she’d eventually come out of them. But was she walking in a straight line? She couldn’t tell.

  The terrain sloped up, then down again. She realized she hadn’t walked here before. Thick green moss grew up the side of a tilted old tree. Moss. Moss on a tree. It only grows on one side of the tree, she remembered. But which side? She stared at it. The north side? The east side? She couldn’t remember.

  “Maia? Suki? Anyone?”

  Where was everyone?

  A crunching sound. Behind her. A footstep?

  She turned. No one there.

  She turned back, walked past the mossy tree. The ground was hilly now, the inclines growing steeper as she walked.

  Another crunching sound. Then another.

  Someone was definitely following her. She didn’t turn around. It was probably one of the boys, planning a sneak attack. But there was no such thing as a sneak attack when every step you took made a sound.

  What should she do?

  Count to ten, spin around, and fire.

  She walked on, stepping through tall ferns bent low in the strong wind. Three… four… five…

  The footsteps behind her were louder. Whoever it was was coming closer.

  Eight… nine… ten!

  She wheeled around, dropped to her knees, and pulled the trigger.

  A stream of bright yellow paint flew through the air, splattering leaves and tree trunks, dripping down onto the dark ground.

  A squirrel turned and darted away, making loud crunching sounds over the leaves as it ran.

  A squirrel. It was only a squirrel.

  She laughed out loud and sent another spray of paint high into the air.

  She had been followed by a squirrel. And she had shot at it.

  Good move, ace.

  Guess I showed him not to mess with Della O’Connor.

  She fired another shot at a tree trunk, missing by nearly a foot.

  It was really dark now, but she didn’t feel bad. The squirrel had cheered her up. She wasn’t afraid anymore. It was silly to be afraid.

  What was there to be afraid of?

  She eased herself down a steep slope and began making her way across a flat area, the ground thick with fragrant pine needles and dried-up pinecones.

  Suddenly, just a few feet ahead of her, someone stepped quickly out from behind a tree.

  “Pete? Gary?”

  She stopped short.

  It wasn’t one of her friends. It was a man she had never seen before. And he was moving toward her very quickly.

  CHAPTER 4

  He stopped a few feet in front of her, his hands in the pockets of his brown leather bomber jacket. His hair was sandy colored, cut very short. He smiled at her. He had a nice smile, she thought. In fact, he was really handsome, movie-star handsome.

  She realized she was holding her breath. She let it out quickly. Her heart was pounding. “Hi,” she said weakly. “You scared me. I didn’t—”

  His smile didn’t fade. His dark eyes looked her up and down. “Sorry. You scared me too.” His voice was smooth, mellow. She guessed he was about twenty-one or twenty-two.

  “I didn’t expect—”

  “Me either,” he said, shrugging, with his hands still in the jacket pockets.

  He’s really cute, she thought. What a smile!

  “What are you doing here?” she blurted out. Then she quickly added, “I was looking for my friends. I seem to be lost. I mean—” Why was she telling him this?

  “Lost?” That seemed to amuse him. His smile grew wider, revealing straight, white teeth. He removed a hand from his jacket and swept it back over his short hair.

  “Are you lost too?” she asked.

  He laughed quietly to himself. “No, I don’t think so.”

  “Oh.” Then why was he here in the middle of Fear Island by himself?

  “You from Shadyside?” he asked.

  “Yeah. I’m on an overnight. We’re camping out.”

  “Are we?” He laughed.

  He’s the most handsome guy I’ve ever seen, Della thought. Look at those dimples when he laughs. He really could be a model or something.

  “Are you camping out too?
” she asked.

  “Sort of.”

  He was obviously playing a game with her, deliberately not telling her why he was there. “Like to answer questions?” she asked teasingly.

  “Sure. Ask me anything. Want to know my social security number?” His eyes grew wide as he challenged her.

  “No. I just—”

  “Want to know my height and weight? My shoe size? My mother’s maiden name?” He was talking rapidly, excitedly. She couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

  “Yes, I think that would be very interesting,” she said, making her own joke and watching to see his reaction.

  He laughed. It was a warm, reassuring laugh. She felt drawn to him because of his laugh, because of his dark eyes, because of his clean, good looks.

  “So why are you here in the middle of the woods on Fear Island?” she asked, leaning against a narrow tree trunk.

  “Well, I came back, you see,” he started.

  “Back from college?”

  “Yeah. Right. Back from college. I go to B.U. Up in Boston.” He kicked at a thick, upraised root that curled along the dirt.

  “But it’s awfully early for school to be out,” she said.

  “Well… yeah. It’s not out. I’m here on kind of a project. You know. About trees.” He patted the trunk of the tree he was standing next to. “Lots of trees to study on the island. I’m doing my paper on tree reproduction.”

  “Reproduction?”

  He grinned. “Yeah. You know what that is, don’t you?”

  They both laughed. “That sounds very… interesting,” she said, staring into his eyes. Why did she feel like flirting with him? She didn’t know a thing about him. She didn’t even know his name.

  “I’m Della. What’s your name?”

  “Della? That’s funny. That’s my name too!”

  “Oh, get real…”

  “No. I mean it.” He raised a hand as if swearing he was telling the truth. He came a few steps closer. He was standing right in front of her now.

  “I like your jacket,” Della said. She reached out and touched the sleeve. “Real vinyl?”

  He laughed. “You’re very funny.” His eyes peered into hers, as if he were looking for something there. “A sense of humor is important, don’t you think? I think so. Some people don’t have a sense of humor. How do you deal with them? You know? What can you do about it? Sometimes it’s the only way to reach someone. When you want to reach someone and they don’t know where you’re coming from. Follow my meaning?”

  “No,” she said, laughing.

  He didn’t laugh with her. He bit his lower lip. His face turned serious. He looked down at her. She realized for the first time how tall he was, about a foot taller than she.

  “I’m talking about communication,” he said, shouting the last word. “I’m talking about getting through to people when they don’t want you to reach them. Know what I mean?”

  “Yeah. I guess.” He was starting to frighten her. What was this ridiculous rap about communication? He wasn’t making any sense. Why was he getting so worked up?

  She took a step back. She decided to change the subject. “So you like trees, huh?”

  “Trees?” For a second he looked as if he didn’t know what she was talking about. “Oh, yeah. Sure. I like your hair.”

  “It’s all blown by the wind.”

  “I like that.” He looked up at the sky. “Pretty cloudy. Hope it doesn’t rain.” He was calm again.

  “Yeah.”

  He moved closer and fingered the sleeve of her sweatshirt. “Nice sweatshirt,” he said.

  “It’s real vinyl.” She could feel his breath on her neck. She stepped back, but he didn’t let go of her sleeve. “I guess I should get back.”

  “Back?”

  “Back to my friends. They’re probably wondering where I am.”

  “Where are you?” he asked. It didn’t exactly sound like a joke. There was something unpleasant about the way he said it, something threatening.

  “My friends. I have to get back to camp.”

  “Send this girl to camp,” he said, unsmiling, staring into her eyes.

  She noticed for the first time that he was sweating.

  How weird, she thought. It’s too cold to be sweating like that. His leather jacket can’t be that warm!

  “Nice to meet you, Della,” she said, trying to keep it light, but eager now to get away from him.

  He didn’t say anything. He stood staring at her, expressionless. He seemed to be thinking hard, concentrating on something. “Are those real gold?” he asked, reaching for one of her hoop earrings.

  “I don’t know,” she said, quickly backing away from him.

  Suddenly, he grabbed her hair and held it tightly, pulling her head back.

  “Hey!” she cried. “What are you doing?”

  “I guess they are,” he said. “Solid gold. You’re a real princess, aren’t you.”

  “No. Let go!” She tried not to let her panic sound in her voice, but she couldn’t help it.

  He tightened his grip on her hair.

  “Come on—let me go. I’m serious!”

  “Me too,” he said in a low voice filled with menace.

  Still pulling her hair with one hand, he grabbed her arm above the elbow with his other hand and pulled her against him. She could smell the leather of his jacket, the leather smell mixed with sweat.

  “Hey—stop!” she pleaded. “You’re hurting me!”

  “Sorry, Princess.” He tightened his grip.

  She tried to pull away from him, but he was too strong. He dragged her up a brushy slope. At the top, she looked down into a deep ravine.

  “What do you want?” she cried. “What are you going to do with me?”

  CHAPTER 5

  Still holding her tightly with one arm, he unzipped his jacket. It was one of the loudest sounds Della had ever heard, and the most frightening.

  “Pete! Gary!” she screamed.

  He laughed quietly to himself. “No one can hear you,” he whispered. He pushed her closer to the edge of the ravine.

  “No, wait,” she begged.

  “What does waiting get you?” he said. His voice was smooth, calm; terrifyingly calm. “I’ve been waiting here. Too long. I’ve been waiting for a lot of things. Finally, I decided just to take something. Something for me. Know what I mean?” He was talking rapidly again, crazily, his eyes wild, spraying her with spittle as he leaned in close to her face.

  “Just let go of me,” she said, forcing her voice not to tremble. “I won’t run away. I promise.”

  “I don’t ask a lot. But I want something,” he continued, ignoring her request. “That’s what I told the old man. But he wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t communicate, see. That’s what we’re talking about. Communication. I found a way to communicate with him okay. I found a way. But it didn’t do him any good. I mean, you don’t learn a lesson if you’re dead. Know where I’m coming from?”

  “Uh… yes. Please let go.”

  “You don’t know what I’m talking about, do you? Well, you’d better not. Just play dumb, okay? Okay? You like me. I can tell. I think I can communicate with you. Yes?”

  “Yes. No. You’re hurting me!”

  Breathing heavily, his chest heaving, he loosened his grip a little. Backing away, Della saw the silver chain around his neck, three silver skulls hanging from it. “Oh!” she gasped. They were so ugly, so realistic, so evil looking.

  He stared into her eyes. He seemed to be trying to read her thoughts.

  “What do you want?” she asked.

  He didn’t reply. He didn’t blink. His silence was scarier than his wild talk.

  She suddenly remembered the ZAP gun. She had shoved it into her back jeans pocket. She reached for it now, felt the barrel first, then grabbed the handle. She jerked her arm back, raised the gun, and fired.

  A spray of yellow paint shot onto his forehead.

  He sputtered, surprised, then cried out angrily a
nd let go of her to wipe his forehead.

  She took off, racing, stumbling, flying along the ground. Where was she going? She didn’t know. She didn’t care. She was getting away.

  She tripped over an upraised root, but climbed quickly to her feet. She was running blindly now, thick foliage rushing by in a blur.

  And he was right behind her.

  He lunged. His arms went around her legs. He tackled her.

  She hit the ground hard. Her knee throbbed with pain, which shot up through the rest of her body.

  His arms circled her waist.

  Before she even realized she had been recaptured, he had pulled her to her feet. Angrily, he gave her a hard shove. He grabbed the ZAP gun from her hand and shoved the barrel into her back.

  “Let me go! Let me go!” she wailed.

  He stared at her, struggling to catch his breath, perspiration dripping down his forehead, down his smooth cheeks.

  He pushed her ahead of him, back up to the top of the ravine. She struggled to break away, but he held on tightly, bending her arm behind her, poking the sharp nose of the ZAP gun into her back.

  At the top of the ravine he stopped. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her hard. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he growled.

  As he brought his face down closer, she pulled back both hands and gave him a fast, hard shove with all her might.

  His eyes opened wide in surprise as he lost his footing.

  “Hey!”

  He tumbled backward. His feet flew out from under him as he began to topple down the side of the steep ravine.

  His hands, desperately reaching for something to stop his fall, grabbed only air.

  She closed her eyes.

  She heard him scrape against the ground, once, twice. She heard him cry out. She heard a thud. A groan. And then silence.

  It took three or four seconds at most.

  It seemed like a year.

  She opened her eyes. Everything seemed so much darker. The trees, the ground, the sky. She took a deep breath and held it. Sometimes that calmed her down.

  This time it didn’t work.

  Her first instinct was to run. But she knew she couldn’t run away until she had looked down to the bottom of the ravine.

  The ground seemed to tilt. The trees seemed set at strange angles, warring with each other. She shook her head, trying to shake away the dizziness.