by R. L. Stine
The trees next to Kelli let out sharp creaks. Their roots stretched way beyond their trunks. Roots that looked like legs, Kelli thought.
The wind gusted — and the trees moved. They’re walking! Kelli leaped back. No. It was just an illusion.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said.
Shawn wiped rainwater off his forehead. “Which way?” he asked, his voice tiny, muffled by the steady drumbeat of rain.
“Keep going, I guess,” Kelli said. “We’ll see what we come to.”
Ducking their heads, they started along the path. A clap of thunder, like an explosion, made them jump.
Shawn gasped. Lightning crackled, and the vines and trees turned an eerie yellow-green in its glow. Kelli was taking long strides now, her arms crossed in front of her. She splashed through a puddle, kicking up mud as she walked.
Shawn struggled to keep up with her. He brushed raindrops from his eyes. It was so hard to see in the darkness.
Another crackle of lightning. A tree limb cracked ahead of them. It dropped onto the path. Another boom of thunder seemed to shake the trees.
Then the rain began to pour down harder. Sheets of rain, driven by fierce gusts of wind.
“I … I can barely see.” Kelli tried to wipe the pounding water from her eyes.
Waves of rain pushed them back.
“I can’t walk,” Shawn cried, trying to press his way against the storm. “What are we going to do?”
Sheets of rain drove them back. The path disappeared under lakes of rainwater. Shawn said something, but Kelli couldn’t hear him over the steady roar of rain.
Their shoes sank in mud now. They leaned into the howling wind and rain and struggled to move forward. “Dad must be worried about us,” Kelli said.
“What? I can’t hear you,” came Shawn’s faint reply.
The path curved sharply between two rows of slender-trunked trees. Shielding her eyes with one hand, Kelli squinted into the distance. And saw a cabin.
A square wooden cabin, half-hidden under the trees. The front window was dark. Rain cascaded off the slanted roof.
“Shawn — look!” she gasped, pointing.
He saw it, too. Without another word, they turned off the path and pushed their way through the narrow gaps between tree trunks. Kelli was breathing hard by the time she reached the small muddy clearing in front of the cabin.
Squinting against the rain, Kelli stared at the dark shack. The wooden walls were peeling. The door tilted on its hinges. A rusted metal rake lay upside down in the mud beside the door.
“Hey! Anyone home?” Kelli shouted. She and Shawn pounded on the front door. Lightning crackled behind them, followed by a ground-shaking boom of thunder.
Water rolled off the low roof like a waterfall and splashed on both sides of the cabin. “Hello? Anyone here?” Kelli shouted again. She backed up a step, peered into the dark window. Saw no signs of anyone moving.
A gust of wind swirled the rain into their faces. Kelli ducked her head. She grabbed the rusted doorknob — and tugged the cabin door open.
“Huh?” She uttered a short cry, startled that it opened so easily. The cabin was dark inside. Light from the open door washed over the front room.
Kelli poked her head in. The sour aroma of stale food greeted her nose.
“Hello? Hello?” Her voice bounced off the cabin walls.
“Move over,” Shawn said. He bumped past her and stumbled inside. His whole body shuddered. “I’m totally soaked,” he said. “I’ll never get dry.”
Kelli followed him into the cabin. It appeared to have only one room. Lightning flickered, lighting the room for a second or two.
Kelli glimpsed a small wooden table, a stove with a frying pan on it, a narrow sink.
And then her eyes stopped on the wall to their right. Shawn’s gaze was already there.
They stared at the wall — and then they both began to scream.
“Skulls!” Shawn cried. “A whole wall of skulls!”
Lightning flashed outside, sending a spotlight over the wall and making the skulls appear to glow.
As her eyes adjusted, Kelli realized they were staring at rows of animal skulls, large and small. The skulls were lined up carefully in rows.
Shawn pointed with a trembling finger. “Those little ones … they’re snake skulls. Look how many …” His voice trailed off.
“Whoever lives here must be some kind of hunter,” Kelli said. She spun away from the wall of skulls, but she couldn’t get the picture from her mind. So many dead creatures.
Hugging herself to try to warm up, she moved across the cabin. She stopped in front of a small wooden table. Several knives were lined up on the table. Kelli saw a large butcher knife and some smaller knives.
“This guy killed a lot of snakes,” Shawn said behind her.
Thunder shook the cabin. Kelli saw a single shriveled strip of burned bacon in the frying pan on the stove. An unwashed dinner plate sat in the sink. A low shelf held a row of dusty glass jars.
Kelli squinted at the jar on the end. Those are olives, she told herself. They CAN’T be eyeballs. Can they?
“I … I don’t like this,” Shawn stammered. He was still staring at the skulls on the wall. He turned to Kelli. “Remember in Swamp Beast III? There was that creepy guy, the swamp hermit? Remember? He lived by himself in a cabin just like this, and he was totally insane?”
“I remember,” Kelli said. “Shawn, don’t get yourself all worked up.”
“He had some kind of crazy mind control over snakes,” Shawn continued, ignoring her. “And he kept sending the snakes out to strangle people in their sleep. And — and —”
“Shut up, Shawn!” Kelli cried. “You’re scaring yourself to death. That was only a movie. There’s no such thing as a swamp hermit,” she said — and the cabin door swung open.
They turned and watched a man step inside. He wore a long trench coat and a wide-brimmed hat drenched from the rain.
When he pulled the hat off, Kelli saw his white, scraggly beard.
She recognized him. The man she’d seen hiding behind a tree on their first morning at school. The morning of the huge footprints in the ground. This was the man who stood still as a statue and watched the whole thing from a distance.
Kelli and Shawn froze, staring at him.
He started to pull off his trench coat, but stopped when he spotted them. A thin smile formed under the white beard. “Why, hello,” he said in a hoarse, scratchy voice. “Do I have visitors?”
He turned and carefully latched the cabin door.
He just locked us in, Kelli realized.
She watched the man slide off his trench coat and hang it on a hook by the door. He slung his big rain hat over the coat. He tugged at his white ponytail, squeezing rainwater out. Then he turned back to them with that same thin smile on his bearded face.
Kelli studied his eyes. They were silver-gray — cold eyes a color she’d never seen on a person before. He had deep ruts down both of his cheeks. His skin appeared leathery, lined with tiny cracks, as if he’d spent too much time in the sun.
He took a few steps toward them, adjusting his red-and-black-checked flannel shirt over his baggy khaki shorts. The cabin floorboards squeaked under his shoes.
“I — I’m sorry we barged in here like this,” Kelli stammered. “I’m Kelli and this is my brother, Shawn. We … just wanted to get out of the rain.”
“We were lost,” Shawn added. “We took the wrong path.”
The man’s cold gray eyes studied them both. “You shouldn’t wander in the swamp,” he said. “There are so many dangerous creatures.”
Like swamp hermits? Kelli thought.
“Well, your front door just opened,” Kelli said, her heart pounding. “We didn’t mean to break in. We didn’t know how else to get dry. But we’re sorry if we —”
He waved a hand to silence her. “No worries,” he said softly.
Lightning flashed outside. The crackle sent a chill down
Kelli’s back.
We’re locked in.
The man crossed the room, the thin smile frozen on his face. “Your father is the scientist?” he asked.
“Yes,” they both answered at once. “He’s probably out looking for us,” Kelli added quickly. “Do you know our dad?”
The eerie silver eyes locked on Kelli. “I try to know everyone,” the man said.
“Well, we’ll get going,” Kelli said, inching toward the door. “If you tell us how to get to the right path …”
“I’m Ranger Saul,” the man said, ignoring her. “I used to work for the Park Service,” he said. “I know every inch of Deep Hole Swamp. But I don’t work for the Park Service anymore. They fired me.” He lowered his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about why.”
Shawn brought his face up close to Kelli’s. “He’s scary,” Shawn whispered.
Kelli nodded. She had her eyes on the cabin door. Could the two of them make it out the door before this guy Ranger Saul stopped them?
“I know the people, and I know the creatures of this swamp,” Saul said. “I know the trees and the strange junglelike plants. I know plants down here that eat meat. Do you believe that?” His eyes challenged them.
“Meat-eating plants and creatures you don’t find in the tourist guidebooks,” he continued. He uttered a dry laugh that sounded more like a cough. “But I’m no longer a ranger. Not good enough for them, I guess. But why am I telling you this?”
He stepped up to the table holding the knives. He picked up the butcher knife and ran his finger down the blade. His cold, silvery eyes were on Kelli.
“Why am I telling you this?” he repeated, his voice growing shrill.
He raised the knife. He ran his finger slowly down the blade one more time. His eyes remained on Kelli.
“No!” she cried, raising her hands as if to shield herself. “No! Please — don’t!”
Saul’s eyes went wide. He jerked back, startled by her cry. He set the knife down on the table. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I was just inspecting the blade.”
Kelli let out a sigh of relief. Her eyes went to the collection of skulls on the wall. “Are you a hunter?” she asked.
Saul nodded. He turned away from the knife table and crossed the room to the skulls. “Part of my job used to be animal control,” he said. “I was very good at it.”
He means he killed a lot of animals, Kelli thought.
Saul waved a hand at the wall. “These are some trophies,” he said. “Animals I caught. See that one?” He wiped his hand over the top of the skull. “That’s an anaconda.”
“Wow,” Shawn murmured. “A real one?”
Saul nodded. “As real as they get. It’s a beauty, isn’t it?” He didn’t wait for them to answer. “I got into making things out of snakeskin,” he continued. “You know. Wallets and things. Made some really nice-looking belts. And a pair of gloves.”
He smoothed a hand over a few more skulls. “These beauties are some of the snakes who contributed their skins.”
Kelli shivered. Why would a park ranger love to kill snakes? Wasn’t his job to protect them? And how weird was it to decorate a wall with snake heads? This man has to be totally twisted.
Shawn glanced out the window. “Are there … are there lots of dangerous snakes out there?”
Saul swept a hand down his white beard. His silvery eyes grew wide. “The swamp is home to many snake species,” he told Shawn. “You know about the pythons, don’t you?”
Shawn gasped. “Huh? Pythons?”
Saul nodded.
He enjoys scaring us, Kelli thought.
“Some pet owners had pythons they didn’t want to keep,” Saul explained. “So they dumped them in the swamp. They didn’t think about how snakes multiply and multiply. They didn’t think about how these big, powerful snakes could take over a swamp.”
Shawn shivered. “You mean … ?”
“There are hundreds of them in the swamp,” Saul said. He leaned toward them and continued in a raspy whisper: “Hundreds of deadly pythons!”
Shawn’s eyes were wide with fright. He had jammed his fists into his pants pockets and was suddenly breathing hard.
Kelli brought her face close to his. “This guy is creeping me out,” she whispered. “Let’s go.”
They began inching their way to the door.
Saul moved quickly, stepping in front of them, blocking their path. “Don’t hurry away,” he said. “Aren’t you going to stay until the rain stops?”
“We’re late. Dad will be worried,” Kelli said. “We’d better go.”
“I want to warn you —” Saul started.
But Kelli didn’t let him finish. She dove around him, pulling Shawn with her. And as Saul spun in surprise, she flipped open the latch, flung the door wide, and the two of them ran out into the rain.
The sky was still nearly as dark as night. Fat raindrops spattered her head and shoulders.
They both splashed up mud and waves of rainwater as they ran. Kelli’s legs felt heavy, her heart raced in her chest, but she forced herself to move. Shawn uttered short gasps as he ran close behind her.
Kelli heard a sound. Glanced back. Was the strange, frightening man chasing after them?
Yes. Yes, he was.
His boots pounded the wet, muddy ground. His eerie eyes were wide. His scraggly white hair flew around his head as he ran.
We can’t outrun him, Kelli thought. He’s going to catch us.
She pictured the dozens of skulls lined up on his wall.
Yes, he’s going to catch us.
And THEN what?
Kelli and Shawn turned to face him.
Saul came to a stop. Panting hard, he leaned forward, put his hands on his knees, and struggled to catch his breath.
“Why are you chasing us?” Kelli demanded.
He stood up, still breathing hard. “I just wanted to help you,” he said. “Point you in the right direction. You said you were lost.”
Kelli studied his face. Was he telling the truth? Did he just want to be helpful? Or was he trying to scare them?
Saul pointed. “That way. Just past those tall pine trees. That’s the path you want. You can follow it to your house.”
“Thank you,” Kelli said.
“Be careful,” Saul said. His eyes locked on hers. “Be very careful.”
Kelli turned away, a chill at the back of her neck. She didn’t like the man’s stare. She didn’t like the dark look in his eyes.
Was he giving them a friendly warning?
Or was it a threat?
* * *
“I think you should stay away from him,” their dad said at dinner. “Sometimes strange people go off and live by themselves in the swamp.”
“Swamp hermits,” Shawn said. “We saw one in Swamp Beast III.”
Dr. Andersen shook his head. “You can’t get that movie out of your head, can you, Shawn?” He flashed a scowl at Kelli.
Kelli looked away and took a bite of her Sloppy Joe sandwich. That was her dad’s specialty. Hamburger meat in a tangy sauce on a bun. He made Sloppy Joes once a week because he didn’t know how to cook much of anything else.
Ever since the divorce, their dad said he’d had to learn a whole bunch of “Homemaking Skills.” Cooking hadn’t been one of them. Kelli found herself making dinner a lot of the time.
“The man called himself Ranger Saul,” Kelli said. “Do you think he really was a park ranger?”
Her dad shrugged. “Hard to say. He could be telling the truth.”
“He said they fired him,” Shawn chimed in. “Probably because he’s totally weird. I mean, a whole wall of snake skulls?”
“Weird,” their dad repeated. “Yes, that qualifies as weird.”
Kelli shuddered. “I know I’m going to dream about those skulls for weeks.”
“I thought you were the brave one,” her dad said, wiping the orange sauce off his chin.
“The whole thing was Kelli’s fault,” Shawn said. “
If she could count trees, we wouldn’t have gotten lost. But she can’t even count to six.”
“Don’t make fun of your sister,” their dad scolded. “You know she has a problem with numbers. You don’t want her to make fun of you, do you?”
“And there’s a lot I could make fun of,” Kelli added. “Should I make a list?”
“Ha-ha.” Shawn tossed a potato chip across the table at her. Kelli grabbed it and ate it.
“How old are you?” their father asked Shawn. “You’re still throwing food?”
Shawn started to reply, but his expression suddenly changed. “I almost forgot,” he said. He dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a folded-up sheet of paper.
“Would anyone like another sandwich?” their dad asked. “There’s plenty left.”
“Wait,” Shawn said. “Don’t get up, Dad. You have to see this. It’s a note I found in my locker.”
He took the note from Shawn and read it out loud: “The Shaggedy wants you next, Shawn.” He rubbed his bald head. “Someone is playing a joke here.”
“My locker was filled with swamp water,” Shawn said. “It wasn’t funny. My books were all ruined. And this note was there.”
Dad stared at the scrawled words, frowning. He handed the note back to Shawn. “I guess you’re supposed to think this creature called a Shaggedy is going to come and get you. And drag you into the swamp or something. You’re not really scared — are you?”
Shawn hesitated. “Well …”
“No reason to be scared,” his dad said. “You know as well as I do, there’s no such thing as a Shaggedy.” Behind his glasses, his eyes twinkled. “Hey, why don’t you play a trick on those two kids? Zeke and Decker? I’m sure we could think of something that’s actually funny. They probably like jokes.”
“I don’t think so,” Kelli chimed in. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I wouldn’t want to mess with these two guys. Seriously.”
After dinner, Kelli texted a bunch of her friends back in New York. And she talked to Marci for nearly half an hour. “I’m so totally homesick,” she told her friend. “It’s like another planet down here. I’d do anything to come back home.”