All-Night Party

by R. L. Stine

  Leading the way, Gretchen ran through the woods as fast as she could. She pushed away the branches whipping at her face and clothes.

  She had to get to Hannah!

  As the trees thinned out, Gretchen could see the outline of the cabin at the end of the trail.

  And she could hear Hannah’s screams.

  She was still alive!

  Gretchen’s eyes searched the ground for a weapon she could use against the killer. Spying a sharp, heavy rock, she grabbed it.

  Gretchen raced out of the woods with Jackson behind her. She hurtled toward the cabin, expecting to see Hannah struggling with the killer.

  Yes! Hannah! Outside the cabin. Twisting to free herself from someone’s hold.

  Who was it?

  Gretchen squinted through the darkness.

  Then she recognized Gil, holding Hannah’s arms.

  Marco and Patrick stepped up beside him. All three of them were trying to drag Hannah inside.

  Gretchen watched as Hannah kicked and screamed. She clutched the door frame of the cabin with both hands.

  Marco and Gil held Hannah tightly as Patrick pried her fingers free and shoved her inside.

  She kicked out at Patrick.

  Pain washed over Patrick’s face as he clutched his knee.

  Gretchen and Jackson hurried up the front path and into the cabin. They found everyone in the front room.

  Gil, Marco, and Patrick had surrounded Hannah in a circle.

  She sat on the floor. Her mud-spattered clothes clung wetly to her.

  She gazed up at Gretchen with a hunted expression on her face, like a rabbit surrounded by snarling dogs.

  “Why are you doing this?” Hannah shrieked. “I didn’t do anything.”

  “When you and I went down to the dock to look at the stars, you left me. You said you were cold. You went back to the cabin to get your sweater,” Gil remembered. “You could have killed Cindy then, Hannah. Then planted all the evidence to frame Patrick.”

  Gretchen turned to Gil. “Why didn’t you say anything about this before?” she demanded. “Why didn’t you tell us Hannah went back to the cabin?”

  Gil shrugged. “I didn’t think it mattered. I thought the escaped prisoner killed Cindy. Then I thought it was Patrick. But now I’m not so sure.”

  “I got my sweater. Then when I got back to the dock, you weren’t there,” Hannah cried to Gil. “You could have murdered Cindy and framed Patrick. Not me.

  Neither Hannah nor Gil have alibis, Gretchen realized.

  Either one of them could be the killer.

  “If anyone in this room wanted Cindy dead, it was you, Hannah!” Patrick declared. “You hated her.”

  “I didn’t do it!” Hannah cried.

  “Then why did you run away?” Marco demanded.

  “Because I want to go home,” Hannah sobbed. “I’m scared and I want to go home. That’s the only reason.”

  “We know the real reason you ran away,” Patrick suddenly accused. “You were trying to escape. Because you killed Cindy.”

  Gretchen watched as Hannah’s features hardened. She wiped the tears from her eyes with her fingertips.

  She stared at Patrick defiantly.

  A cold smile hovered on her lips, and her eyes narrowed.

  “You’re right!” Hannah declared. “I did kill Cindy.”

  Chapter

  33

  “I’ve killed at least twenty people,” Hannah declared. “Now I’m going to kill all of you. Then I’m going back to Shadyside and kill everyone there!”

  Gretchen stared at Hannah in shock.

  But then she realized that Hannah was being sarcastic.

  “How could you accuse me of such a thing?” Hannah lashed out. “There’s a murderer in this room. But it’s not me.” She put her head down and began sobbing again.

  Gretchen ran her tongue over her lips while listening to Hannah. Her lips felt so dry.

  Finding her purse on the coffee table, Gretchen opened it up on her lap and started searching for her Chap Stick.

  She sifted through an open pack of gum, a roll of breath mints, a hairbrush and comb, a pink hair band, her wallet, and loose change.

  She dug around the bottom of the purse, trying to find the tiny tube of Chap Stick.

  “Hey—” she cried out as her purse fell off her lap. Everything inside spilled out, scattering across the floor.

  Gretchen bent down to pick up the fallen items. As she tossed them back into her purse, she came across a folded note.

  Curious, she picked the folded note off the floor and opened it.

  She quickly scanned the written words on the crinkled piece of paper, barely reading them. It was an old note. She didn’t even remember now why she saved it.

  She started to put the note back into her purse, but then stopped.

  With trembling fingers, Gretchen stared at the words again.

  It can’t be, she thought. I have to be wrong.

  Gretchen read the note a second time, much more carefully, and her eyes widened with horror. She felt a chill run up her spine as she realized the awful truth.

  I know who the killer is.

  Chapter

  34

  “Gretchen?” Jackson’s voice broke into Gretchen’s thoughts. “Are you okay?”

  “Patrick—why did you do it?” Gretchen asked in a hoarse whisper. “Why did you kill Cindy?”

  “What are you talking about?” Patrick demanded angrily. “I thought we settled this.”

  Gretchen gazed at Patrick with disbelief. He looks so innocent, but he’s not.

  Patrick is a cold-blooded killer.

  He planned this to the smallest detail. And he almost pulled it off.

  Almost.

  Everyone turned to stare at Gretchen.

  Gretchen shook her head sadly. She felt the words stick in her throat. “You killed her, Patrick. And I have the proof. Real proof this time.”

  “Proof? What proof? Why do you think I killed her?” Patrick demanded. “Why would I do such a thing?”

  Gretchen held up the note she had found in her purse. “This is a note you wrote to me, saying that you would bring the soda for the party.”

  “So?” Patrick remarked. “What’s the big deal?”

  “It’s the same handwriting as the note that Cindy supposedly wrote to you,” Gretchen announced. “You wrote that note, Patrick. You left it in your backpack.”

  “Are you sure?” Gil snatched the note out of Gretchen’s hand. He examined it closely.

  “Where are Cindy’s history notes?” Jackson asked. “And the note we found in Patrick’s backpack. Let’s compare them to this note.”

  Gretchen reached into her jeans pocket and took out the notes. She handed them to Marco, and he spread them out on the coffee table.

  Jackson and Gil sat down on either side of him and studied the notes.

  “Gretchen is right,” Marco said, looking up at Patrick. “The writing matches.”

  Hannah peeked at the note. “How can you tell?”

  “Take a look at the ‘y’ in the note Patrick wrote to me,” Gretchen explained. “It’s written the same squiggly way as the ‘y’ in the note we found in his backpack. Patrick wrote both notes.”

  Patrick uttered a hoarse cry. “I wrote a note to myself? I wrote a note to make myself look guilty?”

  He rolled his eyes. “Give me a break, Gretchen. I think you’ve really lost it now.”

  Gretchen felt the tension in her body pulling every muscle taut. Her head pounded.

  “You know what you did, Patrick,” Gretchen replied slowly. “You planted all the evidence against yourself. You framed yourself—didn’t you, Patrick? To throw suspicion on someone else.”

  “Maybe I did,” Patrick replied coldly.

  He reached into his black leather jacket.

  And pulled out the pistol.

  “And now maybe I have no choice. Maybe I have to kill you all,” he sneered.

  Chapter


  35

  Hannah screamed.

  “Put it down!” Gretchen cried. She took a step toward Patrick.

  And saw him raise the silver gun barrel toward her.

  Patrick shook his head. He stared at Gretchen with eyes that were suddenly glazed. His features were hard.

  He’s become a totally different person, Gretchen realized.

  “Why did you kill her?” Gretchen asked. “Why did you kill Cindy?”

  “Shut up, shut up, shut up!” Patrick chanted. He squeezed his eyes closed for a second, as if he were in pain.

  “Everybody shut up. And keep still,” Patrick warned, opening his eyes again. He swung the gun around, pointing it at each one of them. “Don’t move. I’m warning you.”

  “But why?” Gretchen insisted. “Why did you kill her?”

  “Tell us,” Gil said. “We want to know.”

  “She was your friend, Patrick,” Hannah cried. “Why did you kill her?”

  Patrick sighed. “She found out something I did,” Patrick revealed. “Something bad.”

  “What?” Gretchen urged.

  “Something that happened before I moved here,” Patrick whispered. “No one knew about it. Not even my parents. But Cindy knew. Cindy found out.”

  “What did she do after she found out?” Jackson asked. “Did she threaten to tell other people?”

  Patrick shook his head. “No. She didn’t do that.”

  “Then what did she do?” Gil asked.

  “She teased me,” Patrick replied. “She loved teasing me about it. At first it didn’t matter, because I was so crazy about her. But she didn’t care about me. She didn’t care about me at all! You know what she did?”

  “What?” Gretchen croaked.

  Patrick’s face twisted with rage. “She pretended to like me. But she went out with Gil!” he screamed. “She didn’t care about hurting me. She only wanted to tease me. All she cared about was reminding me about what I’d done. Teasing me. Teasing me. Teasing me.”

  He let out a sob. “It was too much. I—I guess I just cracked.”

  “And so you killed her tonight,” Gretchen choked out.

  “Yes,” Patrick replied softly, lowering his eyes. “I—I planned it so carefully. From the moment I found out we were having this party.”

  His chin trembled. His whole body shook. “I gave Cindy a birthday present to die for.”

  Gretchen swallowed hard. I had no idea Patrick was so troubled, she thought. No idea.

  I guess we never know what’s really inside people—even our good friends.

  “I almost changed my mind about killing her,” Patrick continued. “After everyone left the cabin, I followed her into the kitchen. I told her I wanted to give her a kiss for her birthday. But do you know what she did?”

  No one answered.

  “She laughed at me!” Patrick shrieked. “She said she’d never let me kiss her. She tried to leave the kitchen, but I wouldn’t let her. I grabbed her by the arm. And when I did, she slapped me.”

  So it was Patrick, not Jackson, I heard arguing with Cindy, Gretchen thought.

  Patrick shook his head sadly. “She shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Is that when you killed her?” Gretchen asked.

  “Yes,” Patrick answered. “You should have seen the expression on her face when she saw the knife. She really didn’t think I’d do it. I didn’t either. But—but I did.”

  Patrick’s face darkened with anger. “I did. Don’t you see? I had to put a stop to the teasing. I couldn’t take the teasing anymore.”

  Patrick raised the pistol and aimed it at Gretchen. His finger tightened on the trigger.

  It’s all over, Gretchen realized. Patrick’s going to kill me.

  “I’m sorry. But now you have to die, too,” Patrick whispered.

  Gretchen watched helplessly as Patrick’s finger tightened on the trigger.

  Squeezing it back.

  There’s nothing I can do, Gretchen thought. I can’t get away. I’m going to die.

  Gretchen squeezed her eyes shut. She covered her face with her hands.

  She heard the deafening gunshot.

  Then, her own terrified scream.

  Chapter

  36

  Gretchen waited for the burning pain.

  Waited.

  Waited.

  She opened her eyes. She saw the front door of the cabin swing open. The door slamming against the wall had been the loud noise.

  Not a gunshot.

  A dark-haired police officer in a blue uniform stood in the doorway. A sandy-haired officer stood behind him.

  “Are you kids okay?” he asked. He stepped into the cabin. The other officer followed behind, shaking rain off his uniform. “My partner and I—”

  Gretchen watched in horror as Patrick turned the gun on the police officer.

  “No!” Gretchen screamed. “Patrick! No!”

  Gretchen threw herself at Patrick.

  She pushed him to the floor, pinning him underneath her.

  Behind her, she heard her friends screaming.

  The two police officers dove across the living room.

  Gretchen clawed at the gun in Patrick’s hand.

  He tried to twist away from her. Raised the gun toward her again.

  Gretchen gripped his hand and smashed it against the floor.

  Smashed it hard. Again. Again.

  Finally, his grip loosened.

  The dark-haired officer reached down and snatched the gun away from Patrick.

  The other officer pulled Gretchen to her feet.

  Patrick sprawled on the floor, rubbing the hand Gretchen had smashed.

  The officer locked the handcuffs around Patrick’s wrists.

  Gretchen glanced at the nametag on the policeman’s uniform: READE. “You got here just in time, Officer Reade,” she told him.

  “Looks that way,” he replied, glancing around the cabin.

  Gretchen took a deep breath. “He—he killed Cindy,” she stammered. “Her body—it’s in the kitchen.”

  “He stabbed her to death with a knife,” Hannah sobbed.

  “At first we thought the escaped prisoner had killed her…” Gretchen continued

  “Escaped prisoner?” Officer Reade gave Gretchen a puzzled look.

  He pulled Patrick to his feet. Gretchen saw the dark scowl on Patrick’s face. He staggered forward, his head hanging, his hands clasped behind his back.

  “What escaped prisoner?” Officer Reade asked.

  “The one who killed those three teenage girls,” Gretchen replied.

  The police officers exchanged confused glances.

  “Officer Harding and I don’t know anything about an escaped prisoner,” Officer Reade replied.

  Patrick tossed back his head in an ugly laugh. “That’s right,” he said. “There was no escaped prisoner. I made him up and told you he killed teenage girls so that you would believe he killed Cindy.”

  “And we did believe you,” Gretchen sighed. “Because you were our friend.”

  “You were all so stupid,” Patrick murmured, shaking his head. “You believed everything I told you. You fell for all the evidence I planted. The forged note. The bootprint in the flour. The bloody knife in my sleeping bag. Even with Cindy’s blood on my shirt and my baseball cap in her hand, you believed that I didn’t do it.”

  “That’s because we didn’t want to believe you could do something so horrible,” Gretchen said in a whisper.

  Patrick narrowed his eyes at the two officers. “Why are you here?”

  “Your father told us you stole his gun. He said you were coming here for a party and asked us to get it back,” Officer Reade answered.

  “Patrick said that Cindy found out something about him,” Gretchen told the officers. “She found out something he did before he moved here. Patrick said that’s why he had to kill her.”

  Officer Harding turned to Patrick. “Oh, yeah? Did she find out you set that fire in
Waynesbridge?”

  Patrick sneered. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  The police officers exchanged glances. “You got away with those things because of your father,” Officer Reade told Patrick. “But you won’t get away with this.”

  He dragged Patrick out of the cabin.

  Officer Harding turned to Gretchen and her friends. “Do you mind waiting here until we take him back to shore? We’ll send another boat back for the rest of you.”

  Gretchen watched until the officers were out of sight, then turned to her friends.

  “How did Cindy find out that Patrick set a fire in Waynesbridge?” she asked.

  “She didn’t find out,” Hannah replied. “Cindy didn’t know anything bad about Patrick. She just liked to tease him. She used to tell him he looked dangerous.”

  “Dangerous? That’s all?” Marco exclaimed.

  “That’s all,” Hannah said sadly. “She didn’t really know anything. Not anything at all. And do you know what I think? Do you know why Cindy teased Patrick so much? Because she liked him.”

  Gretchen sighed, suddenly feeling very tired.

  Jackson slid his arm around her shoulders.

  She snuggled her head against him.

  Outside the window, the sun was rising.

  “Party’s over,” she whispered.

  About the Author

  R.L. Stine invented the teen horror genre with Fear Street, the bestselling teen horror series of all time. He also changed the face of children’s publishing with the mega-successful Goosebumps series, which Guinness World Records cites as the Best-Selling Children’s Books ever, and went on to become a worldwide multimedia phenomenon. The first two books in his new series Mostly Ghostly, Who Let the Ghosts Out? and Have You Met My Ghoulfriend? are New York Times bestsellers. He’s thrilled to be writing for teens again in the brand-new Fear Street Nights books.

  R.L. Stine has received numerous awards of recognition, including several Nickelodeon Kids’ Choice Awards and Disney Adventures Kids’ Choice Awards, and he has been selected by kids as one of their favorite authors in the National Education Association Read Across America. He lives in New York City with his wife, Jane, and their dog, Nadine.