[Goosebumps 43] - The Beast from the East

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[Goosebumps 43] - The Beast from the East Page 7

by R. L. Stine


  Nat kicked and punched. But he couldn’t free himself.

  The beast dumped Nat beside Pat and me. Nat landed hard, face-down on the ground.

  Now they had all three of us. A feast!

  Spork and Fleg gazed at us hungrily. Gleeb ran his tongue over his long fang.

  I dropped down beside Nat. “How did you get out?” I asked him. “How did you get out of that cage?”

  Nat rolled over and sat up. “It wasn’t that hard,” he said, groaning. “The boards were weak. I worked and worked—until I pushed enough boards out. Then I broke out.”

  “You should have stayed away,” I told him. “You should have run. Now they’re going to eat you, too.”

  Nat raised his eyes to the cook pot and the blazing fire. “I—I don’t want to play anymore,” he stammered.

  “Nat,” I whispered sadly, “I’m afraid the game is just about over.”

  33

  “Quiet!” Fleg demanded. “Dinner—stop talking!” He stared at Nat.

  Fleg’s eyes narrowed. He tilted his head. He whispered to Spork and Gleeb.

  The other beasts moved closer. They were all moving their eyes from Pat to Nat. They began murmuring to each other, shaking their big, furry heads. Their snouts waved up and down as they talked.

  “You doubled!” Spork said to Pat. “You did a Classic Clone!”

  I stared at the beasts. Studied their startled expressions. Hadn’t they ever seen twins before?

  “You doubled yourselves!” Fleg declared. “That’s a Classic Clone. Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “Uh… tell you what?” I asked.

  Fleg glared at me. “Why didn’t you tell us that you are Level Three players?”

  My brothers and I exchanged confused glances.

  “You’re in the wrong game,” Spork announced, shaking his head.

  “If you can double yourselves, that means you belong in Level Three,” Fleg said. He slapped his furry forehead. “I’m so embarrassed! Why didn’t you tell us sooner?”

  “Well, I told you we didn’t want to play,” I replied sharply. “But you wouldn’t listen.”

  “I’m so sorry,” Fleg apologized. “We’re only Level One players. We’re just beginners. We’re not experts like you.”

  “Experts?” Pat muttered. He turned to me and rolled his eyes.

  “That’s why we have to play in the daytime,” Fleg explained. “We’re not ready to play at night.”

  All around us, the beasts were muttering and shaking their heads.

  “Of course, we’ll have to let you go now,” Fleg said. He scratched at his flabby chin.

  “Well, of course,” I cried. I wanted to jump up and down and shout for joy. But somehow I kept myself in control.

  “That’s it?” Nat cried to Fleg. “We’re free?”

  “Yes. Good-bye.” Fleg scowled. He rubbed his belly. I heard it growl.

  “Don’t ask again,” I told Nat. “Let’s just get out of here!”

  “Good-bye,” Fleg repeated. He waved his paws as if he were trying to shoo us away.

  I jumped to my feet. I didn’t feel tired or scared or itchy or dirty anymore.

  This time the game was really over!

  “How do we find our parents?” I asked.

  “That’s easy,” Fleg replied. “Follow that path.” He pointed. “Follow it through the trees. It leads back to your world.”

  We shouted good-bye—and took off. The narrow dirt path twisted through the trees. Silvery moonlight danced over the ground.

  “I am so glad you guys are twins!” I exclaimed.

  I had never said that before! But I really meant it. They had saved our lives!

  The trees thinned out. I could see a full moon climbing up over the dark treetops. I felt as if we were running to it, running into its warm, white light.

  “Mom and Dad will never believe this story,” I said. I planned to tell them every gory detail.

  “They have to believe us,” Pat declared. “It’s all true.”

  I put on a burst of speed. My brothers ran harder to keep up with me.

  I couldn’t wait to get back. Mom and Dad must be so worried.

  “Oh!” I gasped and skidded to a stop.

  Pat and Nat stumbled into me. All three of us struggled to stay on our feet.

  A huge beast had stepped out from behind a tree, blocking the path.

  He crossed his furry arms over his enormous chest. His snout flared as he stared down at us with cold marble eyes. He opened his lips and growled, exposing his long fang.

  I wasn’t afraid. Not this time.

  “Step aside,” I ordered him. “You have to let us go by. My brothers and I are Level Three players.”

  “You’re Level Three? Hey—that’s great! So am I!” the beast exclaimed. “Tag! You’re It.”

  Scanning, formatting and

  proofing by Undead.

 

 

 


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