by R. L. Stine
prologue
The grinding roar of the chain saw grew louder. Its jarring vibrations made the entire tree shake.
Desperately, Deena clung to the high tree branch. Next to her, Jade, her features twisted in horror, wrapped her arms tightly around the trunk and held on.
The tree began to shake harder as the chains bit through the thick bark and into the wood. Struggling frantically not to slip off, Deena stared down through the night darkness into the determined face of Stanley Farberson.
“No!” she screamed. “No—please!”
But the screech of the chain saw drowned out her pleas.
Farberson killed his wife. And now he’s going to kill Jade and me because we know what he did!
The terrifying thought repeated in her mind. Repeated until the words roared louder than the grinding saw.
The tree shook more violently. Deena heard a frightening crack.
The sound of bones breaking, she thought.
The trunk split. And then the whole tree began to tilt.
“We’re going down!” Jade wailed. Then said nothing more, her face frozen in a mask of terror.
Deena hugged the branch tighter as the tree started to topple. She opened her mouth to scream—but no sound came out.
Her eyes bulging in horror, she watched as the tree began to fall, carrying her with it.
And now she was falling—falling straight into the whirling blades of the saw.
• • •
“Ohh.” Deena let out a low moan and shook her head.
“I’m okay.” Yes, she was okay. She was hunched over her desk, staring at the night sky outside her bedroom window.
Remembering.
Remembering once again that horrifying night. The night on Fear Street. The night Stanley Farberson nearly killed her and Jade.
A year has passed, she told herself, shaking her head as if trying to shake away the memories. Why do I keep reliving it again and again? Why do I keep putting myself back in that tree, watching Farberson’s wild eyes, hearing the roar of the chain saw.
Deena stood up and walked shakily to the dresser mirror. Leaning on the dresser, she gazed at herself, at her tired eyes, her tense, tight-lipped expression.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of now,” she told herself. “Farberson is in prison. Locked up for life. He can’t get out. He can’t hurt us now. He can’t . . .”
chapter
1
“So how would I look as a blonde?”
“What?” Deena Martinson slammed her history book shut and gazed up at her friend.
“I’m serious,” Jade Smith said, twirling a strand of her long auburn hair around her finger. “I think being blond would be interesting, don’t you? I’d look just like Sharon Stone.”
Deena laughed. “I don’t believe you,” she said. “You have the most beautiful hair in the school, and you want to change it?”
“Or maybe I should get colored contacts.” Jade rolled off her bed, where she’d been studying. She stood in front of her full-length mirror. Her bright green cat suit made her eyes appear even greener, and showed off her great figure.
She curled her thumbs and forefingers into little O’s and held them around her eyes. “How would I look with blue eyes?” she asked.
“Jade, what’s your problem?” Deena demanded. “You’re totally gorgeous the way you are. Why do you want to change anything?”
“I’m bored,” Jade complained. She dropped back on her bed, fished around in the night-table drawer for an emery board, and began to file the nails on her left hand.
“So am I,” Deena said, sighing. “Maybe I’m the one who should get a new look.”
“Why do you say that?” asked Jade.
“I don’t know. Maybe it would be easier to find a new boyfriend if I looked different.”
Jade laughed. “What’s the story with you and Pete Goodwin?”
“Pete’s kind of boring,” Deena replied softly.
“You want to get back with Rob Morell—don’t you!” Jade accused.
Deena could feel her face getting hot and knew she was blushing. “Maybe.”
“Well, forget it,” Jade told her. “Rob is so stoked over Debra Kern, he can barely speak to anyone else.” Jade concentrated on her nails. “What about Steve Mason? He’s kind of cute. And he has that great Australian accent.”
“He’d never be interested in me,” Deena murmured.
“Why not?” Jade asked. “All you have to do is go after him.”
“For sure!” Deena said, rolling her eyes. “And how am I supposed to do that?”
“It’s easy,” Jade replied. “The next time you see him, just go up and talk to him. Let him know you’re interested.”
“Why would that make him interested in me?”
“It always works for me,” Jade said. “In fact—”
The phone on her night table rang. She set down the emery board to pick up the receiver. “Oh, hi, Teddy!” Her voice sounded as if it were dripping with honey. “Well, of course I do. How are you?”
Deena stared at her friend in awe. When she spoke to a boy, Jade’s whole face changed. Her eyes lit up, and her mouth twisted into a mischievous smile. The tone of her voice made it sound as if the boy were the most wonderful person in the whole world.
Deena and Jade had been friends since fourth grade. But Deena still didn’t know how her friend managed to do it.
“Yes, Teddy, we will. Uh-huh. That’s Friday night, right? Of course. Wouldn’t miss it. Okay.” Jade hung up the phone.
“Teddy, right?” Deena asked.
“Uh-huh.” Jade nodded. “He wanted to make sure I’m going to the game tomorrow night.”
Teddy Miller, the star guard for the Shadyside Tigers basketball team, was tall and rugged. Most of the girls thought he was one of the best-looking guys in the school. He’d gone out with at least a dozen girls, and now he was very interested in Jade.
“Hey, I thought you and I were going to the game together,” Deena said.
“Well, of course we’re going together,” Jade replied. “Teddy just wants to make sure I watch him play.” She narrowed her eyes and studied Deena. “You know what’s wrong with you?” she said. “You don’t have enough confidence.”
Deena laughed. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“That’s why you won’t go up and talk to Steve,” Jade concluded. “You’re one of the cutest and smartest girls at Shadyside High. I don’t know why you won’t let Steve know that.”
Because I’m shy, Deena thought to herself. But then she realized that was just another way of saying she didn’t have confidence. Maybe Jade was right.
“Hand me my brush, will you?” asked Jade. “It’s on the dresser.”
Deena reached for the hairbrush. Underneath it was an envelope addressed to Jade. She handed Jade the brush, then picked up the envelope. Deena recognized the handwriting. “Is this from Chuck?” she asked.
“It came yesterday,” Jade said, running the brush through her auburn hair.
“How often does he write you?” Deena asked.
“Every week,” Jade replied.
“You’re kidding!” Deena cried. “Chuck has time at college to write letters?”
“Guess so,” Jade said.
“Maybe college has changed him,” Deena said thoughtfully, staring at the envelope. “He seems to be keeping out of trouble. Not one call from the police down there!”
Jade snickered. “Your half brother is a wild man, all right! I think he’s the most hotheaded guy I ever met.” She continued brushing out her hair.
Hotheaded is one word for it, Deena thought darkly. Crazy is another. But maybe Chuck has learned to control that temper of his.
She felt the
memories of last year pushing their way back into her mind. She remembered Chuck making those stupid phone calls. Calling phone numbers at random—just for laughs.
But the laughs had ended when Chuck dialed the number on Fear Street. Stanley Farberson’s number. Chuck had called at a bad time. Farberson was about to murder his wife. Her screams in the background forced Deena, Jade, and Chuck to go to their house to investigate.
To get involved.
To get involved in a horrible murder. To nearly get themselves killed too.
All because of Chuck.
“Sometimes he writes more often,” Jade said. “He’s really become kind of sweet. Too bad I don’t have time to answer.”
“What do you mean you don’t have time?” Deena accused.
“You know I like Chuck,” Jade explained. “But, really, he’s off in college, and I’m here in Shadyside. Am I supposed to pine away for him?”
Deena didn’t answer for a moment. Jade always went from boy to boy. But somehow it made a difference when it was Deena’s own half brother. “Does Chuck know you’re going out with Teddy? And the other guys?” Deena asked.
“I don’t know what Chuck knows,” Jade answered sharply. “I mean, what Chuck doesn’t know can’t hurt him, right?”
“I guess,” Deena muttered. She felt annoyed. It wasn’t as if Jade and Chuck were engaged or anything. But it seemed to Deena that they were right for each other.
“If Chuck finds out and loses his temper—” Deena started to say.
“No problem. I can handle Chuck,” Jade assured her. She finished brushing her hair and stood up. “I’m going to get some chips or something downstairs. Want a Coke?” she asked.
Without waiting for an answer, Jade started down the hall. As she did, the phone rang again. “Would you get that for me?” she called back.
“Sure,” Deena said. She picked up the phone. As a goof, she decided to try to imitate Jade’s honey-dripping voice. “Hellooooo,” she purred.
“Is this Jade?” the voice on the other end growled.
“Who is this?” Deena asked, her heart pounding.
“This is your wrong number, Jade,” the deep voice rasped.
“Huh? My what?”
“This is your wrong number. I’m coming to disconnect your line. Real soon.”
chapter
2
“Who was it?” Jade asked, walking back into the room. She set a bowl of chips on the dresser and handed Deena a can of Coke.
“It was— I think it was a wrong number,” Deena stammered.
“I get a lot of wrong numbers,” Jade said, chewing on a large potato chip. “I wonder if—” She stopped when she saw Deena’s expression. “Deena? You look weird. Is something wrong?”
“It was the call,” Deena explained. “He said he was your—your wrong number.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Jade, it sounded like Mr. Farberson!” Deena cried. “His voice was all deep and hoarse.”
“You’re kidding,” Jade said, surprisingly calm. She reached for another handful of chips. “It couldn’t be him, Deena. No way.”
“I know,” Deena admitted. “But he had the same kind of scary voice. And he said—he was coming here or something.”
“No way,” Jade repeated. “Farberson was sentenced to twenty years. He won’t even be up for parole for years.”
“Well . . .” Deena thought about it a moment. “You’re right. I know you are. But I can’t help being upset whenever I think about him. I still have nightmares about what happened.”
“So do I,” Jade admitted. “I mean, he nearly killed us, after all.
“It’s hard to believe it all started with a phone call,” Jade continued.
“A prank call,” Deena added. “But it was so much fun—at least at first.”
“I loved it when we were calling up those guys,” Jade said, grinning. “Remember putting on those sexy voices and trying to convince them we were secretly in love with them? What a crazy thing to do.”
“But it stopped being fun once Chuck got involved,” Deena reminded her. “Especially when he started making threatening calls.”
“Chuck is a baaaad dude,” Jade said, snickering. She offered Deena the bowl of chips. “That call you just answered was probably some jerk from school trying to scare us. After all, everyone in Shadyside knows what happened last year.”
“Yeah. Probably,” Deena replied thoughtfully. “But it was still kind of frightening.”
“Forget about it,” Jade said firmly. “Here. Have some potato chips. Live dangerously!”
• • •
Deena’s call came a little before midnight.
She had just turned out the light and was drifting off to sleep. The ringing phone jarred her awake.
“Hello?” she murmured, her voice clogged with sleep.
“Deena? Deena Martinson?” the voice on the other end whispered.
“Yes?” Fear rushed in.
“I called your friend earlier,” the voice rasped.
“Who is this?” Deena demanded, sitting up, her heart pounding.
“Let’s just say I’m an old friend. Someone you haven’t seen for a long time.”
“What do you want?” Deena cried shrilly.
She suddenly felt angry. It couldn’t be Farberson. He was in prison. So who was making these calls?
“What do you want?” Deena shouted.
“Revenge,” the voice whispered.
Deena heard a click. The line went dead.
• • •
The next morning Deena struggled to pay attention in algebra, but she couldn’t get her mind to concentrate on numbers. Instead, she kept hearing the caller’s rough voice, and the frightening one-word threat—“Revenge.”
Deena was taken completely by surprise when Mr. Forrest handed out a review quiz. She didn’t have a chance to complete it by the time the bell rang. So she quickly scribbled answers to the last three problems.
She handed in her quiz and began gathering her papers and books. As she headed through the door, she nearly bumped into Steve Mason. He had a class in that room next period.
The trouble with you is you don’t have any confidence. Jade’s words from the night before rang in her mind. Just talk to him, Jade had instructed. Let him know you’re interested.
Why not? Deena thought. Before she could think twice about it, she made herself talk to him. “Hi, Steve!” She greeted him with a big smile.
“Hey. G’day,” he replied, surprised.
“How do you like the cold weather?” Deena blurted out.
“It’s not bad, actually,” he said. “Different from Sydney.” He smiled at her.
“Who’s Sydney?” Deena joked.
She expected him to laugh, but he didn’t.
Does he think I don’t know that Sydney is a city in Australia? Deena wondered, feeling her face grow red.
“Well, have a nice day,” she finished lamely. What a bomb! she thought unhappily, hurrying away.
“Yeah. Bye now,” she heard him call after her.
• • •
When Deena came out of gym, her last class, she found Jade waiting for her by the water fountain. Jade was wearing a bright red cat suit with a short black jacket.
I could never wear anything like that, Deena thought. But Jade, as usual, looked fabulous.
Also, as usual, she was surrounded by boys—Teddy and three of his friends from the basketball team.
“Talk to you later, Teddy.” Jade gave him a big smile. “Deena and I are going to my house to work on our science term papers.”
“Later,” Teddy said, giving both girls a quick one-fingered salute. He ambled off with his friends.
Deena led the way out of school. A bright sun peeked through puffs of cloud, but the air felt cold. Snow had been on the ground for several days. Now it was patchy and gray. The sidewalks were puddled and covered with dirty slush.
Jade’s house wasn’t fa
r from school. As they walked down Park Drive, Deena began telling her friend about the midnight phone call.
“You’re kidding!” Jade exclaimed. “The same guy?”
“It sounded like him,” Deena insisted. “He called me by my name, and he mentioned you.”
“It’s got to be some jerk playing a dumb joke—right?” Jade asked. “No way it could be Farberson.” She sounded a little uncertain. “People can’t sit around in their prison cells making phone calls, right?”
“I don’t think so,” said Deena. “But even if Farberson could, why would he call us? He’s going to be in there for years and years.”
“So it’s got to be someone else. Someone who wants to give us a scare,” Jade decided.
“I guess.”
“That means the best way to deal with it is to not be scared,” Jade suggested.
“Right,” Deena echoed. She started to tell Jade about her very short conversation with Steve that morning—when her friend suddenly grabbed her wrist.
“Deena!” Jade whispered. “Do you see that car up ahead?”
Deena hadn’t been paying attention, but now she turned to the street. A battered green Oldsmobile with tinted windows was slowly cruising away from them. “What about it?” she said.
“It just passed us for the second time.”
“You’re kidding,” said Deena. “Why would it do that? Is it someone from school?”
“I don’t know. But I wonder—There it goes.” The car abruptly sped up and turned the corner, its tires squealing.
“Weird,” Jade murmured. “Anyway, what were you about to say?”
Deena gathered her scattered thoughts and told Jade what had happened that morning when she’d run into Steve. “He didn’t even get my joke!” she wailed.
Jade laughed. “Maybe he heard it before.” Her expression turned serious. “So what happened after you talked to him?”
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Well, I had to go to class. Besides, I didn’t know what else to say.”
“It doesn’t matter what you say,” Jade assured her. “Just keep letting him know you’re interested. Next time you see him, ask him about something. Ask him about his favorite Australian rock band. Or ask him what sports he played back home. Just don’t make any more jokes about Sydney.”