Monster Blood

by R. L. Stine

  “To see a friend,” Evan replied uncertainly. Maybe these guys were just bluffing.

  “Not allowed,” the twin said quickly, grinning at his brother.

  They both snickered and moved toward Evan, forcing him to back off the curb onto the street.

  “You’re not a resident,” the other one repeated. He narrowed his eyes, trying to look tough.

  “Hey, give me a break, guys,” Evan said. He tried moving to the side, walking on the street, to get around them. But they both moved quickly to keep him from getting away.

  “Maybe you could pay a toll,” one of them said.

  “Yeah,” the other one quickly chimed in. “You could pay the nonresident toll. You know, to get temporary permission for walking on this block.”

  “I don’t have any money,” Evan said, feeling his fear grow.

  He suddenly remembered he had eight dollars in his pocket. Were they going to rob him? Would they beat him up and then rob him?

  “You have to pay the toll,” one of them said, leering at him. “Let’s just see what you’ve got.”

  They both moved quickly forward, making a grab for him.

  He backed away. His legs felt heavy from fear.

  Suddenly, a voice cried out from down the sidewalk. “Hey — what’s going on?”

  Evan raised his eyes past the two hulking boys to see Andy speeding toward them on her bike along the curb. “Evan — hi!” she called.

  The twins turned away from Evan to greet the new arrival. “Hi, Andy,” one of them said in a mocking tone.

  “How’s it going, Andy?” the other one asked, imitating his brother.

  Andy braked her bike and dropped both feet to the ground. She was wearing bright pink shorts and a yellow sleeveless undershirt top. Her face was red, her forehead beaded with perspiration from pedaling so hard.

  “You two,” she said, and made an unpleasant face. “Rick and Tony.” She turned to Evan. “Were they getting on your case?”

  “Well …” Evan started hesitantly.

  “We were welcoming him to the neighborhood,” the one named Rick said, grinning at his brother.

  Tony started to add something, but Andy interrupted. “Well, leave him alone.”

  “Are you his mother?” Tony asked, snickering. He turned to Evan and made goo-goo baby noises.

  “We’ll leave him alone,” Rick said, stepping toward Andy. “We’ll borrow your bike and leave him alone.”

  “No way,” Andy said heatedly.

  But before Andy could move, Rick grabbed the handlebars. “Let go!” Andy cried, trying to pull the bike from his grasp.

  Rick held tight. Tony shoved Andy hard.

  She lost her balance and fell, and the bike toppled over on top of her.

  “Ohhh.”

  Andy uttered a low cry as she hit her head on the concrete curb. She lay sprawled on the curb, her hands flailing, the bike on top of her.

  Before she could get up, Tony reached down and grabbed the bike away. He swung his legs over the seat and began to pedal furiously. “Wait up!” his brother called, laughing as he ran alongside.

  In seconds, the twins had disappeared around the corner with Andy’s bike.

  “Andy — are you okay?” Evan cried, hurrying to the curb. “Are you okay?”

  He grabbed Andy’s hand and pulled her to her feet. She stood up groggily, rubbing the back of her head. “I hate those creeps,” she said. She brushed the dirt and grass off her shorts and legs. “Ow. That hurt.”

  “Who are they?” Evan asked.

  “The Beymer twins,” she answered, making a disgusted face. “Real heavy-duty dudes,” she added sarcastically. She checked her leg to see if it was cut. It was just scraped. “They think they’re so cool, but they’re total creeps.”

  “What about your bike? Should we call the police or something?” Evan asked.

  “No need,” she said quietly, brushing back her dark hair. “I’ll get it back. They’ve done this before. They’ll leave it somewhere when they’re finished.”

  “But shouldn’t we —” Evan started.

  “They just run wild,” Andy interrupted. “There’s no one home to check up on them. They live with their grandmother, but she’s never around. Did they give you a hard time?”

  Evan nodded. “I was afraid I was going to have to pound them,” he joked.

  Andy didn’t laugh. “I’d like to pound them,” she said angrily. “Just once. I’d like to pay them back. They pick on all the kids in the neighborhood. They think they can do whatever they want because they’re so big and because there are two of them.”

  “Your knee is cut,” Evan said, pointing.

  “I’d better go home and clean it up,” she replied, rolling her eyes disgustedly. “See you later, okay? I have to go somewhere this afternoon, but maybe we can do something tomorrow.”

  She headed back to her house, rubbing the back of her head.

  Evan returned to Kathryn’s, walking slowly, thinking about the Beymer twins, daydreaming about fighting them, imagining himself beating them to a pulp in a fight as Andy watched, cheering him on.

  Kathryn was dusting the front room as Evan entered. She didn’t look up. He headed quickly up the stairs to his room.

  Now what am I going to do? he wondered, pacing back and forth. The blue container of Monster Blood caught his eye. He walked over to the bookshelf and picked up the can from the middle shelf.

  He pulled off the lid. The can was nearly full.

  I guess Trigger didn’t eat that much, he thought, feeling a little relieved.

  Trigger!

  He’d forgotten all about him. The poor dog must be hungry.

  Putting down the Monster Blood, Evan bombed down the stairs, leaning against the banister and taking the stairs three at a time. Then, running full-out, he practically flew to the dog run at the back of the yard.

  “Trigger! Hey — Trigger!” he called.

  Halfway across the backyard, Evan could see that something was wrong.

  Trigger’s eyes were bulging. His mouth was wide open, his tongue flailing rapidly from side to side, white spittle running down his chin hair onto the ground.

  “Trigger!”

  The dog was gasping hoarsely, each breath a desperate, difficult struggle.

  He’s choking! Evan realized.

  As Evan reached the dog run, Trigger’s eyes rolled back, and the dog’s legs collapsed under him, his stomach still heaving, the air filled with his loud, hideous gasps.

  11

  “Trigger — no!”

  Evan dived to his knees beside the dog and began to tug at Trigger’s collar. The collar, Evan saw, had become way too tight.

  The dog’s chest heaved. Thick white spittle flowed from his open mouth.

  “Hold on, boy. Hold on!” Evan cried.

  The dog’s eyes rolled wildly in his head. He didn’t seem to see or hear Evan.

  “Hold on, fella! Just hold on!”

  The collar wouldn’t budge. It was buried tightly under the dog’s fur.

  His hands shaking, Evan struggled to pull the collar over Trigger’s head.

  Come loose, come loose, come loose, he begged.

  Yes!

  Trigger uttered a pained whimper as Evan finally managed to pull the collar away.

  “Trigger — it’s off! Are you okay?”

  Still panting hard, the dog jumped immediately to his feet. He licked Evan’s face appreciatively, covering Evan’s cheek with his thick saliva, whimpering as if he understood that Evan had just saved his life.

  “Easy, boy! Easy, fella!” Evan repeated, but the dog continued to lick him gratefully.

  Evan hugged the excited dog. This had been a close call, he knew. If he hadn’t come along just then …

  Well, he didn’t want to think about it.

  When Trigger finally calmed down, Evan examined the collar. “What made this collar shrink like that, boy?” he asked Trigger.

  The dog had walked over to t
he fence and was frantically slurping water from his bowl.

  This is plain weird, Evan thought. The collar couldn’t have shrunk. It’s made of leather. There was no reason for it to shrink.

  Then why did it suddenly start choking Trigger?

  Evan turned to Trigger, studying him as the dog lapped greedily at the water, breathing hard. He turned and glanced back at Evan for a second, then returned to his frantic water slurping.

  He’s bigger, Evan decided.

  He’s definitely bigger.

  But Trigger was twelve years old, eighty-four in human years. Older than Aunt Kathryn.

  Trigger was too old for a late growth spurt.

  It must be my eyes, Evan decided, tossing the collar to the ground. This place must be making me see things.

  Kathryn was at the kitchen door, calling Evan to lunch. He poured out a bowl of dry food, shouted good-bye to Trigger, who didn’t look up from the water dish, and hurried to the house.

  The next morning, an overcast morning with an autumn chill in the air, Evan made his way to Andy’s house. He found her huddled under a big maple tree in the neighbor’s front yard. “What’s going on?” he called.

  Then he saw that she was leaning over something, her hands working quickly. “Come help me!” she cried, not looking up.

  Evan came jogging over. “Whoa!” he cried out when he saw that Andy was struggling to free a calico cat that had been tied to the tree trunk.

  The cat screeched and swiped its paw at Andy. Andy dodged the claws and continued to pull at the big knots in the rope.

  “The Beymer twins did this, I know it,” she said loudly, over the shrilly protesting cat. “This poor cat was probably tied up here all night.”

  The cat, in a panic, shrieked with amazingly human-sounding cries.

  “Stand still, cat,” Evan said as the terrified cat swiped its claws at Andy again. “Can I help?”

  “No. I’ve almost got it,” she replied, tugging at the knot. “I’d like to tie Rick and Tony to this tree.”

  “Poor frightened cat,” Evan said quietly.

  “There,” Andy said triumphantly, pulling the rope loose.

  The cat gave one last cry of protest, its tail standing straight up. Then it darted away, running at full speed, and disappeared under a tall hedge without looking back.

  “Not very polite,” Evan muttered.

  Andy stood up and sighed. She was wearing faded denim jeans and a pale green oversized T-shirt that came down nearly to her knees. She lifted the bottom of the shirt to examine a hole the cat managed to snag in it.

  “I can’t believe those two creeps,” she said, shaking her head.

  “Maybe we should call the police or the ASPCA or something,” Evan suggested.

  “The twins would just deny it,” Andy said glumly, shaking her head. Then she added, “And the cat’s not a very good witness.”

  They both laughed.

  Evan led the way back to his aunt’s house. All the way back, they talked about how they’d like to teach the Beymer twins a lesson. But neither of them had any good ideas.

  They found Kathryn concentrating on a jigsaw puzzle at the dining room table.

  She looked up when they entered, squinting at them. “You like jigsaw puzzles? I like to keep my mind active, you know. That’s why I like puzzles. Your mind can get flabby when you get to be my age. A hundred and twelve.”

  She slapped the table gleefully at her own wit. Evan and Andy both flashed her agreeable smiles. Then she returned to her puzzle without waiting for a reply.

  “She’s going to drive me bananas!” Evan exclaimed.

  “Evan — she’ll hear you!” Andy protested, cupping a hand over his mouth.

  “I told you, she’s completely deaf. She can’t hear me. She doesn’t want to hear anyone. She hates everyone.”

  “I think she’s sweet,” Andy said. “Why does she wear a bone around her neck?”

  “Probably thinks it’s cool,” Evan cracked.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” Andy urged, pushing him toward the stairs. “I still feel weird talking about your aunt right in front of her.”

  “You’re a crazy old coot,” Evan called to Kathryn, a big smile on his face.

  Kathryn looked up from her puzzle pieces to cast a cold stare his way.

  “She heard you!” Andy cried, horrified.

  “Don’t be dumb,” Evan said, and started up the stairs, nearly tripping over Sarabeth.

  Up in Evan’s room, Andy paced uncomfortably. “What do you want to do?”

  “Well … we could read some of these great books,” Evan said sarcastically, pointing to the dusty old books that lined the walls. “Maybe find a spell to cast on the Beymer twins. You know. Turn them into newts.”

  “Forget about newts,” Andy said dryly. “Hey — where’s the Monster Blood?” Before Evan could answer, she spotted it on one of the shelves.

  They raced across the room for it. Andy got there first and grabbed the can. “Evan — look,” she said, her eyes growing wide with surprise. “What’s going on?”

  She held up the can. The green gunk had pushed up the lid and was flowing out of the can.

  12

  “Huh? Did the top break or something?” Evan asked.

  He took the can from her and examined it. Sure enough, the lid had popped off. The gooey green substance was pushing up out of the can.

  Evan pulled out a handful of the green gunk. “Weird,” he exclaimed. “It’s expanding,” he said, squeezing it in his hand. “It’s definitely growing.”

  “I guess so!” Andy exclaimed. “It grew right out of the can!”

  “Hey — it’s not cold anymore,” Evan said. He balled it up and tossed it to Andy.

  “It’s really warm,” she agreed. “Weird!”

  She tried to toss it back to him, but it stuck to her palm. “It’s getting sticky,” she reported. “Are you sure this is the same stuff?”

  “Of course,” Evan replied.

  “But it wasn’t sticky before, remember?” she said.

  He pulled another warm hunk of it from the can.

  “I guess it just changes after the can has been opened.”

  He squeezed the stuff into a ball shape and tossed it to the floor. “Look — it stuck to the floor. It didn’t bounce.”

  “Weird!” Andy repeated.

  “Maybe I should throw it in the trash,” Evan said, prying the sticky glob from the floor. “I mean, what good is it if it doesn’t bounce?”

  “Hey — no way,” Andy said. “We’ve got to see what it does next.”

  A soft mewing sound made them both turn toward the door.

  Evan was surprised to see Sarabeth standing there, her head cocked, her yellow eyes staring at him.

  Or was she staring at the glob of Monster Blood in his hand?

  “That cat looks so intelligent,” Andy said.

  “It’s as stupid as every other cat,” Evan muttered. “Look. She wants to play ball with the Monster Blood.”

  “Sorry, cat,” Andy said. “It doesn’t bounce.”

  As if she understood, Sarabeth mewed unhappily, turned, and padded silently from the room.

  “Now where am I going to keep this stuff?” Evan asked. “It’s too big for its can.”

  “Here. How about this?” Andy asked. She reached down to a low shelf and came up with an empty coffee can.

  “Yeah. Okay.” Evan tossed his hunk into the coffee can.

  Andy squeezed hers into a flat pancake. “Look. It isn’t glowing the way it used to, either,” she said, holding the pancake up for Evan to see. “But it sure is warm. Almost hot.”

  “It’s alive!” Evan screamed playfully. “Run for your life! It’s alive!”

  Andy laughed and began to chase Evan, menacing him with the flat green pancake. “Come get your Monster Blood! Come and get it!”

  He dodged away, then grabbed it from her hand. He squeezed it together, balling it up in one hand, then tossed it into the
coffee can.

  They both peered into the can. The green substance filled it up a little more than halfway.

  “Go ahead. Taste it,” Andy urged, poking the can in his face. “I dare you.”

  “Huh? No way. I double-dare you,” Evan said, pushing the coffee can back to her.

  “Double-darers have to go first,” Andy insisted, grinning. “Go ahead. Taste it.”

  Evan made a disgusted face and shook his head. Then he grabbed a big hunk of it and heaved it at Andy. Laughing, she picked it up off the carpet and tossed it at his face. She threw high, and the green glob stuck to the wall.

  Evan reached for another hunk.

  They had a messy, hilarious Monster Blood battle until dinnertime. Then, as they tried to clean up, they both heard Trigger through the open window. He was barking loudly out in his pen.

  Evan reached the window first. The sky was still gray and overcast. Trigger was leaning on the wooden fence, standing on his hind legs, barking his head off.

  “Whoa, Trigger,” Evan called, “chill out!”

  “Hey — what’s with Trigger?” Andy asked. “Is your dog still growing? He looks so big!”

  Evan’s mouth dropped open and he uttered a silent gasp, realizing that Andy was right.

  Trigger had nearly doubled in size.

  13

  “Trigger — come back! Come back!”

  The big dog continued to run, its giant paws thundering against the concrete.

  “Come back!” Evan screamed, running with long, desperate strides, his heart thudding, his legs aching with each step as he tried to catch up with the galloping dog.

  The night was dark and starless. The street glistened as if it had recently rained.

  Trigger’s paws hit the pavement, each step a loud thunderclap that seemed to echo forever. His giant ears flapped like wings, twin pennants caught on the wind. His big head bobbed up and down, but he didn’t look back.

  “Trigger! Trigger!”

  Evan’s voice seemed muffled by the gusting wind, pushed back in his face. He tried shouting louder, but no sound came out at all.

  He knew he had to stop the dog from running away. He had to catch the dog and then get help.