Don't Scream!

by R. L. Stine

  I thought about it. It could make sense.

  “I have to remove the SIM card. And try to find the second receiver and speaker and remove them. Then the girl will be cut off. She will lose her connection. And the phone should act like a normal phone.”

  “Genius!” I said. “I’ll go get the tools.”

  I took a few steps toward the stairway. Then I stopped. I turned back to Eli. “No good,” I said.

  I walked back to him. “No way. You can’t take the phone apart,” I whispered.

  He squinted at me. “Why not?”

  “Way too dangerous,” I said.

  “I can handle a screwdriver. I won’t poke myself in the eye or anything.”

  “You don’t get it. She’ll zap you,” I said. “You start to mess with the insides and she’ll electrocute you. Really. I don’t know how, but she can do it. And it’s not a little shock. It’s major pain.”

  Eli stared hard at me. He thought for a moment. “Okay,” he said. “I have another plan.”

  12

  “Get a hammer,” Eli said. “A really big one.”

  I guessed what Eli planned to do. It didn’t take an electronics genius to do what he planned.

  Wow. I hated to lose a really awesome phone. But it seemed like the best way to get rid of the girl.

  I rocketed down to my dad’s workshop in the basement. All of his woodworking tools were neatly hung on the wall above his workbench. Dad is a real neat-freak when it comes to his tools.

  I knew where he kept the sledgehammer. It stood on its head beside one of the tall metal supply cabinets.

  I grabbed the wooden handle and tried to pick it up with one hand. But the thing weighed a ton. I gripped it in both hands and dragged it up the stairs to my room.

  “That should do the job,” Eli said. He lifted the phone off my bed and set it down on top of a big book in the middle of the floor.

  I bent over the phone. The screen was totally black. “Are you still there?” I called into it.

  “I’ll always be here,” the girl replied. “Best friends don’t leave.”

  “You’re not my best friend,” I said. “I don’t think you’re a friend at all.”

  “Time to say bye-bye,” Eli told her. He motioned for me to pick up the sledgehammer.

  I grabbed the handle and swung the hammer high above my shoulder. “WHOOOAAA.” The head was so heavy, I started to stumble back.

  I caught my balance and swung the hammer down on the phone. It hit with a loud crash. Glass shattered. Plastic cracked. Pieces flew everywhere.

  “You crushed it!” Eli cried. “You crushed it!”

  He slapped my shoulder. “Again, dude. Do it one more time.”

  I gazed down at the phone. It was a mangled mess.

  With a groan, I hoisted the big sledgehammer back onto my shoulder. Then I swung it down and smashed the phone again.

  This time I nearly flattened it.

  The screen had totally shattered. Shards of glass glistened on my carpet. I could see a smashed circuit board inside the broken case.

  I was breathing hard. Eli and I just stood there, staring down at the wrecked cell phone. Then we both burst out laughing.

  “What was that about?” Eli cried. “Who was that girl?”

  “She’s history,” I said. We laughed some more.

  Eli shook his head. “I hope the owner of the phone doesn’t come looking for it.”

  That made us laugh more. I felt kind of crazy. I guess it was because that girl was gone.

  “She was scary,” I said.

  “Wonder what she looks like,” Eli said, scratching his head. “I wonder who she is. She could be our age. I couldn’t tell from her voice. Do you think it’s someone from school?”

  “We definitely don’t know her,” I said. “She had to be a stranger. Playing a weird joke. I’m just glad it’s over.”

  Eli pulled the game-player from his pocket. He tapped the screen. “Dude, you’ve got to see this new game. It’s called Ancient Cincinnati. It takes place in Cincinnati, like, five thousand years ago. And there are these ancient warriors fighting on the Ohio River. It’s wild.”

  He squinted at the screen. Then he shook the game-player.

  “Weird,” he muttered. “I didn’t turn it off. But it’s not booting up.”

  “Try again,” I said.

  He pushed some more buttons.

  “Did you try to hurt me?”

  Eli and I both gasped. The girl’s voice.

  “Where is she?” I cried.

  “It … it came out of my game-player!” Eli said.

  “Did you try to hurt me?” she asked again. “That was cold, guys.”

  “Where are you?” I asked, staring at the game-player between Eli’s hands. “How — ?”

  “That wasn’t very nice, boys,” she said. “Why are you making me punish you?”

  “P-punish?” Eli stammered.

  ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTT.

  13

  Eli opened his mouth in a scream that drowned out the loud buzz from the game-player.

  He had the player gripped in both hands. As I watched in horror, he began swinging his hands wildly. I realized he was trying to drop the thing.

  “It burns! It BURNS!” he wailed.

  His face was bright red. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head. He swung his hands wildly.

  “OWWWWW! It’s burning HOT!” he shrieked. “I — I can’t drop it! It … won’t …”

  I lurched forward — but stopped. How could I help him? What could I do?

  If I grabbed the game-player and tried to pull it free, I’d burn my hands, too.

  Eli screamed and flailed and thrashed.

  Finally, the game-player dropped to the floor.

  Eli fell to his knees, gasping in pain, frantically waving his hands in the air.

  I gazed down at the game-player. It sizzled and the plastic bubbled wetly. Smoke poured up from it.

  “It … it melted,” I murmured.

  I dropped down beside Eli. He was gasping and wheezing. And he was still waving his hands wildly.

  “G-get some ice,” he stuttered. “My hands are scorched. Totally scorched. Look. Is the skin blistered?”

  I grabbed one hand gently. It was flaming red. But I didn’t see any open blisters. No blood or anything.

  “I’ll be right back,” I told him. “My dad has frozen gel-packs in the freezer. He uses them on his knees after he runs.”

  I stood up. I took a few steps toward the doorway.

  Laughter rang out. The girl’s laughter. Her laugh was cold and sharp as icicles.

  “I warned you guys,” she said. Her voice rose from the melted game-player. “Now maybe you’ll believe I’m here to stay.”

  “Who are you?” I demanded. “How did you move from the phone to the game-player?”

  Eli sat on the floor, blowing on his hands. He shook his head sadly.

  “I don’t have to answer your questions,” the girl replied. “Best friends don’t ask questions.”

  “Stop saying that!” I cried. “I’m not your best friend.”

  “Yes, you are,” she replied in her whispery voice. “You’re my best friend, Jack. And you’re going to help me.”

  “Help you?” I said. “Help you do what?”

  “Okay, I’ll tell you,” she said. “Listen carefully. I —”

  Before she could say another word, my dad strode into the room.

  Dad is a big guy. He played football in college. He was a defensive tackle. He would have made it to the NFL, but his knees were bad.

  He keeps fit. He runs every day and works out on gym equipment in the basement. He has a reddish face and bright blue eyes. His hair is sandy brown, but it’s thinning on top. He jokes that he’s growing his forehead.

  “Hey, Jack,” he said. “I just got home. Time for dinner. Does Eli want to stay?”

  I started to answer.

  But Dad’s eyes stopped on the sizzling game-player on th
e carpet.

  “What’s that mess?” he cried. He stepped closer and gazed down at it. “Eli? What happened to your game-player?”

  “Uh … it kind of blew up,” Eli replied.

  “Those things shouldn’t overheat like that,” Dad said. “That could be very dangerous.”

  Shaking his head, he started to the stairs. “Are you two coming down?” he asked.

  “Coming!” I said. I grabbed Eli. “Let’s go.”

  Eli started to walk with me. Then he turned back to the game-player. “What about her?”

  “Leave her there,” I said. “We’ll figure out something later.”

  “No, you won’t,” she said. “I’ll be here when you get back, Jack. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here forever and ever.”

  14

  I tried to concentrate on my dinner, but I didn’t have much appetite.

  Mom made her famous pot roast, which is Eli’s favorite. But I saw him pushing the food around on his plate just like me.

  Dad was talking about an old friend he met while jogging in the park that morning. Mom kept watching Eli and me. Rachel shoveled pot roast into her mouth.

  “You boys aren’t eating,” she said. “Is something wrong with the pot roast?”

  “No. No way,” we both answered.

  I took a big forkful of meat. I chewed it a long time. It was hard to swallow. I couldn’t stop thinking about the girl in Eli’s game-player. And it made my throat tight.

  “Why do we need a flat screen TV?” I heard Mom ask.

  Dad shrugged his big shoulders. “We are the last family in America not to own one,” he said. “Don’t you want to be able to watch TV in high-def?”

  “No,” Mom said. “What’s the big deal about high-def?”

  Dad sighed. He has always wanted a high-def TV. But Mom wouldn’t let him buy one.

  Mom didn’t care about that stuff at all. She liked to sit in the den, listen to the jazz station on the radio, and read romance novels.

  “Well, I’m going to Volt City after dinner,” Dad said. “They’re having a sale on flat screens.”

  “Can I come?” Rachel asked. She had gravy all over her face.

  “Not tonight,” Dad said. “I need to concentrate on the TVs.”

  Rachel flashed her dimples at him. “Please?”

  “Next time,” Dad said.

  Mom turned to Eli and me. “You’re still not eating. What’s your problem?”

  I decided to tell them the truth. I took a deep breath and started my story.

  “I found a cell phone on the bus this afternoon. …”

  “Did you turn it in to Charlene?” Mom asked.

  “No,” I said. “There was something very strange about it.”

  “Well, where is it?” Dad said. “Let me see it.”

  “I smashed it,” I said.

  Mom gasped. Dad dropped his fork onto the table.

  Rachel laughed. “You’re stupid.”

  “We had to wreck it,” Eli chimed in.

  “You took someone’s cell phone and smashed it?” Dad said.

  This was NOT going well.

  My heart started to pound. Mom and Dad both flashed me hard, cold stares. I felt their eyes shooting through me, like lasers.

  “Someone was talking on it,” I said. “A girl. She was totally weird. I shut down the phone, but she kept talking.”

  “Who was she?” Mom asked.

  “We don’t know,” Eli said. “A stranger.”

  “But she knew my name,” I added.

  Dad rubbed his big forehead. “Let me get this straight,” he said. “A girl was talking on the phone, and she knew your name. You tried to turn the phone off, but —”

  “No. I did turn the phone off,” I interrupted.

  “Then how could she keep talking?” Dad asked.

  “That’s what was so freaky,” I said.

  “Maybe you just thought you turned the phone off,” Mom said. “Maybe the POWER button was broken, and the phone was still on.”

  “You don’t understand,” I said.

  “We understand that you smashed a phone that doesn’t belong to you,” Dad said.

  “That’s stupid,” Rachel said. Big help.

  “The girl melted my game-player,” Eli chimed in. “And now she’s talking out of it.”

  Mom’s and Dad’s mouths dropped open. They turned to Eli.

  “Oh, I get it,” Dad said. “It’s a joke. You guys are putting us on.”

  Mom frowned. “Joke? How is it funny? I don’t get it.”

  “I don’t get it, either,” Rachel said.

  “Let’s talk about something else,” I mumbled.

  This was going nowhere. It was just going to get me in trouble.

  Dad waved his fork at Eli. “Go get your game-player,” he said. “I want to see it.”

  Eli pushed his chair back and started to get up.

  “I’ll go, too,” I said. I jumped up and followed Eli to the door.

  “It shouldn’t take two people to carry a game-player,” Dad said.

  But we both trotted up to my room. The game-player had stopped sizzling and smoking. I carefully touched the melted plastic with one finger. “It cooled off,” I said.

  Eli picked it up in one hand.

  “Where are you taking me?” the girl asked.

  “N-nowhere,” Eli stammered. “Just downstairs.”

  “Don’t mess with me,” the girl said. “I can hurt you. Remember?”

  “We remember,” I told her. “We’re not going to try to smash you again. My dad —”

  “Put me down,” she ordered. “I need to talk to you.”

  “Not now,” I said. “My dad wants to see the game-player. Talk to him. Maybe he can help you.”

  “Talk to him so he knows Jack and I aren’t lying,” Eli said.

  He carried the game-player downstairs to the kitchen. I followed right behind.

  Mom finished a glass of Diet Coke. The ice cubes rattled in her glass.

  She narrowed her eyes at the blob of black plastic in Eli’s hand. “It’s definitely burned,” she said. “That’s very bad. That could have started a fire.”

  “Let me see it.” Dad took it from Eli’s hand. He rolled it around. He shook it hard. Then he held it up to his ear. “Anyone in there?” he called.

  Silence.

  Dad shook the thing again. “Anyone in there? Speak up. Jack says you’re hiding in the game-player. Are you there?”

  Mom laughed. Eli and I stared hard at the player.

  Come on. Talk to him, I begged silently. Let them know I was telling the truth.

  15

  Dad smacked the game-player against his open palm. “Speak up,” he said. “We can’t hear you.” SMACK. SMACK.

  And then a deafening roar screeched from the player — a wail — higher and shriller than an ambulance siren. It didn’t stop. Rising … rising …

  Dad dropped the player onto the table. We all pressed our hands over our ears.

  I shut my eyes and gritted my teeth from the pain shooting through my head. “It … hurts …” I choked out.

  We were all screaming.

  My head throbbed. It felt as if my skull was bursting apart.

  The shrill siren wail cut off suddenly.

  I gasped at the silence. We all stared at the melted game-player on the table.

  My ears rang. I still had my hands pressed over them tightly.

  Slowly, I lowered my hands to the table. Eli shook his head hard, as if trying to shake off the pain.

  Mom squinted at the game-player, her mouth hanging open. She was breathing hard.

  Dad was the first to speak. “That player is defective,” he said. “It’s dangerous.”

  He pressed his ears with his pointer fingers, trying to clear them. Then he swallowed a few times.

  “It hurts. It hurts real bad,” Rachel wailed. She still had her hands over her ears.

  “We could have gone deaf,” Mom said. “
My ears are still whistling. That was horrible.”

  Dad picked up the game-player and shook it. “Eli, you bought this at Volt City, right? Well, come with Jack and me after dinner. I’m taking this back. I’m going to show it to the manager. He has to give you a new one.”

  Eli didn’t reply to Dad. He was staring at me.

  We both knew what caused the deafening noise. It wasn’t the game-player. It was the girl.

  She had shocked me from the cell phone. Now she had hurt us all from Eli’s game-player. What would she do if we took the game-player to the store? Something even more horrible?

  I could tell Eli and I were having the same frightening thoughts.

  “I … don’t think I can go to the store,” Eli told my dad. “My parents probably won’t —”

  “I’ll call them right now,” Dad said. He jumped to his feet and headed to the kitchen phone. “I don’t want you walking around with that dangerous game-player. The store needs to see it. Maybe the player needs to be recalled.”

  “No. I —” Eli started to protest, but gave up. He knew my dad couldn’t be stopped once he had something in his head.

  Dad started to talk to Eli’s mother. I dragged Eli into the hall. “Maybe this is a good thing,” I whispered.

  He squinted at me from behind his glasses. “Like how?”

  “Like we leave the game-player at the store, and the girl stays there with it,” I said.

  He blinked. “You think?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know,” I said. “But if she’s trapped inside there or something, and we drive it to the store and give it to the store manager … Then it’s his problem — right?”

  “Maybe,” Eli said.

  “It’s worth a try,” I told him. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”

  “She could blow up the car,” Eli said.

  16

  We had a tense ride to the Volt City store. Eli and I sat in the backseat. Eli had the melted game-player on his lap. He held it tensely between his hands. We both stared at it the whole way.

  Dad didn’t ask why we were so quiet. He had the radio cranked up full blast. Dad loves country music. He likes to sing along with it. Especially when I have friends in the car.