50 - Calling All Creeps! by R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead)

 
 
1
     
     
    At a little after eight o’clock at night, I tiptoed from my bedroom and crept
as silently as I could down the stairs. Three steps from the bottom, I tripped
over a stack of laundry—and fell headfirst the rest of the way.
    I landed hard on my elbows and knees, but I didn’t make a sound. I’m used to
falling. I do it all the time.
    I jumped quickly to my feet and peeked into the front hallway. Had Mom and
Dad heard me?
    They had the TV on in the den. They were watching the Weather Channel. They
can watch the Weather Channel for hours.
    What’s so interesting about the weather?
    I could hear the woman on TV talking about the wind chill in Nova Scotia. I
pulled on my blue down parka and made my way silently to the front door.
    A few seconds later, I was outside, jogging along the sidewalk. I kept in the shadows, ducked my head low—and headed
for school.
    Don’t get the wrong idea about me. I don’t usually sneak out of the house at
night. I’m not a problem child or anything. In fact, my parents are always
telling me to be braver, to be more adventurous.
    I never go out without telling my parents where I’m going. But tonight was a
special night. Tonight I had a special mission.
    The mission was spelled r-e-v-e-n-g-e.
    I slipped as I reached the corner and had to grab a lamppost to keep myself
from falling. Most of the snow from the weekend had melted. But there were still
slick patches of ice on the sidewalk.
    I hadn’t bothered to zip up my parka. The wind blew it behind me as I jogged
across the street and past the small houses on the next block. The air felt cold
against my warm cheeks, and wet, as if it might snow again.
    Hey—enough about the weather!
    Ricky Beamer—that’s me—had more important things on his mind tonight.
Tonight I planned to do a little spying. And then a little nasty mischief.
    A few minutes later, I made my way across the deserted playground next to the
school. Harding Middle School. That’s what the sign beside the bare flagpole
read. Except that someone had spray-painted over all the first letters. So the sign actually read:
ARDING IDDLE CHOOL.
    We have a lot of school pride here at Harding.
    Actually, most kids like the school. It’s really new and everything is modern
and clean.
    I’d like our school too—if the kids would give me a break. If they’d all
get out of my face and stop calling me Ricky Rat and Sicky Ricky, I’d be a real
happy guy.
    Maybe you think I sound a little bitter.
    Maybe you’re right!
    But all the kids think I’m a nerd. They make fun of me every chance they get.
    I stared at the school building. It’s kind of low and flat and curves around
like a snake. The elementary school is at one end, and the middle school is at
the other. I’m in sixth grade, so my classroom is right in the middle.
    A spotlight shone down on the bare flagpole in front of the building. Behind
it, most of the classrooms were dark. I saw lighted windows at the eighth-grade
end—and that’s where I headed.
    A car rumbled past slowly. Its headlights washed over the front of the
building. I ducked behind a tall evergreen bush. I didn’t want to be seen.
    In my rush to hide, I stumbled into the bush. A clump of cold, wet snow
plopped onto my head. With a shiver, I shook my wavy black hair to toss it off.
    When the car had passed, I crept up to the lighted classroom window. My
sneakers made squishing sounds in the soft ground. I glanced down. I had stepped
into a deep, muddy rut.
    Ignoring the mud, I leaned against the low window ledge and pressed my face
to the glass. Were the lights on because the night janitor was cleaning in
there? Or was Tasha McClain hard at work?
    Tasha McClain. Just saying her name made my teeth itch!
    The windowpane was steamed up. I squinted through the glass. Yes! Tasha sat
at the desk against the wall. She leaned over her computer, typing away. Her
long, curly red hair fell over the keyboard as she typed with two