Bad Dreams by R.L. Stine Page A

wall. Her hand touched something wet and slimy.
    And then she heard dry fluttering overhead, like hundreds of tiny umbrellas opening all at once.
    Something brushed her face. Something furry. She screamed!
    â€œHelp me! Somebody—help me! Get me out! Out of here!”
    The tunnel vibrated with the sound of a thousand flapping wings.
    The footsteps crunched closer.
    Screaming for help, Maggie ran into another cold, wet wall.
    A dead end.
    I’m trapped, she realized.

chapter

19
    M aggie pressed her back up against the wall as if she could push her way through the rock.
    The footsteps pounded closer.
    Overcome with terror, she collapsed to her knees.
    She listened hard, too frightened to move. Any second, she knew, her attacker would appear and the knife would come down out of the darkness.
    Now!
    Or—
    Now!
    But nothing happened.
    Breathing hard, her side aching, she climbed back to her feet.
    The dream is real, she thought again. And my life is the dream.
    Then she heard the footsteps again, very close. She pressed back helplessly against the rock.
    The footsteps stopped. A flash of light.
    The knife?
    No. A flashlight played over her face.
    â€œMags?” A boy’s voice, unsteady, muffled in the heavy wet air.
    The flashlight burned into her eyes.
    â€œHey, are you okay?”
    She felt a strong hand grab her arm, pull her to her feet.
    â€œJustin?”
    â€œMaggie—why did you run?” he asked breathlessly, still holding her arm. “I came searching for you. I called your name.”
    â€œI didn’t hear. I only heard your footsteps,” Maggie said, still trembling.
    â€œEveryone is outside, waiting at the bus,” he told her. “You were missing, so…”
    â€œI got lost,” she told him, leaning against him.
    â€œYeah, well, everyone’s real worried about you,” Justin said. “Let’s get out of here.”
    She held on to him as he led the way out of the tunnel. Maggie heard the flap of bats’ wings. She held her breath and kept walking.
    â€œI—I thought you were the killer,” she blurted out.
    â€œWhat killer?”
    â€œFrom my dream.”
    She instantly regretted telling him. She could feel his muscles tighten.
    His expression hardened. “Maggie, I hope you’re not starting up with that dream stuff again,” he murmured.
    Maggie stopped near one of the lights mounted inthe slimy cavern wall. The eerie glow of the naked bulb made Justin’s normally handsome face look like a skull. “Sorry,” Maggie whispered.
    They walked the rest of the way out of the cave in silence.
    Maggie strode quickly down the sidewalk. She didn’t really know why she was in such a hurry. There was no reason to rush home.
    One day had passed. She hadn’t seen the ghost again, hadn’t dreamed the dream. But the fear was always with her, there in the creepy old house, there at night in the canopy bed. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, see anyone.
    â€œMaggie!” someone called behind her.
    She picked up her pace, pretending she hadn’t heard.
    â€œHey, Mags! Slow down!” Justin appeared at her side, jogging to keep up. “Slow down! What’s up?”
    Why was he pretending everything was okay between them? He hadn’t said a word to her since the day before in the cave.
    â€œNothing’s up,” she muttered, walking fast.
    â€œAre you okay?” he asked.
    â€œYou mean, am I crazy?” she asked sharply.
    He reacted as if he were stung. He grabbed her shoulder and made her stop. “I saw you weren’t in school this morning. So I was worried.”
    â€œI had a doctor’s appointment,” Maggie said.
    â€œA doctor’s appointment? You sick?”
    â€œSick in the head,” she muttered bitterly.
    â€œYou saw a shrink?”
    She nodded.
    Dr. Brenda Marsh was a soft-spoken, fortyish psychiatrist whom Mrs. Travers had seen a couple of times