No Survivors by R.L. Stine Page B

called out.
    Kids laughed.
    â€œIt isn’t funny. Ray is right,” Mr. Moon said, nodding at Ray.
    The laughter stopped instantly.
    Ray flashed Tristan a thumbs-up. “Tell the truth. Am I a genius or what?”
    â€œThe words lunacy and lunatic come from luna ,” the teacher continued, ignoring Ray.
    â€œSo that means we should call him Mr. Lunatic ,” Ray whispered to Tristan.
    Tristan struggled not to burst out laughing.
    â€œSomething funny?” Mr. Moon asked. He leaned over Tristan, the pointer raised.
    â€œNot really,” Tristan replied. “Just Ray’s face.”
    That got a big laugh from everyone but Ray.
    â€œLet’s try to keep on the subject,” Mr. Moon said softly. He kept his gaze on Tristan. “We were talking about the word lunatic . People who howled at the moon were called lunatics . As the years went by, lots of other legends grew about the full moon.”
    He turned to the rest of the class. “Do you know any legends about the full moon?”
    A girl named Kim-Lee raised her hand.
    â€œDon’t they say that more crimes happen on the nights of the full moon?” she asked. “You know. Robberies and murders and everything?”
    Mr. Moon nodded. “Yes. Police report that theirbusiest nights are full moon nights. Many more crimes are committed. Any others?”
    Silence. Then Kim-Lee raised her hand again. “And doesn’t the moon control the ocean waves?”
    â€œWell, the pull of the moon is said to affect the ocean tides,” Mr. Moon replied.
    Tristan raised his hand. “What about werewolves?” he asked. “People change into werewolves when the full moon is at its highest, right?”
    â€œMy hands!” Ray cried. “Wow. Check it out! My hands! They’re growing fur!” He opened his mouth in a long, loud wolf howl.
    â€œOWOOOOOOOO!”
    The class erupted in laughter. Everyone laughed.
    Everyone but Mr. Moon.
    He was staring at Tristan. Studying Tristan. Staring so hard, it made Tristan shiver.
    Â 
    â€œLet’s test the window bars one more time,” Mr. Moon said after dinner that night.
    A fire crackled in the fireplace. The old windows rattled and shook in the gusting October winds outside.
    Angela sighed. “We’ve already tested them a dozen times,” she said.
    â€œWell, one more time won’t hurt—will it?” the teacher said eagerly.
    She pushed the red button on the bookshelf. The steel bars slammed into place.
    â€œVery good.” Mr. Moon gleefully clapped his hands. “No way those kids will escape.”
    â€œThe house looks perfect,” Angela said, gazing around. “Do you like the evil-looking jack-o-lanterns with the knives poking through them?”
    â€œA nice touch,” Mr. Moon said. “And I like the eyeballs and the bleeding human fingers tossed here and there. Very real looking.”
    â€œThe old wolf skins are stacked in the front bedroom,” Angela said. She chuckled. “They don’t smell any better this year. I think there are some pretty disgusting things growing in those old skins.”
    Mr. Moon chuckled too. He moved to the table where a bottle of dark liquid stood beside several silver goblets. “Let’s pour out the wolfbane,” he said. “Some of our guests may get a little thirsty.”
    He raised the bottle, and the thick, dark liquid began to ooze into the silver cups.
    A smile spread over his face. “Well, Angela,” he said softly, “I think we’re going to trap some werewolves this year.”

About the Author
    R.L. STINE says he has a great job. “My job is to give kids the CREEPS!” With his scary books, R.L. has terrified kids all over the world. He has sold over 300 million books, making him the best-selling children’s author in history.
    These days, R.L. is dishing out new frights in his series THE NIGHTMARE ROOM. When he isn’t