35 - A Shocker on Shock Street (4 page)

The tram started to back out. I settled down into the seat. I watched the two
rows of evergreen bushes fade into the distance.

Down the long, sloping hill, I could see the white studio buildings. I
wondered if they were making a movie on one of the soundstages. I wondered if
the tram would take us to watch them shoot.

I could see two golf carts moving along the road.

They were carrying people down to the sound-stage buildings.

The sun still struggled to shine through the fog. The tram bounced over the
grass, up the hill.

“Whoa!” I cried out as we turned sharply and headed back toward the trees.

“Please remain in the car at all times.” A woman’s voice burst from a speaker
in the tram car. “Your next stop will be The Cave of The Living Creeps.”

“The Cave of The Living Creeps? Wow! That sounds scary!” Marty exclaimed.

“Sure does!” I agreed.

We had no idea just how scary it would turn out to be.

The tram zigzagged its way through the trees. Their shadows rolled over us
like dark ghosts.

We moved so silently. I tried to imagine what the ride would be like if the
tram was packed with excited kids and adults. I decided it would be a lot less
scary with a crowd.

But I wasn’t complaining. Marty and I were really lucky to be the first kids
ever to try out this ride.

“Wow!” Marty grabbed my arm as The Cave of The Living Creeps loomed in front
of us. The mouth of the cave was a huge dark hole, cut into the side of the
hill. I could see pale, silvery light flickering past the entrance.

The tram slowed down as we approached the dark opening. A sign above the
entrance had one word carved roughly into it: FAREWELL.

The tramcar lurched forward. “Hey—!” I cried out and ducked my head. What a
tight squeeze!

Into the dim, flickering light.

The air instantly grew colder. And damp. A sour, earthy smell rose to my
nostrils, making me gasp.

“Bats!” Marty whispered. “What do you think, Erin? Think there are bats in
here?” He leaned close and let out an evil laugh in my ear.

Marty
knows
that I hate bats!

I know, I know. Bats aren’t really evil creatures. And they aren’t dangerous.
Bats eat mosquitoes and other insects. And they don’t attack people or get
tangled in your hair or try to suck your blood. That’s only in movies.

I know all that. But I don’t care.

Bats are ugly and creepy and disgusting. And I hate them.

One day, I told Marty how much I hate bats. And so he’s been teasing me about
them ever since.

The tram moved deeper into the cave. The air grew colder. The sour aroma
nearly choked me.

“Look—over there!” Marty screamed. “A vampire bat!”

“Huh? Where?” I couldn’t help myself. I cried out in alarm.

Of course it was one of Marty’s dumb jokes. He laughed like a maniac.

I growled at him and punched him hard on the shoulder. “You’re not funny.
You’re just dumb.”

That made him giggle even harder. “I’ll bet there
are
bats in this cave,” he insisted. “You can’t go into a deep,
dark cave like this one without seeing bats.”

I turned away from his grinning face and listened hard. I was listening for
fluttering bat wings. I didn’t hear any.

The cave narrowed. The walls seemed to close in on us. The side of the car
scraped against the dirt wall. I could feel that we were heading down.

In the dim, silvery light, I saw a long row of pointy icicle-type things
hanging down from the cave ceiling. I know they have a name, but I can never
remember which one it is—stalagmites or stalactites.

I ducked my head again as the tram shot under them. Up close, they looked
like pointed elephant tusks.

“We’re getting closer to the bats!” Marty teased.

I ignored him. I kept my eyes straight ahead. The cave grew wide again. Dark
shadows shifted and danced over the walls as we rolled past.

“Ohhh.” I uttered a groan as I felt something cold and slimy drop onto the
back of my neck.

I jerked away and turned sharply to Marty. “Cut it out!” I snapped. “Get your
cold hands off me!”

“Who—me?”

He wasn’t touching me. Both of his hands gripped the front of the car.

Then
what
was on the back of my neck? So cold and wet. Icy wet. I
shuddered. My whole body shook.

“M-Marty!” I stammered. “H-help!”

Marty stared at me, confused. “Erin—what’s your problem?”

“The back of my neck—” I choked out.

I could feel the cold, wet thing start to move. I decided not to wait for
Marty to help me.

I reached back and pulled it off. It felt sticky and cold between my fingers.
It slithered and wriggled, and I dropped it on the seat.

A worm!

A huge, long white worm. So cold, so wet and cold.

“Weird!” Marty exclaimed. He leaned close to examine it. “I’ve never seen a
worm that big! And it’s white.”

“It—it dropped from the ceiling,” I said, watching it wiggle next to me.
“It’s ice-cold.”

“Huh? Let me touch it,” Marty said. He raised his hand and slowly lowered his
pointer finger to the worm.

His finger poked the worm in its middle.

And then Marty opened his mouth in a scream of horror that echoed through the
cave.

“What is it? Marty—what’s
wrong
?” I shrieked.

“I—I—I—” He couldn’t speak. He could only utter, “I—I—I—!” His
eyes bulged. His tongue flopped out.

He reached up and pulled a white worm off the top of his head. “I—I—I got
one too!”

“Yuck!” I cried. His worm was nearly as long as a shoelace!

We both tossed our worms out of the tram.

But then I felt a soft, damp
plop
on my shoulder. And then a cold
plop
on top of my head. Another on my forehead, like a cold slap.

“Ohhh—help!” I moaned. I started thrashing my arms, grabbing at the worms,
struggling to pull them off me.

“Marty—please!” I turned to him for help.

But he was battling them, too. Twisting and ducking. Trying to dodge, as more
and more white worms fell from the ceiling.

I saw one fall on his shoulder. I saw another one begin to wrap itself around
his ear.

As fast as I could, I pulled the sticky, wet creatures off me and tossed them
over the side of the slow-rolling tram.

Where are they coming from? I wondered.

I glanced up—and a fat, wet one fell over my eyes.

“Yeowwww!” I let out a shriek, grabbed it, flung it away.

The tram turned sharply, sending us both sliding over the seat. The cave
narrowed again as we entered a different tunnel. The silvery light glowed dimly
around us as we bounced forward.

Two white worms, each at least a foot long, wriggled across my lap. I tugged
them off and heaved them over the tram.

Breathing hard, I searched for more. My whole body itched. The back of my
neck tingled. I couldn’t stop shaking.

“They stopped falling,” Marty announced in a shaky voice.

Then why did I still itch?

I rubbed the back of my neck. Stood up and searched the seat, then the floor.
I found one last worm, climbing over my shoe. I kicked it away, then dropped
back onto the seat with a loud sigh.

“That was totally gross!” I wailed.

Marty scratched his chest, then rubbed his face with both hands. “I guess that’s why they call it The Cave of The Living
Creeps,” he said. He swept a hand back through his black hair.

I shivered. I couldn’t stop itching. I knew the worms were gone, but I could
still feel them. “Those disgusting white worms—do you think they were alive?”

Marty shook his head. “Of course not. They were fakes.” He snickered. “I
guess they fooled you, huh?”

“They sure felt real,” I replied. “And the way they wriggled around—”

“They were robots or something,” Marty said, scratching his knees.
“Everything here is fake. It has to be.”

“I’m not so sure,” I said, my whole body still itchy and tingling.

“Well, just ask your father,” Marty replied grumpily.

I had to laugh. I knew why Marty was suddenly so grouchy. Whether the worms
were real or fake, they had scared him. And he knew that I knew that he had been
frightened.

“I don’t think
little
kids will like the worms,” Marty said. “I think
they’ll get too scared. I’m going to tell that to your dad.”

I started to reply—and felt something drop over me. Something scratchy and
dry.

It covered my face, my shoulders—my entire body.

I shot both hands up and tried to push it away. It’s some kind of a net, I
thought.

I grabbed at it, desperate to get it off my face. As I struggled, I turned
and saw Marty squirming and batting his arms, caught under the same net.

The tram bounced through the dim cave tunnel. The sticky net felt like cotton
candy on my skin.

Marty let out a yelp. “It—it’s a big spider-web!” he stammered.

I tugged and grabbed and pulled. But the sticky threads clung to my face, my
arms, and my clothes. “Yuck! This is so gross!” I choked out.

And then I saw the black dots scurrying through the net. It took me a few
seconds to realize what they were. Spiders! Hundreds of them!

“Ohhhh.” A low moan escaped my throat.

I batted the spiderweb with both hands. I rubbed my cheeks frantically,
trying to scrape away the sticky threads. I pulled a spider off my forehead.
Another one off the shoulder of my T-shirt.

“The spiders—they’re in my hair!” Marty wailed.

He suddenly forgot about acting cool. He began raking his hair with both
hands, slapping himself in the head, pinching and swiping at the spiders.

As the tram rolled silently on, we both twisted and squirmed, struggling to
flick away the black spiders. I pulled three of them out of my hair. Then I felt
one climb into my nose!

I opened my mouth in a horrified scream—and
sneezed
it out.

Marty plucked a spider off my neck and sent it soaring through the air. The
last spider. I couldn’t see—or feel—any more.

We both dropped down in the seat, breathing hard. My heart pounded in my
chest. “Still think everything is a fake?” I asked Marty, my voice weak and
small.

“I—I don’t know,” he replied softly. “The spiders could be puppets maybe.
You know. Radio-controlled.”

“They were
real
!” I cried sharply. “Face it, Marty—they were real!
This is The Cave of The Living Creeps—and they were
living
!”

Marty’s eyes grew wide. “You really think so?”

I nodded. “They had to be real spiders.”

A smile spread over Marty’s face. “That’s so
cool
!” he declared. “Real
spiders! That is totally cool!”

I let out a long sigh and slumped lower in the seat. I didn’t think it was
cool at all. I thought it was creepy and disgusting.

These rides are supposed to be
fake.
That’s what makes them fun. I
decided to tell my dad that the worms and spiders were too scary. He should get
rid of them before the studio tour opens to the public.

I crossed my arms in front of me and kept my eyes straight ahead. I wondered what we would run into next. I hoped there
weren’t any other disgusting insects waiting to fall on us and climb all over
our faces and bodies.

“I think I hear the bats!” Marty teased. He leaned close to me, grinning.
“Hear those fluttering sounds? Giant vampire bats!”

I shoved him back to his side of the seat. I wasn’t in any mood for his
joking around.

“When do we get out of this cave?” I asked impatiently. “This isn’t any fun.”

“I think it’s cool,” Marty repeated. “I like exploring caves.”

The narrow tunnel opened into a wide cavern. The ceiling appeared to be a
mile high. There were giant rocks scattered over the cavern floor. Rocks piled
on rocks. Rocks everywhere.

Somewhere ahead of us, I heard water dripping.
Plunk plunk plunk.

Eerie green light glowed from the cave walls. The tram pulled up to the back
wall—and then stopped.

“Now what?” I whispered.

Marty and I turned in our seat, letting our eyes explore the huge cavern. All
I could see were rocks. Smooth rocks, some round, some square.

Plunk plunk plunk.
Water dripped somewhere to our right. The air felt
cold and damp.

“This is kind of boring,” Marty murmured. “When do we get going?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Why did we stop here? It’s just a big empty cave.”

We waited for the tram to back up and take us out of there.

And waited.

A minute went by. Then another few minutes.

We both turned around and got up on our knees, peering to the back of the
tram. Nothing moved. We listened to the steady drip of water, echoing off the
high stone walls. No other sound.

Leaning forward against the seatback, I cupped my hands around my mouth and
shouted. “Hey—can anybody hear us?”

I waited, listening. No reply.

“Can anybody hear us?” I tried again. “I think we’re stuck here!”

No reply. Just the steady
drip drip drip.

I waited, squinting hard into the glow of green light.

Why wouldn’t the tram get moving? Had it broken down? Were we really stuck
here?

I turned to Marty. “What’s up with this tram? Do you think we’re—HEY!”

I gasped as I stared at the empty seat beside me.

I reached both hands out. I grabbed for Marty.

Another lighting trick? Another optical illusion?

“Marty? Hey—Marty?” I croaked.

A cold shiver rolled down my back.

This time Marty was really gone.

“Marty—?”

A scraping sound beside the tram made me jump.

I spun around and saw Marty grinning at me from the cave floor. “Gotcha.”