Authors: R. L. Stine
Rachel stopped poking the screen and gazed up at me. “Are you
crazy
?” she said. “Who are you talking to?”
“Uh ⦠well ⦔ I couldn't think of an answer.
Rachel pressed the phone to her ear.
No, please â
I begged silently.
Whoever you are, don't zap Rachel
.
Every muscle in my body tensed. I stood, staring hard, waiting for the jolt of electricity.
Rachel scrunched up her face as she listened. Then she lowered the phone and punched the screen with her finger several times.
She listened again. Then she lowered the phone and made a disgusted face. “Your stupid phone is broken, Jack,” she said. “I can't even call my friend Caroline. It's totally busted.”
She tossed the phone onto the bedspread. Then she slid down to the floor. She gave me a punch on the arm as she skipped out of my room.
I waited for her to go running down the stairs. “Are you still there?” I asked the girl.
Silence.
Then the girl finally spoke: “Do you like your sister, Jack?”
“Yes,” I said. “Of course.”
“Then don't let her touch me again!” Her words sent a shudder down my body.
“Why?” I demanded. “What would you
do
to her? Would you hurt her?”
Silence.
“Answer my questions!” I shouted. “Who are you?
Tell
me! What are you doing here?”
The reply came from behind me. “Hey, I didn't call you.
You
called
me
!”
“Huh?” I spun around to find Eli in the doorway.
Eli is a good guy, and he's my best friend. But he does fit the perfect description of a geek.
He's a little chubby, and his clothes always seem to hang on him. He wears cargo khakis with the pockets all filled with junk. And sloppy T-shirts with jokes that aren't funny on the front.
Today's T-shirt was red with a black arrow pointing up, and the words:
I'M WITH BRILLIANT
.
Eli has a round face topped by a nest of black curly hair. He wears square, black-framed glasses, and his nose runs a lot.
I know. He doesn't sound too cool. But the dude is a genius, especially with anything electronic.
“What's up?” he said.
I started to answer, but he wasn't listening to me. He had some kind of portable game-player
between his hands and was punching away on it with both thumbs.
I could hear a steady stream of gunshots, crashes, and explosions. I couldn't see Eli's eyes. His big eyeglasses reflected the flashing light from the game.
I groaned. “Eli, what are you doing?”
He punched the game-player a few more seconds. Then he looked up. “Jack, check this out. The word
awesome
was invented for this.”
He stomped into the room. He wears size twelve sneakers, and he always makes a loud clomping sound when he walks.
He shoved the black game-player into my face. “I'm playing
World of Pain
,” he said. “Check out the new player. It's the Digi-GameFreak4
.
The 3-D version. Do you believe it?”
I squinted down at the screen. Three brown-uniformed soldiers were bayoneting a blue-uniformed soldier. The 3-D was amazing. It looked like you were gazing into a real world.
“3-D without glasses,” Eli gushed. “Best game-player ever?”
“Looks good,” I said. “But â”
“Here. Try it.” He pushed it into my hands. “There are no controls. It goes by finger motion. See?”
He wiped his nose with the sleeve of his T-shirt. His nose always becomes a faucet when he's excited.
I pushed the GameFreak back at him. “Eli, give me a break,” I groaned. “I called you here for a reason.”
His whole face drooped. “Sorry, dude.” He shoved the player into one of his two dozen pockets.
I left the phone on the bed, and I pulled Eli into the hall. I didn't want the girl to hear.
“I'm totally stressed,” I told him. “I â I've got a real problem.”
“You need computer help?” Eli asked. “Did your laptop hard drive crash again?”
I sighed. “No. This is a
real
problem. Like in
real life
.”
Eli scratched his thick, curly hair. When he touched his hair, it bounced like springs. Not like hair.
“I found a phone on the bus,” I said.
He squinted at me. “Is it 5G?”
“Who knows?” I snapped. “It ⦠it doesn't really work as a phone. I mean, I haven't made a call. I â”
He nodded. “You want me to fix it?”
I shook my head. “No. Just give me a chance to tell you about it. Stop interrupting.”
He took two fingers and zipped his lips. Music still chimed from the game-player in his pants pocket.
“I found it on the school bus,” I repeated. “And as soon as I picked it up and held it to my ear, a
strange girl started talking to me in this soft, whispery voice.”
Behind the square glasses, his eyes grew wide. “Really?”
“She knew my name,” I said. “She said we were going to be best, best friends.”
“Cool!” Eli exclaimed.
“Not cool,” I said. “I tried to figure out who she was. But I don't think I know her. She's a total stranger, and she's weird. I tried to get rid of her. I mean, I powered off the phone.”
“And then she was gone?” Eli asked.
“That's what I'm telling you,” I cried. “I powered off the phone, but she was
still there
.”
Eli chuckled. “No way.”
“I'm not making this up,” I said.
“Yes, you are,” he replied, grinning. “What's the joke, dude?”
“No joke, Eli. The girl â”
“I get it,” Eli said. “It's an exploding phone, right? You make up this insane story so I look into the phone, and it blows apart in my hands? I saw that phone in a catalogue.”
I took a deep breath. Eli is a total genius, but sometimes he only listens to himself. He doesn't really hear what I'm saying.
I tried again. “The girl is in the phone, Eli. And she won't go away. She says she's going to be my friend
forever
.”
He raised his eyes to me. He studied me for a long while. “You're serious. You're totally serious.”
I nodded. “Just before you came, she shocked me. She sent some kind of horrible shock right through the phone. She says she can hurt me. She says she'll hurt Rachel.”
Eli bit his bottom lip. He kept staring hard at me. “Crazy,” he muttered.
I think he finally believed me.
He stepped back into my room and picked up the phone.
“Go away, Eli,” the girl spoke up.
“YAAAAAIII.” Eli uttered a cry of surprise. The phone started to fall out of his hand. He caught it before it hit the floor.
“Did you hear me, Eli?” the girl said. She sounded cold, angry. “Go away.”
“Wh-who are you?” Eli stammered, staring into the screen.
“Go home, Eli,” she said. “
I'm
Jack's best friend now. We don't want you here.”
Eli had gone very pale. His chin was trembling.
He set the phone down carefully on the bedspread. Then he pulled me toward the hall.
“We have to talk,” he whispered.
“Don't try anything,” the girl called from the phone. “I can hurt you both. I can really mess you up.”
Eli pulled me into the hall. “I see what you were saying,” he whispered. “The phone is definitely powered off. But she's talking through it. She doesn't turn off.”
“She won't go away,” I whispered back. “And you hear how mean she is. She's crazy.”
“What are we going to do?” Eli whispered, glancing toward my bedroom door. “How do we get rid of her?”
“Huh? You tell
me
!” I cried. “
You're
the electronics genius.”
Eli chewed his bottom lip some more. Then his eyes went wide. “I have a
genius
plan,” he said.
He wiped his nose. He started to blink a lot. That meant he was thinking hard.
“What's your plan?” I whispered.
“I need a small-bladed screwdriver,” Eli said. “And a small Phillips screwdriver. A watchmaker's pick. And needle-nose pliers.”
“My dad has all that stuff down in his workshop,” I said. “But what do you plan to do?”
“I have to open the phone,” he replied. “I think someone has planted two SIM cards in there.”
“Two SIM cards?”
He nodded. “That's what controls the phone. It would be easy to plant a second receiver and speaker in there, too.”
“You mean â ?”
“You turn off the one phone. But someone has installed a
second
phone inside that can't be shut down.”
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.”
“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 â ?”
“That wasn't very nice, boys,” she said. “Why are you making me
punish
you?”
“P-punish?” Eli stammered.
ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZTT.
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 â I can't drop it! It ⦠won't ⦔
I lurched forward â 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 â”
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 the 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.”