Party Summer

R. L. STINE

POCKET BOOKS
1991 Parachute Press, Inc.

WHERE YOUR WORST NIGHTMARES LIVE…

FEAR STREET
® by R.L. Stine

DON'T MISS THE EXCITEMENT AND TERROR OF EVERY NEW FEAR STREET NOVEL

THE NEW GIRL

THE SURPRISE PARTY

THE OVERNIGHT

MISSING

THE WRONG NUMBER

THE SLEEPWALKER

HAUNTED

HALLOWEEN PARTY

THE STEPSISTER

SKI WEEKEND

THE FIRE GAME

Fear Street Super Chiller:
PARTY SUMMER

All Available from Archway Paperbacks Published by Pocket Books AND
LIGHTS OUT COMING IN JULY '91

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK
Original

An Archway Paperback published by
POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com

Copyright © 1991 by Parachute Press, Inc.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

ISBN: 0-671-72920-9

ISBN 13: 978-0-671-72920-2

eISBN 978-1-439-12093-4

First Archway Paperback printing May 1991

10  9  8  7  6  5  4  3  2  1

FEAR STREET is a trademark of Parachute Press, Inc.

AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster.

Cover art by Bill Schmidt

Printed in the U.S.A.

IL 6+

Party Summer

S
heets of rain thundered down onto the roof, a steady drumroll. The gusting wind forced a slender tree branch to click against the attic window,
tap tap tap,
like bony fingers trying to get in. Somewhere in the distance a siren wailed, its shrillness muffled by the heavy curtain of rain.

Jan closed her eyes and tried to shut out all sound.

No distractions, she thought, sweeping her black hair over her shoulder with a quick motion of her head.

Go away, world. Go away.

Eyes closed, her features tightened into an expression of intense concentration, she forced the sounds from her mind. The roar of the rain became a gentle hum and then disappeared completely. The wind slowed, then hushed. The siren vanished into the distance.

Go away, world. Go away.

On her knees on the attic floor, Jan was assaulted by a sour, musty smell—a mixture of mildew, old newspapers, dampness, and dust. It invaded her nose, caught in her throat.

I've got to shut out the smells too, she thought, holding her breath.

I've got to shut out everything, clear my mind, and concentrate….

Downstairs, the dog was barking. Excited, high-pitched yips.

Jan opened her large dark eyes, then rolled them in disgust. “Can't they keep that mutt quiet?”

Foxy would be angry at me for calling him a mutt, she thought, a smile forcing its way across her serious face.

She waited for the dog to stop yipping, heard a door slam, heard the phone ring. Once. Twice.

Is anyone down there? Is anyone going to answer it?

The attic floor creaked. The rain continued to pound on the roof just above her head. She could hear the splash of water overflowing the gutter. Jan glanced back over her shoulder toward the attic steps.

Amazing how much you can hear, even with the attic door closed, she thought. Amazing how hard it is to shut out the world, even when you really try.

She turned back, squatting on her knees, and set her features, concentrating with renewed dedication. Leaning forward, she reached out and allowed her hand to trace the outlines of the pentacle she had drawn in white chalk on the wooden attic
floorboards. First the five-pointed star. Then the circle around the star.

The wood felt warm beneath her fingers. She ran her hand along the circle again. Again.

The light from the window dimmed. She looked up at a green-gray sky, heavy and near. A ghostly sky, she thought.

A very promising sky.

The floor beneath her seemed to grow even warmer. She stared at the pea-soup sky until she felt absorbed by it, lost in it. Everything became a green-gray, shadowless blur.

Then she shut her eyes.

The roar of the rain began to fade.

The fingers ceased their tapping against the dusty windowpane.

Go away, world. Go away.

Jan concentrated hard, remembering the instructions she had read, all of the books she had practically memorized, remembering all of the accounts she had spent so many hours poring over, absorbing, studying until she was ready.

Ready for her own encounter.

Her hand continued to trace the chalked circle and star, slowly at first, then faster, until the floor burned her fingertips.

Faster, faster. The floor was heating up now. The circle, a chalky smear, seemed to raise up beneath her fingers.

Yes, yes.

The world was gone. The heavy, noisy world was far away.

The spirit world was moving closer.

Jan could feel it, feel it under her fingertips as they circled the floor, growing hot, hot, hotter until they weren't part of her any longer. Until she wasn't part of her own fingers. Until she wasn't part of the world. Until she was no longer on her knees on the attic floor, no longer in her house. No longer anywhere.

The spirit was so close to her now.

The spirit she had summoned from the other side.

A chill ran down the length of her body, making her shudder.

Success. It was working.

She knew it was working.

She could feel the ghostly presence. She could feel it hovering over her, circling her like a dark, silent hawk.

She could feel its warmth now as it moved closer.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

She could definitely feel the presence, sense it without seeing it, feel that it was watching her, preparing to make contact.

The spirit was behind her now. She could feel the heat on her back, feel her dark hair tingle with electricity.

“I know you're here,” Jan said, her voice a whisper, a tremor of sound. “I know you're here.”

Silence.

Too excited to breathe, dizzy with the power she had summoned, Jan opened her eyes.

Slowly, expectantly, she turned her head.

“What are
you
doing here?” she cried.

C
ari stood on the top attic step, her mouth hanging open in surprise and confusion. Eric laughed and slapped Craig's hand in a high-five.

“What are you doing here?” Jan repeated angrily, scrambling up from her position on the floor, violently dusting off her jeans with both hands. She tossed back her black hair, her dark eyes flashing at her three friends.

Cari, Eric, and Craig made no attempt to move from the steps. At first Cari had been startled by the scene she and the two boys had found in the attic. And now she was startled by Jan's angry reaction at being discovered.

“I didn't know you were a witch,” Craig said, his expression blank, not revealing whether he was joking or not.

Eric laughed uncomfortably. “Of
course
we
knew,” he joked. “Couldn't you tell from those pointy hats she always wears?”

“I thought those fit her head,” Craig replied, and the two of them burst out in loud laughter that echoed through the low, narrow attic.

“You're not funny,” Jan said, and her expression turned from anger to hurt. “You had no business sneaking up here and … and spying on me.” Her voice trembled with emotion, and her eyes blinked as if holding back tears.