Heads, You Lose! by R. L. Stine

Author:R. L. Stine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scholastic Inc.
Published: 2015-05-26T16:00:00+00:00

Ryan helped pull me to my feet. I brushed off my legs. I pulled a bug off the front of my shorts.

I shut my eyes. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream.

I wanted to howl like the other sad dungeon prisoners.

When I opened my eyes, Ryan had a smile on his face. I blinked a few times. Was I seeing things?

“What?” I said. “You’re smiling?”

He pointed down to the floor. I lowered my gaze. He was pointing at my left sneaker.

I cried out when I saw the gold coin caught in the laces.

“It didn’t hit the floor,” Ryan said. “It landed on your shoe.”

I let out a long sigh of relief. Then I grabbed the coin. I held it tightly in my fist. “You’re not getting away again,” I told it.

Did the coin have the magic to take us out of this dungeon?

All around us, prisoners began to shout and cheer. They banged on their cell bars until the noise was so loud, I covered my ears.

I saw a ragged man with long, stringy white hair moving from cell to cell. He stepped up to our cell door. He carried a flat wooden tray stacked with metal bowls.

He set it down and pulled out a small ring of keys. He put one of the keys in the door and opened our cell. Just wide enough to shove in two bowls filled with gray muck. It looked like wet plaster.

“Feed time,” the man muttered. “My last stop.”

Ryan stepped to the door to pick up the bowls. “What are we having for lunch?” he asked the man.

The man squinted at Ryan. “Lunch? What is lunch?” he asked. “Did you find that word in a book?”

Ryan just shook his head. “Don’t we get spoons?”

The man rolled his eyes. “Crazy prisoners,” he muttered. “Spoons? Making up your own words?” He slammed the cell door shut.

We watched him walk away, swinging the tray at his side.

Ryan set the two bowls down on the wooden bench. The soup or whatever it was smelled like sour buttermilk.

Was this our only meal of the day?

I felt sick. I grabbed my stomach.

When I turned to Ryan, he was grinning again.

“What’s up this time?” I demanded.

His grin grew wider. He reached behind his back and pulled something out of his pocket.

I gaped at it in amazement.

The food man’s keys!

Despite my fear, I burst out laughing. I slapped Ryan on the back. “Wow! You haven’t lost your touch!”

“When you’re good, you’re good,” Ryan said.

He raised the keys and we both stepped to the cell door.

“Let’s get out of here,” I said.

I didn’t realize how hard that would be.

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