Surprise Party by R.L. Stine

Author:R.L. Stine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon Pulse
Published: 2020-09-02T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 12

FRIDAY, AFTER MIDNIGHT

Her flashlight was kicked from her hand. It sailed into a deep clump of leaves, its light buried. Meg tried to twist free. But the hand held tight, squeezing her shoulder harder as she struggled. She realized she was gasping for air. The sharp pain from her shoulder was spreading down her arm, down her side, down her entire body.

The grip on her shoulder tightened. She felt hot breath against her cheek. She smelled onions and french fry grease.

“I warned you—don’t have the party.”

The words were whispered but the whisper was a roar.

With one desperate surge of strength, she pulled herself out of the suffocating grasp. She lurched forward—and screamed as she began to fall. She raised her hands to grab onto something. But there was nothing to grab.

She was falling down a steep ravine, falling face forward, then rolling. Her head hit something hard, a rock or a tree stump.

Lights flashed in her head, flashed in rhythm to the throbbing pain.

The lights didn’t stop, even though she was unconscious.

She came to quickly, feeling the pain in her head and in her shoulder. She didn’t know where she was. She looked for her ceiling, her dresser, her desk. But she wasn’t in bed.

She was lying on wet ground, in a deep, foul-smelling pile of decaying leaves and weeds.

She sat up, her head throbbing harder. She remembered now.

“Hey—” She tried to shout, but she didn’t make any sound. She reached up and pulled twigs from her hair.

My hair. I must look a mess, she thought.

Of all the crazy things to think about. Am I going crazy?

A leaf was stuck against the back of her neck. She pulled it away and felt a surge of nausea. She fought it back. And sitting up straight, taking deep breaths, fought back the dizziness too.

And stood up.

And saw the body lying at her feet.

At least, she saw part of a body. A sweatshirt pulled up to reveal bare skin. The back of the sweatshirt, torn and stained. Blue jeans. An arm.

Wait a minute. Was she seeing things? Was she hallucinating because of her fall?

She dropped to her knees to get a closer look. No. It was a real body. It moved suddenly, and groaned.

It was alive.

The stains on the sweatshirt. The stains…

She reached forward and touched the sleeve, pulling her hand back as she felt the warm wetness. Blood.

She crawled around him, and turned him so she could see the face.

Brian.

Not Tony. Brian.

She felt so guilty for thinking that. But she couldn’t stop her thoughts. She couldn’t hold back the feeling of relief she felt.

“Brian—are you awake? Can you hear me?”

He groaned again but didn’t move. His mouth was bleeding.

She saw his face in the light. It was swollen and bloody.

The light?

Someone was shining a flashlight down on them. “Meg? What—what are you doing here?” a familiar voice called from the top of the ravine.

“Tony? Is that you? You’re okay? Are you really okay?”

He came sliding down the side of the ravine. Then he ran to her, pulled her up from the ground, and put his arms around her.

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