The Curse of Camp Cold Lake by R L Stine & R. L. Stine

Author:R L Stine & R. L. Stine [Stine, R L & Stine, R. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: Juvenile Fiction, Horror, Children's Books.3-5
ISBN: 9780439724043
Google: Ea10NgAACAAJ
Amazon: 043972404X
Publisher: Scholastic
Published: 2005-06-02T00:00:00+00:00

15

I struggled to shore.

My feet were numb. I couldn’t feel the muddy bottom as I staggered out of the water.

I rubbed my arms. I couldn’t feel the touch of my hands. Couldn’t feel the water pouring off me, running down my back.

Couldn’t feel anything. Numb. Numb all over.

“Where is everyone?” I called.

But did I make a sound? Did I have a voice?

I couldn’t hear myself.

I stepped onto the grass and shook myself. Like a dog trying to get dry.

Trying to shake some feeling into my cold, numb body.

“Where did you all go?”

Hugging myself, I stumbled forward. I stopped when I saw the canoes. All tacked upside down by the shore and tied up.

Weren’t kids canoeing today? Weren’t the canoes all out in the lake?

“Hey!” I shouted.

But why couldn’t I hear my shout?

“Where is everyone?”

No one on the shore.

I spun around, nearly losing my balance. No one in the water.

No one. No one anywhere.

I stumbled past the life preservers and rubber rafts. Covered with a canvas tarp.

Isn’t anyone going to use them? I wondered. Why are they covered up?

Why did everyone leave the lake so quickly?

Shivering, hugging myself, I made my way toward the lodge. I gasped when I noticed the trees.

Bare. All winter bare.

“Noooooooo!” a frightened wail escaped my throat. A silent wail.

Could anyone hear me?

When had the leaves fallen? Why had they fallen in the middle of summer?

I started to trot along the path to the lodge. Cold. So cold.

Something stung my shoulder. Something tingled my eyelids.

Snow?

Yes. Tiny white flakes drifted down, blown by a steady breeze. The bare trees rattled and creaked.

I brushed snowflakes from my wet hair.

Snow?

But I knew that was impossible.

All impossible.

“Heeeeeeey!” My shout echoed through the trees. Or did it?

Could anyone hear my frightened call?

“Hellllllllllp!” I shouted. “Somebody hellllllp me!”

Silence, except for the creaking tree limbs overhead.

I started to run again. My bare feet moved silently over the cold ground.

The cabins came into view as I made my way out of the trees. Their flat roofs were covered by a thin layer of snow.

The ground was as gray as the sky. The cabins were all dark, the shingled walls gray. Gray all around me.

A cold world of gray.

I pushed open the door of the first cabin I came to. “Hey—I need help!” I cried.

I stared into the empty room.

No one there. No camp trunks. No clothes scattered about.

I raised my eyes to the bunk beds against the wall. The blankets, the sheets—the mattresses—had all been taken away.

I guess this cabin isn’t being used, I thought.

I backed out of the door. Turned and ran down the row of cabins. All dark and silent.

My cabin stood where the path curved up the hill. With a sigh of relief, I ran up to it and pushed open the door.

“Briana? Meg?”

Empty. And dark.

The mattresses gone. The posters pulled down. No clothes. No bags or trunks.

No sign that anyone had ever lived in here.

“Where are you?” I shrieked.

And then, “Where am I?”

Where was my stuff? Where was my bed?

Uttering another terrified wail, I lurched out of the cabin.

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