Case File 13 #3 (4 page)

Carter sulked. “I told you. It had nothing to do with the candy. I was dreaming I had to beat Godzilla in a game of HORSE or he was going to destroy New Jersey.”

“There are worse states he could pick,” Dad said.

Mom just shook her head and rolled her eyes. “No more sweets and no more scary stories. I'm exhausted and the last thing I want to do is wake up in the middle of the night because one of you boys is having a nightmare.” She walked around the fire and stopped in front of Carter. “Let's have it.”

Carter looked up, his eyes wide and innocent. “What?”

Mom waggled a finger. “You think I don't know about your stash of sweets? Hand it over. I'll give it back in the morning.”

Carter looked at Nick and Angelo as if checking to see which of them had snitched.

“You might as well give in,” Nick said. “Moms have X-ray vision and a super sense of smell. She can tell if I've been wearing the same pair of socks for more than two days without even looking.”

“Fine.” Carter dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a bag of gummy worms.

“Keep going,” Mom said, taking the candy.

Carter frowned and checked his other pockets. One by one, a pair of Kit Kats, three Pixy Stix, a box of Junior Mints, and a package of mini doughnuts went from his pockets into Mom's hands. “That's it,” he said, as he handed over the last item. “I hope you're happy. I'll probably starve tonight.”

Mom pressed her lips together, weighing the pile of loot. “Unzip your jacket.”

“What?” Carter's mouth dropped open. “That's everything.”

“Give it up.” Nick laughed. “I told you. X-ray vision.”

Carter snorted and opened the front of his hoodie. Inside was a full package of Oreos.

“I'll keep an eye on those,” Dad said, getting up from his log.

“Not a chance, buster,” Mom said with a smirk. “I'm not having cookie crumbs in my tent attracting bugs and who knows what other creatures. I'm putting this all in the car, safely out of the reach of boys big and small.” She turned to Nick and his friends. “Okay, time for bed. And don't stay up all night laughing and talking. We've got a busy day tomorrow.”

As the boys took off their shoes and climbed into their tent, Angelo whispered, “Too bad about the cookies. Those would have been great to snack on tonight.”

Carter peeked out the tent door to make sure Nick's mom wasn't watching and reached into his sleeping bag. A second later he pulled out a twelve-pack of Mountain Dew and another package of Oreos. He winked. “Double Stuf.”

Nick was dreaming about being chased through his school by a mummy. Although the
mummy should have been shuffling slowly along, in his dream it was racing up and down the halls on roller skates. A vampire rowing a boat past a bank of lockers told Nick to hide in the girls' bathroom. But even though the school was closed for the night, and there wouldn't be any girls in the bathroom, Nick was too embarrassed to go in. He was trying to convince the vampire to steal the mummy's skates when something jabbed him in the ribs.

“You can't make me go into the girls' bathroom,” he mumbled.

“Who said anything about the girls' bathroom?” a voice asked.

Nick squinted into a blinding light. “What's going on?”

“Wake up,” the voice said.

Nick realized someone was pointing a flashlight directly into his eyes. “Get that out of my face,” he said, blocking the light with his hands. The flashlight moved away and in the darkness he could just make out Carter staring down at him.

For a moment Nick thought he was home in his room. Then he looked around and saw Angelo struggling to climb out of his sleeping bag.

“What time is it?” Nick asked, sitting up. As the sleeping bag slipped down to his waist, the cold air reached his arms and face, raising goose bumps.

“Almost three,” Angelo said, after pushing on his glasses and checking his watch. “What are you doing waking us up in the middle of the night, Carter? If it's Godzilla again, tell him to find a new game.”

Carter pointed his light toward the door of the tent. “I heard something out there.”

“Are you kidding me?” Nick lay back on his air mattress and pulled his sleeping bag around his shoulders. “Go to sleep.”

“No, really,” Carter insisted. “I heard something outside, moving around.”

Angelo ran his fingers through hair that poked up in every direction. “It's probably just a chipmunk or a squirrel.”

“Trying to break into the car?”

At Carter's words, Nick pushed himself up. “Squirrels break into trashcans and coolers, not cars.”

Carter gave an exasperated huff. “That's what I'm saying! Something is out there and it was trying to get into the car.”

Angelo took off his glasses and polished the lenses on the front of his T-shirt before peering at Carter through the darkness. “Are you sure you weren't dreaming?”

“It wasn't a dream.” Carter held the flashlight against his chest, his features oddly disturbing in the shadows created by the upward-facing beam. “I woke up a little while
ago and had to go to the bathroom really bad. You know, because of all the . . .”

“We know. Because of the soda,” Angelo said, twirling his finger to move the story along.

“Right. Anyway, it took me a while to find my flashlight, and once I did, I was getting ready to unzip the tent when I heard this shuffling sound—like footsteps.”

Nick knew Carter would take an hour to tell a five-minute story if you let him, and he could feel his eyelids beginning to droop. “Can you skip to the part about something breaking into the car?”

Carter grimaced. “I'd be there already if you two would quit interrupting me. So anyway, I was about to unzip the tent when I heard—”

At that moment, a metallic clicking sound came from outside the tent. Nick and Angelo turned toward the sound while Carter covered the lens of the flashlight with his fingers. “That's it,” Carter hissed.

The three boys stared at the closed door of the tent as the sound came again—
click-clack, click-clack.
It could have been anything: a tin can banging against a rock, the camp stove rattling in the wind. But what it sounded like was the door handle of the car being raised and lowered.

“You think it could be your dad?” Angelo asked quietly.

Nick swallowed. “Maybe. But why would he be jiggling the door handle at three in the morning?”

They waited silently. Nick didn't know about the others, but he was getting seriously spooked.

The sound came again.
Click-clack, click-clack, click-clack.
Whoever or whatever it was seemed to be jiggling the handle over and over.

Angelo clutched his monster notebook to his chest like a shield. He looked at Carter. “Y-y-y-you've got the f-f-f-flashlight. Look and see what's out there.”

“Are you kidding?” Carter asked, his eyes wide. “What if it's Bigfoot? I'd rather pee my pants.” He rolled the flashlight across the tent floor to Nick.

“What kind of Monsterteers are you?” Nick whispered. But the truth was he didn't want to go outside either. It was one thing to talk about a twelve-foot-tall creature when you were sitting inside a warm, safe car. But here, in the middle of the pitch-black woods, with nothing between him and whatever was out there but a flimsy piece of nylon, the thought of an actual Sasquatch was terrifying.

He picked up the light with shaking hands, hoping that whatever it was would go away. Instead, the clicking was replaced by the sound of footsteps.

“It's coming toward us,” Carter said, sliding to the back of the tent.

Something crackled just outside the door and Nick's throat closed to the size of a straw. “If that's you trying to scare us, Dad, it isn't funny.”

The crackling stopped and the shuffling footsteps circled around the side of the tent. Whatever it was, it was just outside. Studying them? Waiting to rip the tent open and eat them all?

The thought of being trapped inside the tent while some huge creature attacked was too much. With a gasp of fear, Nick yanked down the zipper and tumbled through the open door. Outside, the flashlight seemed completely ineffective against the overwhelming darkness of the woods.

“What do you see?” Angelo asked from inside the tent.

Swinging the beam left and right, Nick searched for a Sasquatch or a bear, or whatever had been outside. “Hang on,” he croaked.

With trembling hands, and knees that felt like melted ice cream, he edged around the side of the tent. In his mind, he could just imagine glowing eyes staring down at him. Every branch seemed to be a reaching paw, every shadow a hulking figure. But although he was sure something was out there, he couldn't see anything more menacing than one of Carter's candy wrappers.

Slowly he began circling the tent.

“If it's Bigfoot, hoot like an owl,” Carter called.

Nick gritted his teeth. “If it's Bigfoot I'm going to run for my life and let it eat you.” By the time he had completely circled the tent—finding no creatures of any kind—his heart rate was beginning to return to normal. He took a deep breath. “Whatever it was, it's gone.”

Carter's head popped out of the tent door, swiveling left and right. “Are you sure?”

“No. I'm just trying to get you to come outside so it can eat you.” Nick picked up the candy wrapper off the ground and handed it to Carter. “Don't litter.”

Carter looked at the wrapper and frowned. “Hey, who ate my gummy worms?”

“What do you mean?” Angelo asked, crawling out the door next to him.

Carter held out the wrapper. “This is the wrapper from the gummy worms Nick's mom took from me. Somebody ate them.”

“That's not the only thing someone ate,” Angelo said, pointing toward the fire ring.

Nick turned to see an open Oreo package on the ground. He picked it up, making the same crackling sound they'd heard from inside the tent.

Carter climbed out of the tent and walked over, hugging his arms to his chest to keep warm. “If your dad ate all my snacks, he's totally buying me more.”

Angelo came out of the tent, holding his own flashlight and shining it around the side
of the tent. “Um, guys,” he said, his voice sounding much higher-pitched than normal. “I don't think it was Nick's dad that ate the cookies.” He knelt on the ground, studying something in the dirt.

“What did you find?” Nick asked, coming over to join him.

“If it was a raccoon, I'm turning it into a coonskin cap,” Carter said. “Nobody messes with my candy.”

Nick was opening his mouth to tell Carter that he'd probably run screaming like a little girl if he ever came face-to-face with a raccoon, when he spotted what Angelo was looking at and the words froze in the back of his throat.

“Dude,” Carter whispered. “Is that what I think it is?”

Nick collapsed to his knees beside Angelo and stared at a footprint in the dirt. It was smeared a little, as if whatever had made it was dragging its feet. But even in the dark of night, with the edges slightly blurred, it was clear that the print was at least twice as large as the biggest human foot.

Carter backed away, his face looking like someone had just shown him his own grave. “That's it. I'm out of here.”

“Hold on a minute,” Angelo said. “Let's think this through.”

“Think what through?” Nick asked. He stared into the dark woods, waiting for the shadows to morph into a terrifyingly huge creature. All he wanted to do was wake up his parents, tell them what he'd seen, and get away before the Sasquatch came back.

“This is proof of Bigfoot.” Angelo reached into his backpack and pulled out a small tape measure. He pulled the tape out and whistled softly. “Twenty-three inches.”

“Are you out of your ever-loving gourd?” Carter asked. “You're actually taking measurements while a monster waits to eat us? Those Oreos aren't going to keep it full for long.”