Don't Scream! by R. L. Stine Page B

think I’m going crazy,” I muttered. “Please tell me this is all some kind of weird joke.”
    â€œIt’s not a joke,” she said. “I know there are others like me. People who exist only in the digital world. I need to find them, Jack. I need a friend who is like me.”
    â€œI’ll be your friend,” I said. “Really. Just don’t make me steal a computer from the school. If I get caught —”
    â€œIs it getting quieter out there?” she asked.
    I listened hard. A few voices out in the hall. Someone was singing a song. A locker slammed.
    â€œIt takes a long time for the school to empty out,” I said. “Maybe I can still catch the bus. Maybe —”
    â€œWe’ll wait,” she replied.
    So I sat there, huddled behind the bass drum. I gripped the phone tightly in my sweaty hand. And thought about how much trouble I could be in.
    Time passed slowly. I kept glancing up at the round clock high on the far wall. I could hear the tick of the second hand. Each tick made my heart beat a little faster.
    Outside the window, the afternoon sun was lowering behind the trees.
    Finally, the hall was silent. No voices. No footsteps.
    I glanced at the clock. Four fifteen. I’d been hiding in the band room for over an hour.
    I climbed to my feet and stretched. My back felt sore from sitting so stiffly.
    I raised the phone to my face. “Are you still there?” I whispered. “Are we really doing this?”
    â€œYes, we are,” she replied, her voice tinny inside the phone. “I think I hear a signal. I think I may have a friend in there.”
    â€œBut —” I started to protest once again. “The kids are all gone,” I said, “but the teachers stay late. If a teacher sees me …”
    â€œDon’t get caught,” she said.

23
    I stepped into the hallway and glanced up and down. Someone had left a locker open. One white sneaker lay on the floor in front of the locker.
    No one in the hall. The silence seemed so
loud
.
    I took a step and then another. My whole body tingled with fear.
    â€œI … I’ve never stolen anything in my life,” I whispered.
    Emmy giggled. “That’s cute. Just hurry to the computer lab, okay? Let’s find that laptop and take it home, Jack. I have a good feeling about this.”
    â€œI don’t,” I muttered.
    But I crept down the hall, turned the corner, and stopped in front of the computer lab.
    The red wooden door was closed. I pressed my face against the small window at the top and peered inside. The room was dark.
    â€œWhat are you waiting for?” Emmy snapped. “Go inside.”
    I turned the knob and pushed the door open.
    The fading afternoon sunlight washed in through the row of windows to my left. I blinked, waiting for my eyes to adjust to the light.
    In front of me stretched long tables with desktop and laptop computers. A tangle of cables and wires covered the tables.
    The screens were dark. The computers were all shut off.
    â€œOkay, here we are,” I whispered.
    I heard a sound out in the hall. A soft thud. Footsteps?
    My heart skipped a beat. “Which one? Hurry!” I said.
    â€œI’m trying to decide,” Emmy replied. “I’m getting a definite vibe.”
    â€œPlease — hurry.”
    â€œThe laptop on the end,” Emmy said finally. “I’m getting a strong signal. Quick, Jack. Grab it. Unhook it. Let’s go.”
    I stepped up to the table. My legs were shaking. I groaned. “I … can’t believe I’m doing this.”
    I closed the screen against the keyboard. It made a soft click. I grabbed the power cord and tugged it loose.
    There were two USB cords attached to the back. I grabbed them with a trembling hand and struggled to tug them off.
    â€œHurry,” Emmy urged from the phone.
    I finally pulled the USB cables free. Then I lifted the laptop from the table. I raised