The Second Evil by R.L. Stine Page B

strange smile on Debra’s face? Corky wondered. Debra was once again fingering the crystal on her neck. Her smile was smug.
    Why does she look so pleased? Corky asked herself.
    Debra caught Corky staring at her, and whirled away.
    Kimmy shouted for the girls to line up. “Everyone ready?”
    Seated on Kimmy’s coat, Corky pressed her back against the tiles of the gym wall She shut her eyes and took a deep breath.
    â€œHey, you!”
The girls began the cheer.
    The hideous screams returned.
    So loud. So close.
    Corky leapt to her feet, trying to locate the screaming girl.
    No one there.
    The cheerleaders continued their cheer. But the terrified shrieks drowned out their voices.
    â€œNo!” Corky shrieked. “No!” Covering her ears, she ran to the door.
    The screams followed her as she pushed open both doors and burst out of the gym—into the arms of the young man with the strange gray eyes who had chased her in the Fear Street cemetery.

Chapter 9
“Don’t You Know Who I Am?”

    W ith a loud gasp, Corky stared up into his startled face.
    His eyes really were gray. Like those of a ghost. Like monster eyes.
    He gripped her arms tightly above the elbow.
    He was wearing a brown leather bomber jacket. The leather felt cool against her arms. His breath smelled of peppermint.
    â€œLet go!” Corky cried, regaining her voice.
    His strange eyes narrowed. His expression changed from surprise to menace.
    â€œLet go!” She pulled back out of his grasp.
    â€œHey!” he cried angrily.
    She spun around and started to run, her sneakers thudding hard on the concrete floor.
    â€œStop!” he shouted, his voice reedy, high-pitched.
    Who
is
he? Corky wondered. Why is he following me? How did he
find
me?
    She glanced back and saw that he was chasing her, his expression angry, his arms out as if preparing to grab her.
    She ran wildly past a blur of lockers and up the stairs at the end of the corridor.
    â€œStop!” he called, close behind her. His boots pounded thunderously over the floor.
    At the top of the stairs Corky gasped in a mouthful of air, turned to the right, changed her mind, took the corridor to her left, running as fast as she could.
    â€œHelp me! Somebody!” she called breathlessly.
    But the hall was deserted. The wall clock read four twenty-five.
    â€œSomebody—
please!”
    She glanced back to see him emerge at the top of the stairs. He looked to the right, then spotted her in the hallway to the left.
    â€œWait!” he called and began running toward her, his expression hard, angry.
    She uttered a low cry and turned the corner, searching frantically for a hiding place.
    An idea flashed into her mind—she could duck into an open locker and pull the door shut. But the lockers on both sides of the hall were all locked.
    â€œHey!” She could hear him calling to her. He was about to turn the corner.
    A sharp pain stabbed her side. She sucked in a mouthful of air, her mouth dry, her forehead throbbing.
    I can’t keep running, she thought, hearing hisfootsteps near the corner. She hurled herself through an open classroom door to her right and pressed her back against the wall.
    Had he seen her? Would he burst in after her?
    Seeing the long tables, the tall stools, the Bunsen burners and other equipment, Corky realized she had ducked into the science lab. She wanted to call to Mr. Adams—sometimes he stayed late, grading papers in the small office at the back.
    But she could hear the footsteps of the young man right outside the lab door. She couldn’t call out. She could only hold her breath and pray, her back pressed against the wall, her side still aching with pain, her forehead still throbbing.
    Would he run past the door—and keep on running?
    Would he give up and leave?
    She listened hard.
    His footsteps stopped. “Hey!” he called.
    He was just outside the lab door.
    Corky shut her eyes and silently repeated,