Chapter 31

I raced after the bus, waving my arms and shouting. I saw kids waving back at me and laughing. Slowly, with a grinding of gears, the bus ground to a halt. Mr. Grunter, who was driving, opened the door.

“Decided to come with us, did you?” he said, grinning at me. “You won’t regret it, Gruff.”

I dropped into the seat behind Kim and Paul. They twisted around, still laughing.

“We thought you weren’t coming,” said Kim.

“I know you want to stay in school and learn all the stuff you’ve missed, Gruff,” said Paul, his blue eyes twinkling. “But werewolves—that’s going too far even for you.”

My stomach lurched as Big Rick dropped into the seat beside me. He was grinning. “Hey, geek-face, that monster stuff was pretty cool,” he said, jabbing an elbow in my ribs. “Did you see Clawson’s face? He looked like he had a mouthful of old roadkill.”

“He is roadkill,” chimed in another kid.

“Come on, you guys, he’s the one who organized this field trip,” Kim protested. “Give him a break. Mr. Clawson got us out of school for the whole afternoon. He can’t be all bad.”

“Oh, yeah? The monster stuff may be weirdsville but wolf-boy’s right about one thing,” said Rick. “Clawson never did anything because it was going to be fun for us kids. He’s got something up his sleeve. For instance, why won’t he tell us where we’re going?”

“He wants it to be a surprise,” said Kim.

“That’s what worries me,” said Rick. He stood up and pointed out the front of the bus, at a large black car with heavily tinted windows that was leading the way. “Clawson won’t even ride on the bus with us. He can’t stand kids. His idea of a surprise is not going to be our idea of fun.”

“He’s probably taking us to the state prison to show us what happens to bad kids who don’t follow all his rules,” chimed in Paul, looking worried.

“What spoilsports you guys are,” said Kim, tossing her head and making her hair swing over her shoulders. “I’m not going to listen to this anymore.” And with that she started singing at the top of her lungs:

“A hundred bottles of puke on the wall, a hundred bottles of puke. One of the bottles of puke fell off, ninety-nine bottles of puke on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of puke …”

It was a funny song and educational, too, with all the counting. I wanted to join in but I felt like something furry with teeth was gnawing on the inside of my stomach.

It was two o’clock in the afternoon. In five hours the full moon would rise. The wereing would begin.

Mr. Clawson would become Ripper, leader of the werewolves. He would have the children of Fox Hollow right where he wanted them—trapped far from the safety of Fox Hollow and their parents.

We drove for a long time. Big Rick amused himself by singing loudly in my ear and leaning heavily against me every time we went around a curve. I gritted my teeth and ignored him. I had bigger things to worry about.

Finally the kids on the bus got tired of the puke song and began to guess at our destination. “The state park!” “The wax museum!” “The beach!”

Suddenly the bus lurched. Kids were thrown against the sides. The bus jolted and wobbled. Something scraped the roof.

I jumped up to see what was happening. The principal’s black car had turned onto a narrow dirt road enclosed on both sides by thick trees and brambles. The road looked like it hadn’t been used in a long time.

The bus was turning into the woods, following the black car.

“Don’t!” I shouted. “Don’t follow. We’ll never leave! Don’t follow, he’ll get us!”