A Babysitter's Guide to Monster Hunting #3 Read online

  Click-clack! Berna snapped the crossbow string into place and loaded an arrow.

  “Stay still,” Berna said.

  “Little difficult!” I said.

  I know she was aiming at the gargoyle holding on to Cassie, but it sure seemed like she was going to shoot one of us.

  “Left! To the left!” Victor cried.

  “No, the right!” Curtis screamed.

  “Don’t shoot!” Cassie shrieked.

  “Shoot!” I shouted.

  Berna squinted and took aim. I closed my eyes.

  The arrow shot past my face and whiffed into the treetops.

  An inch more to the right, and my nose would have been the bull’s-eye.

  The relentless gargoyle towed us to the edge of a gorge. There was a slicing noise above me.

  Cassie had cut through her backpack strap.

  We fell like sacks of potatoes trying to do a cheerleader pyramid. The gargoyle vaulted into the sky with Cassie’s backpack in its clutches. We tumbled off each other and sprang to our feet.

  “Let him have it!” I screamed.

  We hurled our weapons at the flying beastie.

  Dinged with bumps and bruises, the gargoyle tucked Cassie’s backpack under its tail and swooped off into the northern sky.

  “My backpack! All my shtuff wash in there!” Cassie said.

  Curtis scooped up the sitter sat-phone from the ground and tossed it to Cassie.

  “Least they didn’t get this.”

  I watched the skies.

  “Poor Emmy,” I said. “Looks like they took her that way.”

  “Add her to the list of people to be rescued,” Berna said.

  “We need to keep moving before they inform the Baron,” I said.

  “Shtill no shignal!” Cassie said.

  The joyous sound of laughter and carnival music grew louder as we prowled up the sloping hillside Emmy Banks had pointed out to us. The wind whistled, carrying the smell of cotton candy and popcorn. A high chain-link fence topped with three layers of barbed wire stretched across the overgrown forest. A line of crows perched on the very top of the border surrounding the wicked heart of Sunshine Island: the amusement park.

  A Ferris wheel slowly turned beside a winding roller coaster. A merry-go-round’s organ chimed a sickly doot-doot-doot tune. There were booths with signs “Play a Game! Win a Prize!” Giant banners for the freak show tent advertised normal children. “The Girl Who Picks Her Nose! Come See the Boy Who Burps!” Signs read “No Parents! No Rules!” and “You Do NOT Have to be This Tall to Ride This Ride!”

  There were twenty kids from ages five to ten in the park. They were screaming and running. But not from fear. They were having the time of their lives.

  I watched one boy throw his friend off the merry-go-round. A little girl stormed into a game booth and grabbed a prize teddy bear and then proceeded to rip its stuffing out. A kid drove a bumper car off the rails and crashed it straight into a candy hut, causing an explosion of Skittles. Kids in the ice cream shop hurled scoops of ice cream at each other, like they were in a snowball fight.

  There was a building called the Rage House, where kids with chain saws were chopping a couch in half. The kids giggled maniacally as couch fluff scattered the air. A tent with a DJ booth blasted angry electronic dance music. Kids in batting cages hit home runs into windows. A building made to look like a library was on fire. Kids danced around it, tearing books in half and tossing the pages into the giant bonfire.

  “What is wrong with those kids?” Berna said.

  “They’re the bad kids,” I said.

  The babysitters nodded in agreement. We had enough experience to recognize a problem child—and this park was full of them.

  22

  “I’m not going anywhere near that park,” Cassie said. “The lasht time I babyshat for kidsh like that, I ended up with bite marksh on my calf and a chunk of my hair cut off.”

  She showed us her scar. It was nasty.

  “Ooh, they have a Skyscreamer? That ride’s the best!” said Victor.

  He was looking at the most horrific ride there, which was basically a giant slingshot made from bungee cords that launched the rider hundreds of feet into the air and then snapped them back down to Earth. I had seen people on YouTube going on rides like that. Just watching them get flung around was enough to make me want to throw up.

  “Focus, Victor. We’re here for the mission, not to go on the rides,” said Curtis.

  “I know that,” Victor said defensively.

  Furry-frog- and sunshine-costumed characters waddled around the park, giving balloons and prizes to kids. They were the same hunched-over characters I saw on the Baron’s ship. Goblins in disguise.

  From A Babysitter’s Guide to Monster Hunting

  NAME: Goblin

  TYPE: Goblinoidus militum malus (note from Wugnot: distant relative to the far superior and more handsome species of hobgoblin)

  HEIGHT: 3'–4'

  WEIGHT: 60–90 lbs

  LIKES: Cave dwelling, eating rats, wearing costumes, hiding, general foolishness

  DISLIKES: Kale salad (or any salad, really). Being told what to do.

  STRENGTHS: Scrawny, scrappy. Pack hunters. Strong in numbers.

  WEAKNESSES: Malnourished bones and muscles make them easy to knock down. Individually weak.

  BEWARE: If you think a goblin is alone, they are not. There are usually tons more of them hiding under the ground beneath your feet, waiting to overwhelm you.

  The hunched characters seemed to be encouraging the kids to cause more chaos, applauding when they did something especially destructive.

  Berna checked her watch. “Three hours until sundown. I really don’t want to be here after dark. Better get moving.”

  I peered at the towering Ferris wheel. Every seat was empty.

  “If I can get to the very top of that Ferris wheel, I bet the sat-phone will pick up a signal,” I said. “Then I can radio Mama Vee for help. If I go solo, there’s a good chance they won’t catch me.”

  “But if you get in trouble, we can’t help you,” Berna said.

  “Berna, it’s my fault we’re here. This is my responsibility.”

  “This is a stupid idea,” Berna said. “And I like your ideas. I say we look for a better place to call for help.”

  “By then it will be sundown,” I said. “The sooner I go, the sooner I come back.”

  Berna clenched her jaw. I could tell she hated my plan. Heck, I hated my plan. But I had to do it to save our butts.

  “I’ll go with,” Victor said.

  “You don’t have to,” I said.

  “Babysitter Law Number Four: always take a buddy,” Victor said. “Check the guide.”

  I smiled at him, impressed he had been studying.

  While Berna and Victor kept watch, Curtis cut a small hole in the fence with his Rambo knife. Cassie zipped the sitter sat-phone into my backpack.

  “We’ll keep watch from here,” Berna said. “Keep your walkie on.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  I wanted to say so much more to them, but I didn’t want to make a big deal out of going into certain doom. So I said a quick good-bye and crawled through the hole in the fence. Victor scurried into the tall grass beside me.

  “Whatever you do, don’t start making out,” Curtis called after us.

  Even though I was filled with terror, I blushed.

  23

  We snaked through the tall grass to the edge of the park, where we hid behind a busted whirly-seat ride called “Flying Aces.” The chains holding the seats were thick with rust. Bolts and gears were scattered around it. A goblin wearing a dirty teddy bear costume stood at the control box, scratching his scalp.

  A ten-year-old boy, with a candy apple in one hand and a funnel cake clutched in the other, ran up the ramp. The goblin quickly popped on his teddy bear head before the kid could see his real face.

  The boy licked his sticky lips and shouted at the big fuzzy teddy bear
. “I wanna go on this!”

  The big fuzzy teddy bear gestured for the boy to get on. The little kid sat in his seat. The teddy bear pulled a lever. Gears clanked noisily as the seats slowly turned around in the air.

  “Faster!” screamed the boy.

  The teddy bear happily complied. I imagined the goblin’s yellow teeth curling into a smile behind his teddy bear mask as he cranked up the speed.

  From our hiding place Victor and I watched the boy whizz across the sky. His legs kicked with glee as he picked up speed.

  “Faster!” the boy screamed again.

  The chairs hanging from chains spun into a vertical blur. The boy’s candy apple thumped to the ground. His funnel cake splattered into the teddy bear’s face.

  “Faster!”

  Snap.

  The boy launched across the park, clinging to his untethered seat. The broken chain trailed behind him as he rocketed into a striped tent like a cannon ball. The whole thing came crashing down in a billowing mess.

  Every kid in the park froze.

  They stared.

  The boy staggered out from under the fallen tent and threw up his arms in victory.

  The park cheered.

  A jumbotron screen hanging in the center of the park replayed the insane accident/stunt over and over.

  “These kids are loco,” whispered Victor.

  The giggling goblin removed his teddy bear head, snatched the dirt-covered candy apple from the ground, and ate it in two snarling bites.

  Victor and I saw our chance. We grabbed the goblin from behind and pulled him into the tall grass. A quick thump from Victor’s bat knocked the goblin unconscious. We yanked the teddy bear costume off the skinny monster’s body. I yanked it on over my backpack, and Victor zipped me up. It was a tight fit, but it would do.

  I plugged my walkie-talkie headset into my ear and pulled on the teddy bear head. I gagged. The inside of it was hot and damp with goblin spit and bits of old food.

  “Barf level ten in here,” I said into the walkie. “Smells like I’m wearing a bag of sweaty gym socks boiled in old french fries.”

  “You look great,” Victor laughed.

  Through the eyeholes I saw his amused expression. I was glad to see his dimple was out even if I was choking on stale goblin breath.

  “Cover me,” I said.

  Victor hung back and kept a keen eye out for me. Wild screams and cackling laughter rang through the park. In a game booth, boys fired machine BB guns at tin targets. There was a video game tent where kids sat on beanbags, playing Overwatch and Minecraft. They looked feral. Like they had been playing for days.

  They had no idea how much trouble they were in. Even though they were bad kids, they were still kids. They didn’t deserve to be turned into monsters. I wanted to grab them and run them back to the babysitters, but what then? If I wanted to get everyone off the island safely, I needed to call Mama Vee and have her send in a rescue team.

  Glancing back, I saw Victor give me the all clear sign. I was almost at the Ferris wheel when a goblin wearing a silly moose costume and handing out balloons to the kids cocked his head at me.

  “Heads-up,” Victor said over the walkie. “You’ve been spotted.”

  I swallowed and tried to stay calm.

  “He’s coming toward you.” Victor’s voice crackled. “Be cool.”

  Sweat poured down my face as the moose snout bumped into my teddy bear ear.

  “Acka daka daka fun house,” the goblin said in ragged gibberish.

  The fun house? What happens in the fun house? I thought.

  I looked across the park to the fun house, where little carts on tracks rode through a cartoon monster’s wide, open mouth and vanished into a dark tunnel. Neon “Fun! Fun! Fun!” signs blinked and buzzed at the entrance.

  Something told me the opposite of fun waited in that house.

  I grunted to the goblin in the moose costume like Okay, I’ll get right on that. I quickly hobbled off, before the goblin could smell me through my disgusting disguise.

  The moose goblin kept his eyes on me.

  To keep the ruse up, I approached a little girl in pigtails, who had broken into the cotton candy booth and was swirling her hand in the machine, covering her whole arm into a ball of pink sugar fluff.

  I leaned down and whispered to her, “Hey, little girl. Whatever you do, don’t go in the fun house.”

  “Ew! Don’t tell me what to do!” shrieked the cotton candy fiend.

  Jacked up on sugar, she kicked me in the shins. Ow! I winced and, to her delight, hobbled away. Glancing back, I saw the moose goblin had returned to handing out balloons.

  “Nice work, Kelly,” Victor said into my earpiece.

  “Something’s up with that fun house,” I whispered.

  “One thing at a time,” Berna interjected over the line. “We need to get you on that Ferris wheel.”

  Scratching his butt through his smelly fuzzy frog costume, a goblin stood at the controls to the creaking Ferris wheel. I wanted to scale the side of the machine, but I was wearing a clunky bear outfit.

  “I wonder what their policy is on goblins riding the rides?” Berna asked over the walkie.

  “Boss probably doesn’t want them to sit down on the job,” I whispered.

  Ding-a-ling!

  “Kelly, on your six!” Victor shouted over the walkie. I spun around.

  A goblin wearing a sad dog costume was barreling toward me, pushing an ice cream cart.

  “Step back!” Victor yelled over the walkie-talkie.

  I took a step back, and the ice cream cart roared past me. It smashed into the costumed goblin at the controls. He bounced and slammed down on his fuzzy frog face.

  Every kid in the park cheered and laughed.

  The jumbotron beamed an instant replay.

  The dog goblin escorted me to the Ferris wheel controls. Through the dark screen over the costume’s eyeholes, I could see Victor’s handsome brown eyes.

  “Nice work, Victor,” I said.

  While the kids and goblins ooohed at the jumbotron, I snuck up the ramp to the Ferris wheel. A seat swung down. I dove onto it.

  My stomach lurched as I rose fifty feet into the air, sailing up, up, up the rickety old wheel.

  I hunched down to keep from being spotted. My teddy bear paws were slippery against the plastic seat, and I almost tumbled to my death. The seat was loose and shaky. There was no safety bar.

  I peered out at the vast horizon. From up here I could see a pair of train tracks trailing out of the back of the fun house. The cart rails zigzagged into the north, where the earth was scorched and dug up and dead. In the very distance I could see an enclosed prison-like compound where chimney stacks spewed toxic yellow mist over a gaping quarry.

  The chimney stacks that were in Liz’s picture! And that was in the direction where Emmy Banks was taken. They looked miles away, but at least I could finally see them.

  The sitter sat-phone had no reception bars, but as the Ferris wheel reached its peak and lifted me out of the amusement park, two signal bars appeared. Yes! I dialed Mama Vee, but then as the Ferris wheel descended and I dove back into the amusement park, the bars disappeared.

  “Victor, I’m going to need you to stop the Ferris wheel.”

  “Copy that,” Victor said over the walkie.

  I clutched the sitter sat-phone, waiting for the bars to reappear.

  Then thankfully: two bright bars flashed.

  “Now!”

  The ride squealed horribly and jerked to a stop. The wobbly seat toppled forward, almost spilling me out. I caught myself, the phone, and my breath. Carefully, very carefully, I sat back in the seat, hoping the ride didn’t fall apart while I was sitting on it.

  I took off my teddy bear head and dialed Mama Vee.

  She answered.

  “Kelly?” Mama Vee screamed. I could hear the fear in her voice. “Where are you?”

  “We’re okay,” I said. “But we could use a hand.”

&
nbsp; “Is that them?” Wugnot’s gruff voice bellowing in the background. “Give me the phone!”

  “Kelly, why would you do this?” Vee asked.

  She sounded desperate. I knew this was going to be bad, but I didn’t realize exactly how awful. I looked at the fence, where I could see the flash of light off Berna’s binoculars in the reeds.

  “Are you safe?” Mama Vee asked.

  “We’re doing pretty well, except for the fact that we don’t have a ride home,” I said.

  Vee sounded exasperated but focused. I could hear the sound of her picking up a pen. “Send me your coordinates. Me and Wugnot will find a boat.”

  “No boats!” I said. “The ocean around the island is protected by a trash gyre.”

  “Didn’t they make a movie out of that in the eighties?”

  “Yeah. But this one’s way more real and superdeadly.”

  “Can you get us a helicopter?” Vee asked Wugnot.

  “Not on such short notice. Unless you want to drive me down to the news station and borrow their traffic helicopter?”

  “There’s also gargoyles,” I said.

  “Gargoyles?” Wugnot said. “I hate gargoyles.”

  “Hold on. I’m patching in Elder Pressbury,” Vee said.

  “Do you have to?” I asked.

  “Unfortunately,” Mama Vee said.

  The sun was setting into a bright orange ball. A cool wind shook the rusty Ferris wheel beams. Looking down, I saw a few of the spokes had come lose and were dangling like broken chopsticks. At the very bottom Victor was arguing with the cotton-candy-handed girl, who wanted to go on the Ferris wheel.

  Click. The stern, crisp voice of Elder Pressbury came through.

  “Miss Ferguson,” she hissed.

  “Elder Pressbury, I’ll understand if you want to demote me or fine me, but we could really use your help since you have a plane.”

  “Well, I am glad I can be of service to you, Miss Ferguson.”

  Man, her sarcasm game is on point!

  “We are in need of emergency extraction,” I said.

  “Speak up, dear. Didn’t hear that,” she shot back.