Nighty-Nightmare Read Online Free PDF

worst. I was beginning to nod off, when I heard Howie’s excited voice cry out, “Look! Look, there in the mud!”
    Chester, Dawg, and I rushed to Howie’s side. There were fresh footprints.
    â€œThe prints of darkness,” Howie said ominously.
    â€œThey were made by people,” Dawg said. “I wonder if that means... yep, I’ll bet it does. We’re almost there, just like I told ya. Come on, follow me!”
    Once again, he bounded off. Howie, who was as endlessly full of energy as a rechargable battery, was quick to follow. Chester and I lagged behind.
    By the time we caught up with them, they had found what Dawg had been looking for all this time. Through an opening in the trees, we made out a large house standing in an open field. Its spires were silhouetted against a purple sky; its windows were dark but for one, which quivered with a yellow light. It seemed like something from another time and place.
    When he saw it, Chester gasped.
    â€œI’ll bet you never thought you’d see
that
in the middle of the woods,” Dawg said. “Ain’t it a sight?”
    â€œIt looks like a castle,” said Howie.
    â€œOr a cathedral,” I said.
    We turned to Chester for his response, but there was none—none other than the look of sheer horror on his face, that is.
    â€œCome on,” Dawg said, “let’s go closer.”
    â€œNo!” Chester cried.
    â€œAw, come on,” said Dawg, “don’t start that chicken stuff again.”
    â€œIt . . . it isn’t that,” Chester stuttered. He looked up at the sky. It had grown cloudier, but the light of the moon was still strong and full of power. “I’m tired, that’s all. I think maybe we should go back to camp. Do you know the way, Dawg?”
    Dawg frowned. “Well, shore, but don’t you wanta see the house? We’ve come all this way.” He turned to Howie and yawned in spite of himself. “You wanta see it, don’t you, Howie?”
    â€œHe’s stalling,” Chester whispered to me. “We’ve got to get back to camp. We don’t have much time till midnight. And the last thing wewant to do is go near that house. Anywhere but
that
house.”



“Why?” I asked. “What are you talking about?” But Chester couldn’t answer, because Dawg and Howie were looking to us for a decision.
    â€œI don’t know about you, but I’m beat,” Chester said. “What do you say we try to get some rest? Then we can go see the house, and
then
go back to camp.”
    Dawg yawned again. “Well, okay,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind setting down these weary bones for a spell. It looks like there’s some shelter over there under those leaves. Is this all right with you, little fella?”
    Howie stretched his mouth wide, trying to make his yawn as big as Dawg’s, I think. “Sure,” he said.
    As we settled in, I tried not to be hurt by the fact that Howie cuddled up to Dawg’s side instead of mine. Chester didn’t allow me any time for hurt feelings, however. “As soon as Dawg is asleep,” he whispered, “we grab Howie and run.
    â€œNighty-night,” he said to Dawg and Howie, who were curled up several feet away from us.
    â€œNighty-night,” Howie said.
    Dawg grumbled something I couldn’t make out. It might have been “nighty-night,” but garbled in some unidentifiable, macho way.
    Well, I thought, as I looked up through the leaves at the broken pattern of stars and clouds above me, here I am: middle-aged and having an adventure. It wasn’t quite what I’d had in mind when Mr. Monroe had suggested an overnight camping trip, but I was sleeping under the stars and there was no denying that an adventure was what I was having. I wondered about Mr. Monroe then. What kind of adventure was he having? I shuddered as I thought about it and wondered how long it would