Read Online 29 - Monster Blood III by R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead) - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead)
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Brian on the pitcher’s mound. Brian’s eyes bulged in fear
as Evan drew near. Brian raised his hands to shield himself. “Don’t hurt me!” he
pleaded.
“Hey—it’s Evan!” Billy exclaimed. “Look, guys! It’s Evan!”
Kids from both teams gathered around, murmuring excitedly, nervously.
Brian slowly lowered his hands and stared up at the giant Evan. “Wow! It
really is you! Evan—how did you do that?”
“What happened to you?” another kid cried.
“He’s been working out!” Andy told them.
The kids laughed. Very tense laughter.
Andy always has a joke for everything, Evan thought.
“Uh… want to play?” Brian asked. “You can be on my team.”
“No. My team!” Billy insisted.
“No way! He’s on my team!” Brian shouted. “We’re one man short, remember?”
“Don’t say short around Evan!” Andy joked.
Everyone laughed again.
Billy and Brian continued to fight over which team would get Evan. Evan stood
back and enjoyed the argument. He picked up a wooden bat. It had always seemed
so heavy before. Now it felt as light as a pencil.
Billy won the argument. “You can bat now, Evan,” he said, grinning up at him.
“How can I pitch to him? He’s a giant!” Brian complained.
“Pitch it really high,” Evan suggested.
“Evan, do your mom and dad know you grew like this?” Billy asked, walking to
home plate beside Evan.
Evan swallowed hard. He hadn’t thought about his parents. They’d be getting
home from work soon. They weren’t going to be happy about this. How would he
break the news to them? he wondered.
And then he thought: I won’t have to break the news to them. They’ll
see for themselves what has happened!
He stepped up to the plate and swung the bat onto his shoulder. “Wish we had
a bigger bat,” he muttered. It was a little larger than a drinking straw.
“Get a hit!” Billy shouted from behind the backstop.
“Get a hit, Evan!” several other players called.
Brian’s first pitch sailed past Evan’s ankles.
“Higher!” Evan called out to him. “You’ll have to throw it higher.”
“I’m trying!” Brian grumbled. He pulled the softball back and tossed it
again.
This time, the pitch flew past Evan’s knees.
“It’s hard to throw that high,” Brian complained. “This isn’t fair.”
“Strike him out, Brian!” the first baseman cried. “You can do it. Evan always
strikes out!”
It’s true, Evan thought unhappily. I do usually strike out.
He gripped the little bat tighter, poising it over his shoulder. He suddenly
wondered if being so big would make a difference.
Maybe he’d just strike out bigger !
Brian’s next pitch sailed higher. Evan swung hard. The bat hit the softball
with a deafening thwack —and cracked in two.
The ball sailed up, up, up. Off the playground. Over the school. And out of
sight, somewhere in the next block.
Cheers and cries of amazement rang out over the diamond.
Evan watched the ball fly out of sight. Then he leaped joyfully in the air
and began running the bases.
The longest home run in the history of the world!
It took only four steps between bases. He had just rounded second base when he heard the sirens.
Evan turned his eyes to the street in time to see two fire trucks squeal
around the corner. The trucks pulled right up onto the playground grass and came
roaring toward the softball diamond, sirens blaring.
Evan stopped at third base.
The sirens cut off as the two fire engines skidded to a halt along the first
base line.
Evan’s mouth dropped open as Conan Barber leaped out of the first truck.
Several black-uniformed firefighters dropped to the ground behind Conan.
“There he is!” Conan cried, pointing furiously at Evan. “That’s him! Get
him!”
20
Grim-faced firefighters began hoisting heavy firehoses off the trucks. Others
moved toward Evan, hatchets clutched menacingly in their hands.
“That’s him!” Conan shrieked. “He’s the one who put me in
as Evan drew near. Brian raised his hands to shield himself. “Don’t hurt me!” he
pleaded.
“Hey—it’s Evan!” Billy exclaimed. “Look, guys! It’s Evan!”
Kids from both teams gathered around, murmuring excitedly, nervously.
Brian slowly lowered his hands and stared up at the giant Evan. “Wow! It
really is you! Evan—how did you do that?”
“What happened to you?” another kid cried.
“He’s been working out!” Andy told them.
The kids laughed. Very tense laughter.
Andy always has a joke for everything, Evan thought.
“Uh… want to play?” Brian asked. “You can be on my team.”
“No. My team!” Billy insisted.
“No way! He’s on my team!” Brian shouted. “We’re one man short, remember?”
“Don’t say short around Evan!” Andy joked.
Everyone laughed again.
Billy and Brian continued to fight over which team would get Evan. Evan stood
back and enjoyed the argument. He picked up a wooden bat. It had always seemed
so heavy before. Now it felt as light as a pencil.
Billy won the argument. “You can bat now, Evan,” he said, grinning up at him.
“How can I pitch to him? He’s a giant!” Brian complained.
“Pitch it really high,” Evan suggested.
“Evan, do your mom and dad know you grew like this?” Billy asked, walking to
home plate beside Evan.
Evan swallowed hard. He hadn’t thought about his parents. They’d be getting
home from work soon. They weren’t going to be happy about this. How would he
break the news to them? he wondered.
And then he thought: I won’t have to break the news to them. They’ll
see for themselves what has happened!
He stepped up to the plate and swung the bat onto his shoulder. “Wish we had
a bigger bat,” he muttered. It was a little larger than a drinking straw.
“Get a hit!” Billy shouted from behind the backstop.
“Get a hit, Evan!” several other players called.
Brian’s first pitch sailed past Evan’s ankles.
“Higher!” Evan called out to him. “You’ll have to throw it higher.”
“I’m trying!” Brian grumbled. He pulled the softball back and tossed it
again.
This time, the pitch flew past Evan’s knees.
“It’s hard to throw that high,” Brian complained. “This isn’t fair.”
“Strike him out, Brian!” the first baseman cried. “You can do it. Evan always
strikes out!”
It’s true, Evan thought unhappily. I do usually strike out.
He gripped the little bat tighter, poising it over his shoulder. He suddenly
wondered if being so big would make a difference.
Maybe he’d just strike out bigger !
Brian’s next pitch sailed higher. Evan swung hard. The bat hit the softball
with a deafening thwack —and cracked in two.
The ball sailed up, up, up. Off the playground. Over the school. And out of
sight, somewhere in the next block.
Cheers and cries of amazement rang out over the diamond.
Evan watched the ball fly out of sight. Then he leaped joyfully in the air
and began running the bases.
The longest home run in the history of the world!
It took only four steps between bases. He had just rounded second base when he heard the sirens.
Evan turned his eyes to the street in time to see two fire trucks squeal
around the corner. The trucks pulled right up onto the playground grass and came
roaring toward the softball diamond, sirens blaring.
Evan stopped at third base.
The sirens cut off as the two fire engines skidded to a halt along the first
base line.
Evan’s mouth dropped open as Conan Barber leaped out of the first truck.
Several black-uniformed firefighters dropped to the ground behind Conan.
“There he is!” Conan cried, pointing furiously at Evan. “That’s him! Get
him!”
20
Grim-faced firefighters began hoisting heavy firehoses off the trucks. Others
moved toward Evan, hatchets clutched menacingly in their hands.
“That’s him!” Conan shrieked. “He’s the one who put me in
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