Read Online 40 - Night of the Living Dummy III by R.L. Stine - (ebook by Undead) - Free Book Online

stretched out on the floor, resting against the
back of the couch. As we talked, we waited—and listened. Listened to every
sound.
    It was nearly midnight, but I didn’t feel sleepy. I felt alert. Ready for
anything.
    Ready to catch Zane in the act once again.
    This time, I brought my little flash camera with me. When Zane crept up here
to carry one of the dummies downstairs, I’d snap his photo. Then I’d have proof
to show Mom and Dad.
    Yes, I finally decided that Dan was right. Zane had to be the one who was
destroying our house.
    Destroying our house and trying to scare everyone into thinking the dummies
had come to life.
    “But why?” I whispered to Dan. “Did we scare Zane so badly the last time he
was here? So badly that he’ll do anything to pay us back?”
    “He’s sick,” Dan muttered. “That’s the only answer. He’s totally messed up.”
    “So messed up that he wrecked his own camera,” I murmured, shaking my head.
    “So messed up that he ran downstairs and trashed the dining room,” Dan added.
    The dining room. That’s what convinced me that Zane was guilty.
    All of us were upstairs in Zane’s room, examining his broken camera.
    Zane was the only other person downstairs.
    Zane was the only person in the house who could have trashed the dining room
and wrecked the dinner.
    Of course he acted horrified and shocked. Of course he acted as if he didn’t
have a clue about what had happened.
    What a sad, sad night.
    The dinner guests didn’t know what to say to Mom and Dad. It was such a
frightening mystery. No one had an answer.
    The guests helped clean up the mess. The food was ruined. It couldn’t be
eaten. No one felt like eating, anyway.
    Everyone left as soon as the dining room was cleaned and cleared.
    As the last guest left, I turned to Dan. “Uh-oh,” I whispered. “Family
Conference Time. We’re in for a major lecture now.”
    But I was wrong. Mom hurried up to her room. And Dad said he was too
disgusted to talk to anyone.
    Uncle Cal asked if Dad would like him to take the car and pick up some fried
chicken or hamburgers or something.
    Dad just scowled at him and stomped away. He carried Smiley and Wilbur up to
the attic. I heard him slam the attic door. Then he disappeared into the bedroom
to help comfort Mom.
    Zane turned to his dad. “I-I can’t believe my good camera is smashed,” he
whimpered.
    Uncle Cal placed a hand on Zane’s shoulder. “I’ll bet your uncle Danny has a
new camera at his shop that he’ll want to give you.”
    “But I liked my old camera!” Zane wailed.
    And that’s when I decided he was guilty. He’s a phony, I decided. He’s
carrying on like this—putting on a show for Dan and me.
    But I wasn’t going to fall for it. No way.
    I made sure I had film in my little camera. Then I grabbed Dan and we crept
up to the attic to wait. To wait in the darkness and catch Zane.
    To end the disasters in our house once and for all.
    We didn’t have to wait long.
    After about half an hour, I heard the tap of soft footsteps on the attic
floor.
    I sucked in my breath. My whole body tensed, and I nearly dropped the camera.
    Beside me, Dan raised himself to his knees.
    My heart pounding, I crept to the edge of the couch.
    Tap tap. Shuffling footsteps on the bare floorboards.
    I saw a dark figure bend down and lift a dummy off a chair.
    “It’s Zane,” I whispered to Dan. “I knew it!”
    In the heavy darkness, I could see him carrying the dummy to the stairs.
    I stood up. My legs trembled. But I moved quickly.
    I raised the camera. Stepped in front of the couch.
    Pushed the shutter button.
    The room flashed in an explosion of white light.
    I clicked off another one.
    Another bright white flash.
    And in the flash, I saw Rocky dangling over Zane’s shoulder.
    No.
    Not Zane!
    Not Zane. Not Zane.
    In the flash of light, I saw Rocky dangling over another dummy’s shoulder!
    Smiley! The new dummy.
    The new dummy was shuffling toward the stairs, carrying