“Don’t ask questions, Clark,” I replied impatiently. “It’s got to work! It’s got to!”
We started to run again.
The monster howled. Howled with rage.
“There’s the turn, Clark. Up ahead.”
The creature roared. Only steps behind us.
My heart pounded hard. My chest felt as if it were about to explode. “Grab the railing, Clark. Or else you’ll drop to the bottom. Here goes!”
We turned the corner.
We both threw our hands up. And grabbed the railing.
Our bodies slammed hard against the wall—then dangled over the black, empty hole.
The creature turned the corner.
Would my plan work? Would he fall to his death?
Was this the way to kill a monster?
The beast whirled around the corner.
Staggered on the edge of the hole.
His head jerked to face us. His eyes glowed red.
He opened his mouth in an ugly growl. He swayed, trying to keep his balance. Then he plunged down the open staircase.
I heard him land with a heavy thud.
Clark and I hung on to the rotted banister. It creaked under the strain of our weight.
My hands ached. My fingers were numb. I knew I couldn’t hold on much longer.
We listened.
Silence.
The creature didn’t move.
I looked down, but it was too dark to see.
“My fingers are slipping,” Clark groaned. Then he swung out his foot, searching with his sneaker for the hallway floor.
Hand over hand, he inched his way along the banister to the safety of the hall. I followed.
We peered down into the black hole once more. But it was so black down there—we couldn’t make out a thing. Dark and silent. Totally silent.
“We did it! We’re safe!” I cheered. “We killed the monster!”
Clark and I jumped up and down in celebration. “We did it! We did it!”
We ran downstairs. We let Charley out of the bathroom.
“Everything is okay, Charley.” I hugged my dog. “We did it, boy,” I told him. “We killed the swamp monster.”
“Let’s get out of here,” Clark urged. “We can walk to town. Call Mom and Dad from the general store. Tell them to pick us up—now!”
We were so happy, we practically danced down the steps. The three of us headed into the library. “Stand back,” I told Clark. “And hold Charley. I’ll break the window, and we’ll get out of here.”
I glanced around the room, searching for the heavy brass candlestick to break the glass. It wasn’t there.
“Wait here,” I told Clark. “I left the candlestick up in the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”
I sprinted out of the library.
I couldn’t wait to break out of this creepy place. To leave this horrible swamp. And tell Mom and Dad how stupid they were to dump us here in a house with a real, live monster inside.
I ran through the living room—to the stairs.
I jogged up three steps—and stopped.
Stopped when I heard the low groan.
