CHAPTER ONE

Terry Welling lies in bed on a lazy Saturday afternoon. The sun is shining in his room, and his room is a bit of a mess. His clothes are all over the floor, food wrappers are piling up in his trash bucket, and his pillow is wet with drool.

He has just come off a double shift at Games 2 Go, and he hasn’t had time to tidy up his room. But right now, all he wants to do is sleep in and doesn’t want to be disturbed. He starts tossing and turning, trying desperately to sleep, until he moves his arm slightly, causing him to wake up and make a face. He grabs his arm in pain, wishing it would just stop already.

It’s been three months since he and his friends encountered Dr. Kaminko, who had disguised himself as Mayor Angus Hamilton and was embezzling the town’s money for his experiments. Three months since the house was destroyed, and three months since he broke his arm.

Though it has mostly healed, he still gets the occasional twinge of pain and he was given medicine for it. The doctor, however, told him that his arm may never be one hundred percent again; there will still be pain and it might take some physical therapy to get it back to at least seventy-five percent strength. He gets out of bed, wearing only a pair of dark red boxer shorts, opens his desk drawer, and takes out the bottle of medicine the doctor prescribed him. He goes out to the hall and enters the bathroom.

He opens the medicine bottle and puts a pill in his hand. Normally he’d just drink out of a water bottle, but right now he just wants to sleep, so he turns on the faucet, lets the water run for a few seconds, almost forgetting why he came into the bathroom in the first place, then he puts the pill in his mouth, sticks his lips to the running water, takes a huge drink from it, then swallows so the medicine can go down.

He turns the water off and looks at himself in the mirror. He notices the deep red burn mark from where Dr. Kaminko phased his hand through his chest and remembers how much it hurt.

Even though it doesn’t hurt anymore, it still reminds him of the night he and his friends discovered Kaminko’s plan. He tries so hard not to think about it, but every time he looks at the burn, it only makes him remember that scars don’t heal, no matter how much you want them to. He and his friends were lucky that night. If it weren’t for Dr. Kaminko’s son Anton, they probably would be floating endlessly in the ghost dimension right now.

Because of the mark, he won’t even go to the lake or the pool without wearing a shirt because he doesn’t want people taking pity on him or his friends for what Kaminko did to them that night. He knows that he’ll have to put up with it, eventually, because he is looking forward to the family trip to Pushaw Lake sometime in the summer. Ever since that night, his parents have been trying to spend more time with him.

They’ve been eating more dinners together, swapping stories, telling jokes, playing games like Cribbage, and just being with each other. He’s been enjoying each minute he can spend with them and is very excited for the trip to Pushaw Lake. Perhaps it’s the one place where nobody will take pity on him and ask questions non-stop. Part of him wishes he had never stepped foot in that damn house in the first place.

Perhaps if he had listened to Billy, they never would have even approached the house and it would still be standing. Then again, who knows how much more money Kaminko would have embezzled from the town? He probably would have bankrupted the entire town if it meant nobody could ruin his experiments.

He keeps looking in the mirror for a few more moments and notices his jet-black hair has grown a little past his neck and that he’s looking a little bit scruffy with a bit of a goatee growing on his face. He thinks about shaving it off, but he decides against it for now and heads back to his room so he can try and get back to sleep.

After at least three more hours of vacationing in Dream Land, his cell phone rings and shocks him awake. He grabs the phone, turns the ringer off, wishing people would just leave him alone when he’s trying to relax. He sees that his mom Julie is calling him, so he presses a button and says Hello?

Hi, honey. How’s your day going? Julie asks on the other end of the line. Groggy. Terry replies. I came home from work a few hours ago but I can’t seem to get any sleep.

Oh, I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie. Julie says empathically. Your father and I are still in town, and we’re going to grab some Chinese food for dinner tonight. Why don’t you ask Billy to come over? He likes Chinese, doesn’t he?

He does, but I think he mentioned something about a new video game he just bought.

Did he stop at the store to buy it?

No. He bought it online. He hasn’t been in the store for quite a while. My boss is starting to wonder if he’s still alive. Plus, I’m sure he’ll be up for days trying to complete it one hundred percent. In other words, I probably won’t hear from him until Monday when he’ll talk to me about the game non-stop during class and how I should play it.

I thought you like to play video games. Isn’t that one of the reasons you work at the store?

I do, and it is, but right now it’s the last thing on my mind. I don’t really have the energy to play games. For the moment, I just want to get some sleep.

Okay, hon. I’ll call you later. Love you.

Love you too, Mom. He hangs up the phone, puts it on the floor, and goes right back to sleep.

Another hour or two passes before Terry wakes up, feeling fully refreshed. He stretches for a quick second, then he decides to take a shower and heads to the bathroom. He turns on the water, waits for it to warm up, turns on a radio that sits outside the bathroom, then he undresses and steps inside the shower.

He lets out a sigh of relief as he feels the grime of the day wash off his body while the music plays on the radio. He closes his eyes and starts to imagine himself as the lead singer on stage playing the song with the rest of the band, singing while thirty thousand fans cheer their lungs out.

Wow. That would be so cool. he thinks while the water runs down his face. Having so many fans who enjoy our music AND seeing us on stage. That must be how the members of Dime Front feel every day. But if Billy were a part of the band, we wouldn’t have any fans at all. He’d need a bucket just so he could carry a tune.

He lets out a small chuckle just as he starts rinsing the shampoo out of his hair. When he’s done, he turns off the water and steps out of the shower, steam filling the room, like a fog just rolled in. He stumbles through the steam to open the door to the towel closet. He grabs a couple of towels and starts drying himself until he says to himself Good enough, then heads back to his room.

He gets dressed, his attire consisting of a black t-shirt, dark blue jeans, and a new pair of black boots he just bought. He considers drying his hair, but decides against it, thinking it’s best to just let it air-dry. He heads downstairs to the living room and notices his parents aren’t home yet. He plops on the couch, grabs the remote to the television, and turns it on. He begins flipping through channels, hoping to find something worth watching, but as he’s channel surfing, he finds himself saying the same thing repeatedly. Seen it. Seen it. Seen it. Seen it. Seen it. Seen it. Seen it. Seen it. Seen it.

Just then there’s a knock at the door, interrupting his fun time of finding nothing to watch. He gets up, walks into the kitchen, and approaches the door. His parents always emphasize to check who’s at the door before opening it when they’re not home. He looks through the peephole, and the other side of the door he sees what appears to be a female news reporter with long blonde hair, a blue jacket with a press badge on it, and beside her is a cameraman. Who is it? he asks.

Is Terry Welling home? the reporter asks.

Speaking. May I ask who you are?

Brenna Kinsley for Channel 8 News. I’m doing a follow-up story on how you and your friends exposed the corruption of the late former mayor Angus Hamilton.

Uh…I don’t know about this…did you already talk to the others?

We tried. First, we started with Billy Martin, but he wasn’t available. He said something about defeating the, uh…what did he say again, Jeff?

I believe he said the Evil Zombie Potato King. the cameraman says.

Sounds about right. Terry thinks to himself, then asks What about Allison Libby or Casey Martin?

Ms. Libby is apparently camera shy, Brenna replies, and, well, I’d rather not say anything about Ms. Martin. She has…quite the vocabulary. Terry lets out a snicker in spite of himself. "That is definitely Casey." He keeps looking out the peephole and asks, Is this really necessary?

Please, Mr. Welling, this is very important. Brenna replies. You and your friends are the only ones who know what really happened that night three months ago. Will you do it? Terry thinks about it for a few moments, wishing they would just leave, but he also knows if he doesn’t do the interview now then she’ll just keep bugging him about it until he finally gives in, so he starts to unlock the door.

Get ready with the camera! Brenna says to Jeff, and the second Terry opens the door, Jeff points the camera right in his face. Hey! What the—? Terry exclaims, trying to shield his eyes from the camera’s incredibly bright light. Jeff moves the camera over to Brenna, who is readying her microphone. He makes a counting down motion with his free hand, points to Brenna, and quietly says Action!

This is Brenna Kinsley reporting for Channel 8 News. she says with a tone that projects professionalism and confidence. I am here at the house of Terry Welling, one of the four students from Littleroot High School who, three months ago, exposed and put an end to the corruption of the town’s former mayor, Angus Hamilton. Despite failed attempts to speak with the other three students, we are lucky enough to get a follow-up interview with the brave leader of the group. She sticks the microphone in Terry’s face and begins the interview.

Mr. Welling, she begins, you and your friends were hailed as town heroes after revealing the truth about Angus Hamilton. Could you please tell us what was going through your mind during the whole ordeal?

Uh, well… Terry replied nervously. Fear. Anxiety. Curiosity. Mostly curiosity. In the beginning, I was just trying to do a report for History class. But, once we learned Hamilton may have been hiding something, we were determined to discover the truth. And the deeper we went, the more we uncovered.

And then Mayor Hamilton attempted to hold you and your friends hostage in the basement. Correct?

Um…yes. We discovered he had lied about who he really was, and he was determined to keep his identity a secret. So, he said we weren’t allowed to leave.

Brenna starts flipping through some notes she jotted down on a pad of paper and replies Right. He claimed to be the town’s legendary mad scientist Dr. Ivan Kaminko. Then the four of you managed to escape the house before it was destroyed in a mysterious explosion. Care to elaborate on it? Terry, realizing this was beginning to turn into an interrogation, starts to slowly back away from the microphone. I think I’ve answered enough questions, he says quietly. To be honest, I’d really rather not talk about this anymore.

We would really like some answers, Terry. How is it possible the four of you escaped the house before the explosion? She shoves the microphone even further in Terry’s face. Is it true you caused the explosion because you had a deep hatred for Mayor Hamilton?

What?! No! Why would you say—

Mayor Hamilton claimed you and your friend Billy Martin tried to break into his mansion a couple of nights before you went into Dr. Kaminko’s house. You were labeled as punk delinquents and the entire town hated you. Is that why you blew up the house?

I didn’t blow up the house. I have no reason to do such a thing.

Then why won’t you answer the question? You and your friends are the only ones who know what really happened that night. And what was the deal with claiming you saw the ghost of Dr. Kaminko’s son Anton?

Please. Stop. I don’t want to—

So, do you admit to destroying the house of Littleroot’s most infamous urban legend? What led you to such an action? Then, before she knew it, Terry walks back into his house and starts to shut the door in her face. I’ve more than answered enough of your questions, Ms. Kinsley. he replies. Please leave now.

But, Mr. Welling— Brenna begins, but before she could finish her sentence, the door closes completely shut, and she hears the faint sounds of the door’s locks clicking. She starts to knock on the door in frustration in hopes Terry will come back outside, but there’s no answer. She then motions to Jeff, who proceeds to turn off the camera.

One way or another, Mr. Welling, she shouts, we WILL get to the truth! You can’t hide forever! She and Jeff head back to their news van, while Terry watches them through the peephole. He sees them leave, relieved, then heads back into the living room and lays down on the couch. He puts his arm over his eyes and lets out a loud sigh, wishing the people of the town would start talking about something else other than Dr. Kaminko’s house for a change.

CHAPTER TWO

Monday rolls around, and that can only mean one thing. A new week at Littleroot High School has begun, but Billy Martin wishes it was still Sunday. Or at least Saturday. He was so close to completing his new game, Zombie Potato Warfare, but now he must endure the same old classes and the same old people he sees every single day.

He wishes something exciting would happen, but it’s been kind of boring since the night at Dr. Kaminko’s house. He wishes to forget that night ever happened, but it’s proven to be very hard to do. The second someone walks into the main lobby of the school, the first thing they see is a huge trophy case with every award the school has ever won, ranging from sports tournaments to special accommodations past students have received over the years.

The latest addition is a framed copy of the newspaper of the town’s new mayor, Barbara Daniels, awarding them for their hard work in exposing the corruption of her predecessor, Angus Hamilton.

At first, he liked all the attention he was getting; people opening doors for him, doing his homework, even giving him food at lunch time. However, even though the attention was much positive than what he normally gets as the school’s Prankster Prince, he began to feel a little crowded as time went by.

His fellow students started following him and his friends everywhere. They couldn’t even use the restroom without accompanying them in some way. They could be in the stall when a classmate would start asking them questions such as Was it scary to be in that house? and Did you really see the ghost of Dr. Kaminko’s son?

Eventually the praise began to feel like harassment, and Billy finally reached his boiling point. Normally he’d never hurt a fly but, one day at lunch, all he wanted was to eat in peace. He never got the chance when a group of students gathered around him and Terry to watch them eat, as if there was something remarkable about their eating habits and got to the point where he started to feel claustrophobic. He had trouble breathing and was getting incredibly uncomfortable.

What exactly was it that made him snap? A student who took pictures for the school’s newspaper, the Littleroot High Weekly, shoved their camera in Billy’s face. Terry tried calming Billy down, but to no avail. He put his fork down, slid his tray to the side, stood up, and punched the student right in the face, breaking the camera in the process.

The principal, Mrs. Doyle, suspended him for three days, but she could understand why he hit the student. He, like the others, just wanted to be left alone and forget about Dr. Kaminko’s house. They couldn’t get any privacy anymore, not even at their own homes.

Luckily, Billy’s father, Gene Martin, is the town sheriff. He said he would arrest anyone, mostly the press, who came to their house, or those of his son’s friends, asking questions about Dr. Kaminko. Mrs. Doyle announced that, during school hours, Dr. Kaminko was not to be mentioned or discussed in class. She even said she would give detention to anyone who hounded Billy and his friends about that night. She was also beginning to get tired of hearing about Dr. Kaminko. She felt like it was watching a rerun on TV; when it first happens, it’s great, but when it was on non-stop, it would drive you crazy and make you wish there was something else to talk about.

Billy walked past the trophy case and approached the hall just in time to see Terry struggling to open his locker when he grabbed his arm and dropped his book. Billy quickly walked up to him and picked up the book.

Hey, buddy. Lose something? he said with a sly grin across his face. Terry grabs the book, putting it back in his locker, and replies Thanks, Billy. As he shuts the locker door, Billy asks Is that a new book? Terry shakes his head. Nope. It’s a classic, he replied. "The Adventures of Tom Sawyer by Mark Twain."

What are you doing with a book like that?

I bought it to read during summer vacation. I guess I forgot I had it in my backpack.

Summer vacation sounds good right now.

We still have a month left before school’s out, Billy.

Don’t remind me. So, I heard some reporter was bugging you the other day.

Yeah. Brenna Kinsley from Channel 8 News. She wanted to do an interview about Dr. Kaminko. Billy rolls his eyes. When will people stop talking about that stupid house? My ribs hurt just thinking about it.

I can imagine. How are they, anyway?

Billy pats his stomach. Just dip them in barbecue sauce and dinner will be served.

Very funny.

I thought it was. How’s the arm?

I won’t be playing professional basketball anytime soon.

You suck at basketball. I’ve seen your free throws, Shaq.

Shut up. You’re not exactly Michael Jordan on the court, either. Besides, didn’t that reporter try to interview you first?

Actually, she tried Casey first. But she used some words I promised my parents I would never use. Plus, I was busy playing my new game.

That reminds me. How are you doing on it?

Billy holds up a hand. Just five levels to go and I can finally face the Zombie Potato King.

May I ask why you didn’t pick it up at the store? I would’ve given you a discount so you don’t have to pay full price. Billy looks away. I don’t know, Terry. I just…didn’t feel like going anywhere. I wasn’t really in the mood to leave the house.

Fair enough.

When the reporter was bugging you, why didn’t you call my dad? He would’ve made sure she’d leave you alone. That’s his job, after all.

Terry lets out a soft sigh and replies Your dad’s job is to keep the town safe. He’s got more important things to do than arrest nosey reporters.

Like what? Figure out who stole the last sprinkled donut?

I’m serious. But she did say something about getting to the truth, whatever that means. So, if she comes to my house again, I’ll be sure to give your dad a call.

Billy then turns around and points to his backpack. Hey, Terry. Can you reach in there and grab something for me? Terry replies Sure thing, buddy. He puts his hand inside and starts fumbling around, not sure what he’s looking for, until he grabs something and pulls it out. In his hand is a black beret. Confused, Terry asks Billy? Is this what you wanted me to grab?

Yup. I’m going to wear it to impress the French teacher. Still confused, Terry asks Umm…WHY? You hate French class! Billy puts on the beret and remarks I don’t hate it…anymore. I just have a new-found appreciation for the language. With this baret, she’s sure to notice me now!

Billy, wearing a hat doesn’t mean she’s going to… Terry stops for a moment, blinks twice, and says What did you just say? Billy adjusts his beret.