The Curse of the Campfire Weenies Read Online Free Page B

again. The hot dog shot from my throat. I gulped air, feeling the dark mist swirl away as my brain drank oxygen.
    Dad turned me around and stared at me. “Are you okay?”
    I tried to answer, but my throat hurt. I nodded.
    His face was pale. “I was so scared,” he said. “I thought I’d lost you.” Behind him, Mom stood speechless in the hallway.
    â€œI’m here,” I whispered.
    â€œMaybe we should skip the game,” he said.
    I shook my head. “No. I want to play.” I’d be all right.
    â€œYou sure?”
    â€œYeah.”
    As I sat on my bed and caught my breath, I thought about the game I’d left. I figured there’d be a sub for me. There were probably plenty of players. I wondered whether we’d won or lost. Or whether the score was still tied. But I was pretty sure it didn’t matter. I didn’t get home because I broke the tie. I didn’t come back because we’d won or lost. I got home because I wanted it badly enough to do whatever I had to do to get here.
    As I walked downstairs, I saw a news bulletin on television. There was a reporter standing in front of a hospital halfway across the country.
    â€œDoctors say he just regained consciousness,” the reporter said. There was a small picture in the corner of the screen, with a caption under it. Innocent bystander shot during holdup.

    â€œGlad you made it, Kent,” I whispered. I wondered how many more innings he’d had to go through.
    â€œReady to play a little ball?” Dad asked.
    â€œReady to play a lot,” I said.

PREDATORS
    M om only lets me go online for an hour each day. “There are a lot of predators out there,” she’s always saying. I know. The world is full of dangers. But I really need to meet some new people. And the Internet is so much better and faster than anything else.
    I hang out at Dark DimenXion. That’s a place for fantasy and horror fans. My name is Kirby12. But that’s not my real name. I’m too smart to let personal information slip. My real name is Danny. Though the “12” part is sort of accurate.
    I made good use of my hour yesterday. I have a new friend. His name is DarkFan43. He told me he’s twelve, too. His mom doesn’t let him go online very much, either. When I logged on just now, I was afraid he wouldn’t be there. But he was. So we chatted. We have a lot in common. He likes all the same stuff I do.
    I found out he lives in Milford. That’s the next town
over from me. I didn’t tell him the name of my town. I’m too smart for that. But I told him I lived near his town.

    DarkFan43 : I wish I could spend more time online.
    Kirby12: Me, too. It would be fun.
    DarkFan43 : Too bad we can’t hang out.
    Kirby12: Yeah.
    DarkFan43 : Maybe we could meet somewhere.
    Kirby12: That would be cool.
    DarkFan43 : How about the old quarry? Do you live near there?
    Kirby12: Yeah. Real close.
    DarkFan43 : Want to meet me there later today?
    Kirby12: My mom won’t let me go out.
    DarkFan43 : She just doesn’t want you to have any fun.
    Kirby12: That’s for sure.
    DarkFan43 : Could you sneak out at night?
    Kirby12: I might get in trouble.
    DarkFan43 : Come on. Don’t be such a baby.
    Kirby12: Okay. I’ll try.

    We decided to meet at the north entrance to the quarry, where the fence is broken, at 10:00. Mom would be busy then. I’d have no trouble sneaking out. The quarry is close enough for me to walk there. I couldn’t wait to meet DarkFan.
    I arrived early—around 9:45—but someone was already there, standing in the shadows away from the lights by the gate. I walked toward him but stopped when I was
still within the pool of light. I wanted to make sure he could see me clearly.
    â€œDarkFan?” I asked.
    He nodded. “Kirby?”
    â€œYup.”
    â€œI’m not twelve,” he said. “That was a teeny lie.”
    I’d figured he