The Face

R.L.STINE

Bill Schmidt

POCKET BOOKS
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com

1996 Parachute Press, Inc.

The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for the sale of this “stripped book.”

First Archway Paperback printing February 1996

Have you read the latest
FEAR STREET
® books?

DOUBLE DATE

THE THRILL CLUB

ONE EVIL SUMMER

THE MIND READER

WRONG NUMBER 2

TRUTH OR DARE

DEAD END

FINAL GRADE

SWITCHED

COLLEGE WEEKEND

THE STEPSISTER 2

WHAT HOLLY HEARD

by
R.L. STINE

Available from Archway Paperbacks

Published by Pocket Books

The Face …

The player started to dribble. Lost the ball. I saw the angry scowl on his face.

His face.

No!

He had the face—the face in my drawing!

“It's him!” I shrieked, grabbing for Adriana. “It's him! It's him!”

Another Shadyside player turned. He had the face too!

I stared at two more players.

Stared at their wavy brown hair. Their turned-up noses. Their serious, dark eyes.

They all had the face I'd been drawing.

The face of the dead boy.

And as they turned to stare back at me, their smiles faded. Their mouths twisted. Eyes bulged in horror.

They all started to scream.

And I screamed with them.

Books by R. L. Stine

Fear Street

THE NEW GIRL

THE SURPRISE PARTY

THE OVERNIGHT

MISSING

THE WRONG NUMBER

THE SLEEPWALKER

HAUNTED

HALLOWEEN PARTY

THE STEPSISTER

SKI WEEKEND

THE FIRE GAME

LIGHTS OUT

THE SECRET BEDROOM

THE KNIFE

PROM QUEEN

FIRST DATE

THE BEST FRIEND

THE CHEATER

SUNBURN

THE NEW BOY

THE DARE

BAD DREAMS

DOUBLE DATE

THE THRILL CLUB

ONE EVIL SUMMER

THE MIND READER

WRONG NUMBER 2

TRUTH OR DARE

DEAD END

FINAL GRADE

SWITCHED

COLLEGE WEEKEND

THE STEPSISTER 2

WHAT HOLLY HEARD

THE FACE

Fear Street Super Chillers

PARTY SUMMER

SILENT NIGHT

GOODNIGHT KISS

BROKEN HEARTS

SILENT NIGHT 2

THE DEAD LIFE GUARD

CHEERLEADERS: THE NEW EVIL

BAD MOONLIGHT

The Fear Street Saga

THE BETRAYAL

THE SECRET

THE BURNING

Fear Street Cheerleaders

THE FIRST EVIL

THE SECOND EVIL

THE THIRD EVIL

99 Fear Street: The House of Evil

THE FIRST HORROR

THE SECOND HORROR

THE THIRD HORROR

The Cataluna Chronicles

THE EVIL MOON

THE DARK SECRET

THE DEADLY FIRE

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HOW I BROKE UP WITH ERNIE

PHONE CALLS

CURTAINS

BROKEN DATE

Available from ARCHWAY Paperbacks

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The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for the sale of this “stripped book.”

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK
Original

An Archway Paperback published by
POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc.
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

Copyright © 1996 by Parachute Press, Inc.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

ISBN: 0-671-89428-5
eISBN: 978-1-439-12157-3

First Archway Paperback printing February 1996

10  9  8  7  6  5  4  3  2  1

FEAR STREET is a registered trademark of Parachute Press, Inc.

AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster Inc.

Cover art by Bill Schmidt

Printed in the U.S.A.

IL 7+

The Face

prologue

I
had a dream that I was drawing a silver line.

My sketch pad was propped against a white wall. And as I stared at the white paper, my hand moved slowly, steadily. And the line that I drew stretched across the page in silver.

Gleaming silver.

Cold silver.

I drew another silver line. And then a circle.

I pulled the page from the pad and smoothed my hand over the clean sheet beneath it. Then I started to draw another silver line.

In the dream, I felt a chill as the silver line stretched over the page.

I suddenly felt so cold.

Silver is a cold color. Cold as metal. Gray as winter.

Such a strange dream, I remember thinking in my dream.

I knew I was dreaming. I knew I couldn't really be drawing in such glittering silver.

I started a new line. Straight and very slender. A fine, silver line.

And as the line cut across the page, color seeped from it.

The color red.

A deep red seeped out from both sides of the silver line. Wet and glistening, the red spread over the page.

The silver line cut into the paper.

And the paper bled. The dark color spread, spread until it covered the white page.

And I woke from the dream, woke up screaming.

Why did I scream?

It was just a silver line.

Just a drawing of silver and red.

Just a dream.

So why did I scream?

I don't remember.

I really don't remember.

A
fter the accident, I guess I went into shock.

I lost a part of my memory. A piece of my past life just slipped away from me.

I don't remember anything about that week. Or the weeks that followed.

I see last fall and the early part of the winter as a dark blur. It's like watching a dim reflection in the murky waters of a deep pond.

I can see ripples. But I'm not sure of the faces. Or the movements of the dark, watery figures.

What happened that week? That day?

Why don't I remember the accident?

Dr. Sayles says my memory will return. One day
the events of that week will come back, sharp and clear.

Dr. Sayles tells me not to rush it. Sometimes I think he doesn't
want
me to remember.

Maybe it's all too horrible. Maybe I'll be sorry if I know the truth.

Maybe I'm better off not remembering. Should I be thankful for the big hole in my memory?

Dr. Sayles tells me to go on with my life. And I try to.

But my friends aren't quite the same.

Sometimes I see Justine staring at me, her pale blue eyes narrowed. As if she's studying me, trying to pry into my brain.

Adriana is always telling me to take it easy. “Take it easy, Martha.” As if I'm sick. Some kind of invalid.

Justine and Adriana seem so careful around me. They're always exchanging glances that I'm not supposed to see. They always seem to be watching me so carefully.

Watching for
what?

Watching for me to crack? Watching for poor Martha to crack open like an egg and all my insides come running out in a yellow goo?

I've had strange thoughts since the accident last fall.

I can't help it.

Dr. Sayles says it's perfectly normal.

That's me. Martha Powell. Perfectly normal. I guess I
look
normal enough. I'm average height and
I weigh about one-twenty. About right for a high school junior.

I'm kind of preppy looking. I'm more J. Crew than grunge.

I have blond hair, long and very straight. Olive eyes. Big and round. My best feature. And light freckles on my cheeks that make me look about twelve years old!

I guess I have a nice smile. I don't smile as much as I used to.

But despite my weird thoughts, despite the holes in my brain, I guess I look okay.

I'm not beautiful and dark and exotic looking like Adriana. And I'd love to have Justine's thick tangles of red hair, her full red lips, and her round, pale blue eyes.

But I look okay.

At least Aaron thinks so.

Good old Aaron. He's been so loyal to me. So caring.

I don't know what I would do without him. I'm so lucky that I've been going with him for so long.

Justine reminds me just how lucky I am nearly every day. She's a good friend. But she doesn't try to hide her jealousy.