Teddy watched the van for a long while, not trusting that it would stay dead. Then he smelled smoke.

It was a harsh, mustard smell that burned its way into his nose. He turned back toward the tree. Yellowish smoke was snaking out of a gash in the bark.

And—strange!—Teddy felt himself drawn forward, drawn toward the burning wood.

When he came closer, the smoke stopped. Teddy reached out a finger and cautiously traced the tree's wound. There was moss around the edges of the cut.

Scared but unable to stop himself, Teddy rolled up his left shirtsleeve. Then he reached his hand into the narrow gash in the wood.

He hated to think what might be living in that hole—Spiders? Snakes?—but he kept inching his fingers in farther. Farther. What was wrong with him? He wasn't himself, he thought, as he sunk his entire forearm into the tree.

And then an awful thought occurred to him.

The tree was going to clamp down on his arm and bite it off. He was sure of it.

He giggled hysterically.

Because he now realized what had made the van start itself like it had.

He had lost his mind, that's what had happened. Too many years of lonely adolescence without a girlfriend had driven him bonkers. He was seeing things. He was dreaming while awake.

Which meant it was perfectly safe for him to stick his hand the rest of the way into the tree.

He pushed his fingertips forward, wiggling them. The slash in the wood got even narrower as it went back. He had to press hard.
And then suddenly, Teddy's hand slipped forward, so that his arm disappeared up to his shoulder and his face smacked into the tree's rough bark, dislodging his glasses.

At the same second his fingers closed around something hard and smooth.

And the second after that—

Something inside the tree sank its teeth deep into the palm of his hand

   Chapter 10

With a shout, Teddy yanked his hand out of the tree.

There was something attached to his hand! Something white and round like a giant crab. Whatever it was, it was biting him! The pain thrilled up his arm and screamed throughout his entire body.

Teddy waved his hand wildly. But then the pain stopped, and he looked at the object more closely. He was holding a mask. A white hockey mask pitted with dark black holes. The mask wasn't biting him. How could it? It was just a piece of plastic. It must have been his imagination, must have been the bark of the tree scratching his hand.

And then Teddy's legs went wobbly. He began to stagger from tree to tree, trying to hold himself upright by grabbing onto vines, tree trunks, saplings, plants. So strange! In his head, it was as if he were hearing and feeling hundreds of tiny creatures flapping their furry wings. In his mind's eye, he saw a hundred bats pouring out of the dark mouth of their cave home.

Then he gasped in pain. And when he looked down, he saw to his horror that a large, round bulge was inching slowly up his wrist, up his skinny arm. It was as if the mask had put something into his bloodstream. Whatever it was, it was snaking its way up, up, up toward his heart. And there was a voice in his head now—a boy's voice, but not his own—and the voice was telling him that his only hope was to put the mask on.

Put the mask on now.

Feeling faint, Teddy slipped the mask onto his head.

Instantly, he started screaming in pain. He staggered down the ravine, fell, rolling in the wet leaves, tumbling all the way down to the van. He grabbed the van's door handle, pulled himself up, but then the pain started again. He crashed back into the van, shouting in agony. He arched his back. His arms raised themselves in the air like paws, then slapped onto the mask from both sides.

But he couldn't get the mask off. And then he realized that he didn't want to take the mask off.

Teddy groaned with pleasure. Suddenly, he was feeling stronger every second. He looked down in amazement at his skinny arms as the biceps popped out, first the left, then the right, like that moment when a balloon first begins to inflate. There was a loud scrape of skin against metal as his body spurted up several inches in height. He yelled in agony as his bones stretched.

Teddy flexed his hands.

They were hairy now.

They felt strong enough to rip the heads off the biggest jocks in the world.

   Friday the 13th: Road Trip, chapter 11