Free Field of Screams by R.L. Stine

felt the horrible wave of coldness again.
    Then his fingers slid into my flesh.
    They actually dipped into my skull!
    â€œNoooo!” I yelled.
    Icy fingers probed at my brain. Numbness stole over me. The world started to go dark.
    This is it! I thought. I’ve had it!
    Then I guess Buddy Gibson and I. . . merged.
    It was the weirdest thing I ever experienced. All at once, I felt—bigger. Stronger. Faster.
    I flexed my fingers. My hands felt as if I’d just taken off a pair of thick gloves.
    For the first time, I really fit into Gibson’s body.
    I lay there on my back, breathing deeply. Energy pulsed through me.
    Suddenly I felt a jolt of panic. Somehow I knew it wasn’t coming from me.
    â€œYou’re really from the future?” Gibson’s voice gasped. “And we’re really going to be in a bus crash this afternoon?”
    His voice echoed off the inside of my skull. It wasn’t a very comfortable feeling.
    But at least I finally got someone to believe me!
    â€œThat’s right. We all die—unless we win this game,” I told him. I spoke out loud. It just seemed like the thing to do.
    He didn’t say anything. I couldn’t tell whether he was even still in there.
    â€œGibson? Are you still there?” I asked.
    There was no answer.
    I climbed cautiously to my feet and brushed myself off.
    From the distance I heard Boog shout, “Get a move on, Buddy!”
    The game! I grabbed the coach’s cigarettes and ran. Maybe Gibson believed me. Maybe he didn’t—and he was going to try to get me again.
    But I couldn’t worry about him now.
    I still had a game to win!

21

    I raced back to the ball field. “What’s up?” I asked Johnny Beans.
    â€œWe got our third out already,” he told me, shaking his head. “This game isn’t going so well.”
    I grabbed my glove and hustled out to third base. I felt nervous. Antsy. I stalked around my base. “Come on, hit it my way,” I muttered.
    What was going on? I didn’t usually feel like this.
    â€œWake up, man!” a voice snapped in my head. “We’ve got to win this game!”
    â€œGibson!” I exclaimed.
    â€œNo, it’s the tooth fairy. Of course it’s me! What, did you think I was going to skip the big game?”
    He was still with me! Right there in my head!
    At least he wasn’t attacking me.
    Not yet anyway.
    â€œHeads up!” Gibson yelled. I jumped and glanced around wildly.
    The ball whizzed past, near second base. A line drive. Straight to the hole in our outfield. This was bad. The Wildcats could get a triple.
    Then I saw Boog. He raced across the field as if his shoes were on fire. He dove—and scooped the ball with his glove just before it hit the ground.
    â€œDo it, Boog!” I yelled. What a play!
    For the rest of the inning, Gibson kept quiet. I didn’t know whether he was there inside me or not. But I didn’t have much time to worry about it. I had to concentrate on the game!
    At the top of the ninth, the score was five to three. We had two outs, and runners on first and second. I was on deck.
    Then Billy Fein singled. Bases were loaded, and I was up.
    As I stepped to home plate, I felt a surge of determination. I swung the bat and stared out at the pitcher.
    I knew, I knew I was going to nail it.
    That was Gibson inside me, I realized suddenly. He had a kind of confidence I’d never felt before. But I could feel it now.
    He was working with me! Helping me!
    The pitcher came at me with a hanging curveball. I grinned and clobbered that sucker.
    I didn’t even bother to watch it. I just tossed the bat aside and trotted the bases.
    â€œGrand slam homer!” Boog roared from the dugout. “Gibson! Gibson!”
    The batter after me struck out. Our side was retired. “So what?” Boog remarked as we trotted out to the field. “We’re two runs up. The trophy is ours!”
    But I