DON’T MISS THE SECOND SCARY TALES BOOK …

ENTER THE WORLD OF SAMANTHA CARVER, AN ORDINARY KID WHO LOVES AMUSEMENT PARKS, THE SMELL OF POPCORN, AND THE JOYFUL TERROR OF A HEART-POUNDING RIDE.

SAM’S GOT A TICKET IN HER POCKET FOR A VERY SPECIAL RIDE. SOON, THIS TICKET, RIPPED IN HALF, WILL SIGNAL THE BEGINNING OF A MOST UNUSUAL ADVENTURE—AND LEAVE SAM, ALONG WITH A BOY NAMED ANDY, SCREAMING FOR THEIR LIVES.

SO, COME ALONG. TAKE A SEAT. BUCKLE UP, NICE AND TIGHT. IT’S SURE TO BE A BUMPY RIDE. AND IF YOU NEED ANYTHING—ANYTHING AT ALL—JUST SCREAM.

THINGS GO VERY WRONG

Sam was harnessed into an open, two-seat vehicle. It looked like an old coal-mining car, big wheels on a primitive track. Nothing fancy about it. Sam felt a pang of disappointment. This wasn’t what she’d expected.

Next to her sat the pale-faced boy. Up close, Sam noticed that his skin was flawless, perfectly smooth. He never looked Sam in the eyes. There was something else, too, something stiff about his manner. He stared forward as if he were waiting for a bus.

Two workers in orange flight suits walked around, checking on the eight cars, making sure each passenger was safely strapped in.

Sam glanced around the warehouse. It was gray, almost plain. “Is this … it?” she asked a bearded worker.

He laughed. “No worries, Missy. We haven’t put in all the finishing touches. Grand openings are like that. This here is only a shuttle car that will carry you through a tunnel of solid rock. When you arrive at the loading zone, my colleagues will lead you into a high tower. No one can see this tower from the road, by the way, because it looks exactly like a massive oak tree.” He flashed a gold tooth. “That’s when you enter the dragon’s mouth.”

He jabbed a wicker basket in Sam’s direction. “No cell phones.”

“Really?”

“Really,” the man confirmed. “Messes with the electronics, like on airplanes. Besides, Mr. Overstreet does not allow photography.”

Sam reluctantly placed the phone into the basket. The cell represented Sam’s connection to her parents and her friends. By handing over the phone, Sam said good-bye to the outside world.

“Ready?” the man asked.

Before Sam could answer, the car lurched forward and her back pressed against the seat.

They clanked and rattled along the track. The car sloped down into an underground tunnel, lit by green floor lights.

Sam liked the fluorescent lights and the trapped feeling of the tunnel; she felt like she was being swallowed by a great beast. “This is cool.” She smiled at the boy.

He didn’t answer, just gripped the front rail of the car.

“I’m Sammy, or Sam, just not Samantha. Oh, I don’t care, take your pick!” she said cheerfully. “What’s your name?”