Ghost Hunt 2: MORE Chilling Tales of the Unknown (3 page)

Lyssa staggered her way across the rocks. They were big and jagged and hard to climb. Her feet kept slipping. Jason clambered along beside her. Even with his long legs, he was struggling. Jen and Mike had turned off to the right, Grant and Mark to the left. Lyssa and Jason were going straight down the middle to the ocean.

How much farther?
Lyssa wondered. The sound of the waves crashing against the rocky beach filled her ears. But Lyssa couldn’t see the water through the thick fog.

“This is Jason,” she heard him say for the benefit of the audio recorder. “I’m with Lyssa. We’re walking toward the water. The fog is coming in pretty good now. It should reach us any minute.”

He turned his head to look at Lyssa. “You okay?”

“Sure,” Lyssa said. “Absolutely.” She took a few more steps, her eyes on the white wall of mist ahead of them. Reaching, grasping, inching ever closer and closer. Once the moisture surrounded her, it would feel like being stuck in a cloud—but with no way out.

Lyssa shuddered. She hated the feeling of being trapped. She knew Jason did, too.

“Okay,” she admitted. “Well, to tell the truth, I’m not looking forward to being in the fog.”

“Just stay focused,” Jason advised. “Remember, fog can’t actually hurt you, no matter how creepy it is in the movies. When in doubt, just listen for the sound of the water.”

“Okay,” Lyssa agreed. She felt a breath of cool, damp air move past her face. And then the fog surrounded them. Lyssa and Jason struggled through it. The mist made the rocks even more slippery and dangerous.

Oof!
Without warning, Lyssa pitched forward. Her hands hit against the stones.

“Are you all right?” Jason asked at once.

“Fine,” Lyssa said as she tried to catch her breath. “I think my shoe’s untied. I must have tripped over the laces. Go on, I’ll be right behind you.”

“You’re sure?” Jason said.

“Sure,” Lyssa replied.

Jason continued toward the water. He vanished into the mist after just a few steps. Lyssa balanced as best she could, trying to get her shoe tied. Her fingers were clumsy with cold. The laces were wet. Finally, Lyssa gave up bending over. She turned around and sat gingerly on one of the stones. It took three tries before she could get the laces tied.

Finally!
Lyssa thought. She stood up.

The fog was all she could see. Lyssa was all alone. She could
feel the panic rising in her chest.
Remember what Jason said,
she told herself.
When in doubt, listen for the water.

But which way was it? It seemed to Lyssa that the sound of the ocean was all around her now.
Think!
she told herself. What had she done?
I went to tie my shoelace. I sat down.

Lyssa swung around. Back in the direction she thought the ocean was. She strained to hear… Was the sound of the waves louder that way? She honestly couldn’t tell.

“This is Lyssa,” she gasped for the recorder she was wearing. “I’m alone in the fog. I’ve lost Jason. I can’t see anybody else. I don’t know where they are. I’m going to try calling for help.”

Lyssa pulled in a breath to shout. Before she could, she heard a cry.

“Help us!”
a voice cried out.
“Somebody, please save us! Help. Help! HELP!”

“Jason, where are you? I can’t see you!” Lyssa shouted out.

She wasn’t sure, but she thought the other voice was coming from the water. Lyssa staggered toward the sound. Her foot slipped. Lyssa lost her balance and went down, hard.

She lay on her side, trying to steady her breathing. Trying to beat back the pain and fear that she felt. Slowly, carefully, Lyssa got to her feet.

But she was in a nightmare world now. The sounds of fear and panic were all around her. She could hear voices screaming
for help. Lyssa heard what sounded like a bell ringing wildly. Something groaned, like an enormous animal in pain.

“This is Lyssa,” she said once more for the recorder. “There are all these sounds. I can’t tell what’s making them. I can’t—”

Crrraaaacckk! Booooommm!

“We’re lost!”
Lyssa heard a voice cry out.
“We’re going down.”

“No,” Lyssa cried out.
“No!”

The walkie-talkie in Lyssa’s jacket pocket suddenly crackled. “Lyssa, this is Jason. Can you hear me? Come back.” In all the confusion, the pain of her fall, she’d forgotten all about the walkie-talkie.

She fished it out with trembling fingers. “Jason,” Lyssa said. “Where are you? Can you hear the voices?”

“I hear them,” Jason replied. His voice sounded grim even over the walkie-talkie. “Hold on, Lyssa. I’m heading your way. Keep talking into the walkie-talkie so I can find you.”

“Okay,” Lyssa said. The bell was ringing nonstop now. Lyssa could still hear many different voices, all crying out together. “This is Lyssa. I’m waiting for Jason. I’m hearing all these sounds. I can’t see what’s going on. If only this fog would clear, just a little.”

All of a sudden, Lyssa saw a light coming toward her. “I think I see you, Jason,” she cried. “Is that your flashlight?”

A moment later, he was at her side.

“What’s going on out there?” Lyssa gasped. “Could you see it?”

“No,” Jason said. “I’m hoping the fog breaks up at the water. It does that sometimes. I want to get down there to see if we can see anything. Can you walk?”

“Yes,” she said. Jason took Lyssa firmly by the arm to help her along. Together, they slid across the rocks.

“There!” she cried suddenly. “A break in the fog! Did you see it?”

“I saw,” Jason said. “I think we’re getting close. The rocks are getting smaller.”

A moment later, the big rocks ended. Lyssa felt large, smooth pebbles under her shoes. The sound of the waves crashing onshore was very loud now.

“Jay! Lyssa! Is that you?” she heard Grant’s voice cry.

“We’re here!” Jason called back. “Can you see anything?”

“Nothing,” Grant said. He and Mark appeared farther down the beach. “There was a big break in the fog a couple minutes ago. We got a clear view out to sea. There’s nothing there, Jay.”

“But I heard it,” Lyssa protested. “I heard somebody say,
‘We’re going down.’
There has to be a ship of some kind.”

“I guess now we know why the Coast Guard had trouble believing Tom and his grandfather’s story,” Jason said.

“Maybe there
is
a ship,” Mark said quietly. “Or was.”

Ghost ship,
Lyssa thought.

“Come on,” Grant said. “Let’s get back to the house.”

“That ought to do it,” Jen said an hour or so later. She finished wrapping a bandage around Lyssa’s knee. “I bet you’ll be sore for a few days. You really took a tumble.”

“I did, but it’s okay,” Lyssa said. She stood up, doing her best to ignore the sharp stabs of pain. “Come on. Let’s go join the others.”

“It all sounded so close,” Jason was saying as Jen and Lyssa walked into the living room.

“That’s a good way of describing it.” Grandpa George nodded. “It never occurred to me there weren’t really people out there who needed help.” He spotted Lyssa and got up to make room for her on the sofa. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’ll be just fine,” Lyssa told him. “Please don’t get up, Mr. Kelly.”

“Nonsense,” Grandpa George answered. “You sit right down. Tom.”

“On it,” Tom Kelly said. He shot to his feet, grinning at Lyssa. “Grandpa made hot chocolate. His hot chocolate is the best, even better than my mom’s.”

“Hot chocolate is my absolute favorite,” Lyssa said. She took a seat on the sofa. Tom vanished into the kitchen. A moment later, he returned with a mug of steaming hot chocolate. He handed it to Lyssa. Then he went to stand beside his grandfather.

“So,” he said, “you believe us, don’t you?”

“Absolutely, we believe you,” Jason said.

“Do you know what it is?”

“Not for certain,” Jason answered.

“What do you think it is, Tom?” Lyssa asked.

“I think it’s a shipwreck,” Tom said. “It has to be, right?”

“It sounded that way to me,” Lyssa said. “I’m sure I heard a bell. And there was this big cracking sound. Like something breaking. Something big.”

“Ship’s mast, maybe?” Grant suggested.

“All these things are possibilities,” Jason admitted. “But I think we shouldn’t get too far ahead of ourselves. We need to review the evidence and do some research. Mark can visit the historical society tomorrow. See if there’s anything there that could help explain what we all heard.”

“Can you think of anything, Mr. Kelly?” Lyssa asked.

“Well”—Grandpa George scratched his chin—“there have been shipwrecks over the years, of course. There’s a big sandbar just offshore.”

“Why isn’t there a lighthouse?” Mark asked.

“The big ships never put in here,” Grandpa George said. “It’s just not deep enough. But if a storm came up, it could blow a ship off course. That could be very dangerous.”

“I was just wondering,” Tom said, “how come you have to wait for morning? Why can’t we listen to the evidence now?”

“Because it’s late, Tom,” Grandpa George said with quiet authority. “These folks drove all day to get here. They’re cold and tired. And Lyssa is hurt.”

“I’m just as curious as Tom is,” Lyssa spoke up. She looked at her fellow team members. “Let’s just listen to the audio, okay?” she said.

“Cool,” Jen answered. “I just need a few minutes to get set up.”

“We’ve lost the mast!”
the voice on the audio shouted.
“We’re doomed! We’re going down!”

“That’s the last of it,” Jen said. She punched off the playback and the room fell silent. One by one, she had played back the evidence from the audio recorders that the team had worn that night. They all painted the same picture: a ship going down, full of desperate people fighting for their lives.

“Those poor people,” Lyssa said.

“There’s something about the voices,” Grant said. “I can’t quite put my finger on what I mean. Did anybody else notice it?”

“They sound like they’re in a movie,” Tom said excitedly. “You know, like
Pirates of the Caribbean.
”

“That’s it!” Lyssa said. “All those voices have English accents.”