The Final Nightmare (2 page)

Sally's lower lip trembled.

I felt bad but I had to try to make Sally understand the danger. The ghosts were already dead. Why should they care what happened to living people?

Sally and I followed the sound of voices into the kitchen. Mom was on the phone to the hospital. She looked pale and worried.

“Thank God,” she said when she hung up the phone. “They said Katie will be okay. Her parents are already at the hospital.”

Relief made my knees turn rubbery. And for some strange reason my stomach felt swirly, like I was going to throw up.

“Jay?” Dad asked. “Are you okay?”

I nodded and took a deep breath.

“You're both exhausted,” Mom said. “Why don't you guys take a quick nap while your father and I finish unpacking? We'll wake you up in an hour or so and we'll all have a big breakfast. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good, Mom,” I said, yawning. She was right. I
was
exhausted.

I walked my little sister upstairs and put her to bed. She hugged her stuffed bunny and was asleep before her head hit the pillow.

Out in the hallway I was heading for my bedroom when a door creaked open behind me.

I turned. The attic door had swung open. A cool breeze came down the attic stairs.

Forget it, Jason, I told myself. Go to bed.

But something drew me to that attic door. Why was a breeze coming down from up there? I had to find out.

My feet made not a sound on the steps. Not even a creak.

Sunlight shone yellow through the opening at the top of the stairs. I could see dust hanging thick in the air like a misty curtain.

I stepped into the attic.

I gasped in surprise. And instantly bent over coughing as the dust flowed down my throat. But I didn't care.

The attic was a wreck!

The walls were totally smashed in. There were big holes in the floor.

And Bobby's rocking chair was still there!

The little rocking chair was the only thing that wasn't smashed to bits—everything else was broken or damaged.

Even my parents would have to believe the house was really haunted when they saw this!

I was about to yell for my dad. Then I heard something move behind me. A rustling, sneaky sound in the shadows.

The back of my neck tingled.

I was slowly turning around to look when a horrible voice spoke right by my ear. A creaky, raspy voice of the undead.

“
You!
” it shrieked. “
It's all your fault! I'll get you! I'll get you for good!
”

I spun around. My heart leaped into my throat.

The witch-thing was there, eyes glowing from inside her black cloak. The same creature who haunted the place in the dark.

“
ARGGGGHHHHH!
”

It charged straight for me, snarling.

I was frozen to the spot.

Her eyes burned with fury.

One gnarled claw reached for my throat. In the other she held the sledgehammer. The same hammer that had smashed these walls to bits.

She cackled. Her black eyes glittered with vengeful glee.

I couldn't move.

Cold, bony fingers closed around my neck.

The last thing I saw was the blur of the sledgehammer. Then the world went black.

5

Everything hurt. I was afraid to open my eyes and look.

I strained my ears. Was the witch-thing still there? I couldn't hear a thing.

But I felt her crouching over me, waiting. As soon as I opened my eyes she would pounce.

I lay there for what seemed like forever. My nose began to itch. Then my knee. I tried to work out a plan but the itching filled my whole head. I had to move.

Very carefully I opened my eyes a slit. No witch. I moved my head an inch. Nobody there.

I blew out my breath and jumped up, scratching all over.

Ouch!

She must have really knocked me with that sledgehammer. I hurt in places I didn't know I had.

But she hadn't killed me, even though I knew I had seen murder in her eyes. Maybe she was weaker in the daytime. Yes, that was probably it! The sun sapped her strength.

I hobbled toward the door, working out a new plan in my head. A way to stop the haunting!

Then I heard a thud downstairs. And another.

The floor began to shake with the force of these new blows. Was the witch-thing taking her sledgehammer to the living room?

I was tempted to stay hidden up here until the noise stopped. But whatever was happening downstairs, Mom and Dad would think I was responsible.

I had to try to stop it.

Before I could change my mind, I left the attic. Pausing in the second floor hallway, I couldn't hear anything breaking. No crunches or splinterings or tinkling of glass.

Just BANG! BANG! BANG!

I crept down the stairs to the first floor. There was no one in the living room or the dining room. The sound was coming from the back of the house.

The basement!

My feet pulled me along the hallway to the kitchen. My mind was blank—it was as if I'd lost control of my body.

The pounding got louder.

But it wasn't the basement door that was dancing in its frame. It was the kitchen door. The furious banging was coming from outside.

As I stood stuck to the spot, the doorknob began to turn.

I stared at it in horror.

Was it Bobby, the dead boy? Or the witch-thing coming to get me?

The door shook and bulged.

A voice from the grave shouted out my name. “
Jayyy-son! Jayyy-son!
”

The door swung open.

6

A big dark shape filled the doorway, blotting out the sun.

“Jason? Is that you?”

I turned to jelly with relief. It was only Steve, my bud from next door.

“What's going on?” he asked. “How come your parents are back already?”

I shrugged. “The job didn't take as long as they thought, that's all.”

“Yeah?” He sounded doubtful. “What was all the fuss over here late last night? I thought I heard screaming.”

“Must have been the ambulance siren,” I said, acting casual. Like it was no big deal.

“The ambulance? Cool! What happened?”

As I told Steve about our horrible night, with the ghosts chasing us up into the attic and out onto the roof, his eyes got bigger and bigger.

“You're making it up,” he said. “The baby-sitter really broke her arm?”

I nodded. “She's okay now.”

“So you guys were left here on your own?”

“Only for a little while,” I said. “Then my parents came back. The witch-thing is still here, though. She just came after me with a sledgehammer. I'm lucky to be alive.”

Steve was kind of staring at me, trying to figure out if I was telling the truth. He's a big, athletic kid, a star pitcher for his baseball team, and a real practical joker. He was always pulling some prank or another, but he'd seen enough of the haunting himself to know I wasn't making it up.

“Any grub in this joint?” he asked, switching his attention to the cookie jar.

“Help yourself,” I said.

Steve thoughtfully munched an Oreo and gave me a quizzical look. “You really got attacked with a sledgehammer?”

I pointed to the bruise on my forehead.

“I thought the ghosts only came out at night,” he said.

“That's what I thought, too.”

He sighed and wiped crumbs from his mouth. “Totally weird,” he said.

Just then my mom came into the kitchen. “Hello, Steve,” she said. “I see you boys found the cookies.”

“Hi, Mrs. Winter,” he said. “Welcome back.”

“Jay, I just got off the phone with Katie's mother,” Mom said. “Your father and I feel responsible for what happened to her.”

“It wasn't your fault,” I said.

“Nevertheless, she was in our house. We're going over to the hospital to make sure she's okay. Will you and your sister be okay for an hour or so?”

“Sure, Mom.”

“Sally's still sound asleep. So I don't want a lot of horsing around in here,” she said, eyeing Steve.

“No problemo,” I said.

A couple of minutes later the station wagon was heading back down the driveway. Steve and I watched it go.

“What do we do now?” he asked. “You want to play ball? Or we could go swimming.”

“I can't leave Sally alone,” I said.

“But she's asleep,” he protested.

“You know better than that,” I said. “But I do have something in mind.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like an expedition.”

Steve grinned. “Right. Like to the North Pole, right?”

“Worse,” I said. “To the basement.”

“The basement?” he said, looking puzzled. “Why?”

“Because there's something down there I want to find.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “Like what?” he asked.

“A body,” I said. “A dead body.”

7

It was Steve's idea to call up Lucy. She's about our age, with long dark hair and a very serious expression—except when she smiles. Lucy knows all about the haunting.

All in all she's pretty cool for a girl.

“Lucy was the one who told us about how they never found the old lady's body,” Steve reminded me.

It was true. Lucy had a lot of good ideas about why there were ghosts on Cherry Street and I thought she secretly wanted to see them for herself.

She showed up right away, her eyes glowing with excitement, and I told her my idea about searching for the missing body.

“I don't see what we can do against a ghost,” said Lucy doubtfully. “We're only human.”

I ignored that. “It's the witch-thing that's doing the really bad stuff,” I said. “And the basement is her territory. I can feel her down there. Steve thinks it might be the ghost of the old lady.”

“Right,” said Steve. “If we find her body and give it a decent burial, maybe she'll go away.”

Lucy shuddered. “What about the other ghost?” she asked. “The little boy?”

I took a deep breath. “I think he's been trying to protect us from the bad ghost. But he's not powerful enough.”

“The whole idea gives me the creeps,” Lucy said.

“We don't have any choice,” I insisted. “We've got to do something.”

“Okay,” said Lucy reluctantly. “What's the plan?”

“We go into the basement, find her—or her body—and drag it out.”

“But how do you know the body's in the basement?” asked Lucy.

I'd been thinking about that for quite a while, and I thought I finally had the answer.

“Because that's the one place Bobby never goes,” I said. “That's how.”

8

Steve and Lucy went back home to get ready for the expedition into the haunted basement. We agreed to meet at my house in a half hour.

It didn't take me long to get ready. All I needed was my flashlight, an extra battery, a stick for poking into corners, and a long, thick rope.

Then I sat around waiting, trying not to look at the clock every thirty seconds.

But Steve and Lucy were right on time. Both of them had changed from shorts into long pants. Lucy wore overalls with pockets everywhere, all of them bulging with stuff.

“I brought a flashlight,” she said, “and a Swiss army knife. If we find a coffin we can pry open the lid with it. I've got a screwdriver, too.”

Steve was wearing some kind of lumpy necklace.

Lucy squinted at it. “Is that garlic?”

Steve shrugged. “Yeah. Just in case.”

“That's to keep away vampires,” I said. “I don't think it'll work on ghosts.”

“Phew!” Lucy laughed. “It'll keep me away, that's for sure.”

“What's that for?” asked Steve, pointing at the rope slung over the back of a kitchen chair.

“I thought we should rope ourselves together like mountain climbers do,” I said. “So we won't get separated.”

“So one of us won't get snatched away, is what you really mean,” said Lucy. “Good idea.”

“Come on,” I said, uncoiling the rope. “Let's get going.”

I tied the rope around my waist then passed it to Lucy who did the same.

Steve looked doubtful. “Well, if I fall into the witch's bubbling cauldron of slime,” he joked, “at least I know you guys will be coming after me, one way or the other.”

I led the way to the basement door. My heart was booming in my chest. “Are you ready?” I asked.

“Go for it,” Steve said. But his voice cracked.

“Here goes nothing,” I said.

I pushed the door to the basement. As it swung open the creaking noise went right up my spine.

“We could always do this tomorrow,” Steve said suddenly. “Yeah, tomorrow would be perfect.”

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Let's get it over with.”

I peered cautiously into the basement. It sure was dark down there—I couldn't see anything but dim shadows and formless shapes.

“Well,” said Steve, trying to sound tough. “What are we waiting for?”

I propped a kitchen chair against the basement door. “So the door can't lock behind us,” I explained.

“Excellent,” said Steve. But he didn't sound convinced.

We turned to face the darkness at the top of the stairs.

From down in the basement I heard a PLOP, like something diving below the surface of a thick liquid. Which was ridiculous. There was no water down there, not even a puddle.

“Did you hear that?” Steve whispered. “Sounds like dripping blood.”

Lucy groaned. “You guys are being stupid,” she said. “Let just do it.”

So we did.

I flipped on the light switch.

The only light came from a bare bulb hanging by a wire from the ceiling at the bottom of the stairs.

Lucy and Steve crowded behind me to look. The light was so dim we could barely make out the stairs. They were dusty and sagged in the middle.