The Final Nightmare (8 page)

The smart thing would be to keep going, down the stairs.

Instead I walked over and looked into the toy box. Empty. I swallowed a pang of surprise and disappointment. I hadn't learned anything new. How could I save me and Sally—and Bobby—if I couldn't figure out the mystery?

Had all this been to get me out of the way? To keep me away from Sally?

But as I dashed for the door the toy box lid slammed down twice. Like it was trying to get my attention. Reluctantly, I went back and peered inside.

There
was
something there!

28

More newspaper.

I was excited but disappointed too. All the newspaper stories I'd found had been confusing, full of things I knew couldn't be true.

The old newspapers had told me who Bobby was and when he died but they all said he died falling from the cherry tree and I knew that couldn't be true. I'd heard Bobby falling from the top of the stairs, many times.

Well, I didn't want to read anything up here. Sticking the yellowed paper under my arm, I hurried down the attic stairs.

Morning sunlight streamed through the hallway. From downstairs came the sounds and smells of breakfast. I heard Sally giggling as Mom playfully teased her.

Suddenly I was hungry enough to eat a horse. Something about fighting ghosts gave me a huge appetite.

But before I could go down to breakfast I had to put the old newspapers away. I hurried into my bedroom, started to whip open the closet door—and stared in disbelief.

The hatchet.

It was buried deep in the closet door. Right in the spot where I'd thrown it through the haunted mirror.

Good thing Mom hadn't been in here to see that!

I sat down on my bed to calm my racing heart and figured I might as well look through the bits of newspaper from the toy box.

Good thing I did. Because in the old papers was a clue. And the clue gave me an idea that changed everything.

“Jason, slow down, you'll make yourself sick.”

I looked up from my second plate of strawberry waffles. “I'm just hungry.”

“Fine,” said Mom. “But what's the hurry?”

I opened my mouth to tell her, and then thought better of it. She'd heard enough ghost stuff.

After breakfast I called up Steve and Lucy.

“Get your butts over here,” I whispered into the phone. “I think I've solved the haunting.”

My two buds hurried right over. Steve was grinning from ear to ear as he bounced up the porch steps. But Lucy looked more serious. “What happened?” she asked. “What did you find out?”

“Follow me,” I said, leading them upstairs to my bedroom.

Once we were inside I shut the door and showed them the latest batch of old newspapers.

“Listen to this,” I said, and read from the article that had caught my attention.

The search for the Wood family's missing ruby veered in a new direction yesterday as police questioned the bewildered nanny, Alice Everett, about its disappearance. A thorough search was made of the house. However, no progress was made, police admitted last night
.

Miss Everett was too distraught to make any comment. The grief-stricken young woman was the only one present when the Woods' only child, Robert, was killed in a fall from a cherry tree
.

Mrs. Wood, mother of the dead boy, said she was very upset that the nanny was a suspect in the matter of the missing ruby
.

Mr. and Mrs. Wood are leaving the home where so many happy memories have become painful. Mrs. Wood said Miss Everett would be staying on as caretaker of the house
.

“Wow!” said Lucy, wide-eyed. “The witch is the nanny!”

I nodded. “That's what I suspected, but this proves it. But why would the nanny kill Bobby?”

“Maybe Bobby knew what happened to the ruby and she didn't want him to tell,” Steve suggested.

Lucy clapped her hands together. “Yes!” she exclaimed. “It's finally starting to make sense.”

“Could be,” I said. “The witch-thing is the ghost of the nanny, Alice Everett. She lived in this house for years after Bobby died. And when she died, she became a ghost, too.”

Steve shook his head in disbelief. “I wonder if the old lady knew Bobby was haunting the house before she died.”

“Maybe Bobby hid the ruby,” said Lucy excitedly. “That's why the old lady was so mean and never went anywhere.”

“Or she just hid the ruby herself out of meanness,” said Steve.

I nodded at them solemnly. “I think the ruby is still in the house,” I said. “And you guys are going to help me find it!”

29

“You know where we have to look first, don't you?” said Lucy, chewing anxiously on the end of her ponytail.

“Not the cellar!” Steve protested.

I nodded—Lucy was right. “That's where the witch hangs out,” I said. “There must be a good reason.”

“The nanny-ghost-witch doesn't want us to find the ruby,” said Lucy. “That's why it's so scary down there.”

Steve picked up my baseball bat and hefted it. “This time will be different,” he vowed. “If that old beast comes after me, I'll swing for the bleachers. Pow!”

He took a cut with the bat that made the air whistle.

“Okay,” he said. “Let's do it.”

Mom had sent Sally off to some play group so we only had to lie low until my parents had shut themselves in their office.

“Everybody be as quiet as possible,” I whispered as we gathered in the kitchen.

We roped ourselves together like mountain climbers, just like the last time we made an expedition into the cellar.

“It may look silly,” said Lucy, double-knotting the rope at her waist, “but it sure worked.”

Lucy and Steve both had baseball bats as weapons. A sudden inspiration made me take the fire extinguisher from the kitchen wall.

“Here goes nothing,” I whispered, opening the basement door.

We all clicked on our flashlights and the beams sprang into the darkness.

I started down, the extinguisher held out in front of me like a machine gun. Let the old witch come for me! I'd blast her into smithereens.

The basement was as silent as a tomb.

“We'll have to look in every box, every toe of every shoe,” I said, dumping a boxful of old boots onto the floor. “If that stolen ruby is here, we'll find it.”

“That's right,” said Lucy, a little more loudly than necessary. “And we'll just stay right here until we
do
find it.”

“What if it's not here?” Steve said, alarmed, but Lucy and I didn't answer.

Lucy was sure we'd find the ruby. And I was sure the witch-nanny couldn't bear for us to be messing in her things.

We searched in silence for a few minutes, our ears tensed for any sound.

“Hey, Jason, get a load of this,” teased Steve, pulling a battered straw hat from a box. “Just your size. You'll have to wear it on our next expedition.”

I looked up and a movement behind Steve caught my eye.

But before I could get a better look there was a flash of light, a loud POP! and the sharp tinkle of shattering glass.

We were plunged into blackness.

30

“The lightbulb exploded,” said Lucy in a tense whisper. She blended into the shadows.

The image of Steve's grin stayed behind my eyes like a photographic negative.

In a panic we shone our flashlights in every direction.

Cackling laughter sprang up and taunted us from every direction. Surrounded by the awful noise we huddled together, afraid to move.

HEEEEE-HEEEE-HEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

“
Get out!
” screamed the witch-ghost. “
Get out or die!
”

“There!” screamed Steve.

Lucy and I pointed our flashlights. I caught a flash of black material slipping into the darkness, then lost it.

Our light beams were shaking. My knees, too. I was ready to give up. I swept my flashlight around, looking for the stairs.

Then something soft hit my face! I couldn't see! I was blinded.

The smell of death was filling my head and choking off my air.

My breath stopped. Dead air flowed down my throat and froze my lungs.

“Ahhhh!” screamed Steve. “She got me!”

I shook my head wildly but the clingy stuff stuck to my face.

Then something grabbed my shoulder. In a panic I flailed my arms and jerked away.

There were grunts of pain and rustling noises everywhere.

“Jason! Stop!” shouted Lucy. “Stay still.”

I felt the soft, moldy stuff sliding across my face and then Lucy pulled it free. I gulped in air.

“It's throwing things at us,” cried Lucy, holding up the dusty black scarf she'd pulled off my face.

“She hit me with a shoe,” shouted Steve. He was swinging away with his bat but not hitting anything. “The heel got me right in the eye!”

“Wait, Steve,” I said, grabbing his arm.

His chest heaved.

Anger raged in me like a fire. “Save your strength,” I said through clenched teeth. “We're going to get her.”

I hefted the fire extinguisher. “You two sweep the walls. And when you catch her in the light, keep her there!”

Lucy and Steve nodded grimly.

We advanced along the walls and shone our lights into every corner.

“Come and get us, witch!” taunted Steve.

“We know you killed poor little Bobby!” Lucy added.

“We're not afraid of you!” I joined in.

But the witch-thing stayed out of sight.

“Maybe if we go back to work,” I whispered. “Like we're not afraid of anything.”

“Yeah,” said Steve, heaving a deep shaky breath. “That'll bring her out.”

We opened some more boxes. Lucy kept biting her lip and looking over her shoulder.

I knew exactly how she felt. I was strung so tight I felt like another loud noise would snap me in two.

Something squealed in pain. “
EEEeee
—”

The cry was cut off suddenly. We heard the sound of small bones crunching. Then low laughter came out of the dark.

“
That was a rat,
” spoke the witch in a voice that echoed off the ceiling and floor. “
Next time it will be you
.”

Steve swung his light up while Lucy and I stood frozen in shock.

We knew the creature wasn't kidding. It wanted to squash us like rats.

“There,” yelled Steve. “There she is!”

31

“Over there!” cried Steve. “She disappeared behind those boxes!”

Steve lunged after the witch, dragging Lucy and me with him. He started prodding boxes with his bat, a frown of furious concentration on his face.

I kept my flashlight aimed over his shoulder, searching the darkness.

“Maybe this isn't such a good idea,” said Lucy, hanging back.

“I know she's there,” said Steve. “Unless she got on her broomstick and flew away, she's back there somewhere.”

“Yes, but—” began Lucy.

She didn't get a chance to finish because a large box came shooting off the top of a tall stack, aimed right for Steve's head.

I gave him a shove but not quick enough. The box hit him and Steve went down with a painful OOOMF!

The witch cackled with triumph.

Something about that laughter made my blood boil. I saw her black form melt into the shadows and suddenly I couldn't stand to let her get away.

I fumbled at the knotted rope around my waist. I had to get free so I could go after her.

“Jason, don't!” cried Lucy, helping Steve up. “She'll get you. We have to stay together!”

I didn't answer. The knot slipped free and the rope dropped to the floor. I aimed my flashlight into the shadows and moved slowly toward the spot where I had last seen her.

There! A black form detached from the wall and darted sideways.

“No, you don't!” I shouted, and brought up the nozzle of the fire extinguisher. I pressed the trigger and foam jetted out.

Yes! Right on target!

“
AAAAAEEEEEEEEEEE!
”

The witch writhed and howled and seemed to shrivel under the black cape.

I dropped the fire extinguisher and, without thinking, I leaped right on her.

I expected her bones to dissolve under my fingers, the ghost to slip away and leave me holding air. But my hands gripped bony shoulders. Real shoulders. Solid bones.

I was so surprised I almost jerked away. But I held on tight.

Slowly her head turned toward me. She hissed through her broken teeth like a snake. “
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
.”

Her awful smell filled my nostrils.

“
Unhand me, brat, or I'll turn your innards to soup and eat them myself,
” she rasped from inside the black cape, sending stink waves over me with every word.

She writhed and squirmed. I clenched my teeth and held on.

Black spots began to appear before my eyes. The putrid fumes of her breath were getting to me. I was growing weaker.

I tried to call out to Steve and Lucy but the words gurgled in my throat.

The witch chuckled softly in my ear. “
Now I've got you, boy,
” she hissed.

I felt one of her sharp claws pierce my side.

32

Upstairs, the basement door opened.

“What's going on down there?” a voice demanded.

It was my dad.

The witch snarled. The pain in my side was so sharp one of my hands let loose.

“Jason's captured the witch, Mr. Winter!” Steve cried excitedly.

The witch jerked away but I held on. She was dragging me slowly into the shadows.

We heard my dad coming cautiously down the dark stairway. I wanted to scream at him to hurry, but the words stuck in my throat. I felt my heels dragging along the dirt floor as she struggled to escape.

Dad hesitated, squinting when Steve's flashlight beam caught him in the face.