The Final Nightmare (9 page)

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Authors: Rodman Philbrick

BOOK: The Final Nightmare
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“I can't see,” he protested.

As Steve lowered the beam, the witch blasted me with her breath and slipped out of my grasp.

“Stop her!” Lucy shouted.

I grabbed the witch's cape but the oily material slipped through my hands.

I couldn't let her get away now! I couldn't! Where was Dad?

I launched myself into the air. My arms closed around the foul thing in an awful bear hug as we crashed to the floor.

The witch screamed with fury but this time I held on.

Suddenly a bright light fell over us. My dad had screwed in a new bulb, flooding the cellar with light.

Dad gasped. “Who is this?” he asked in a horrified voice.

“It's the ghost of the nanny,” Lucy explained. “She's an evil witch.”

Dad grasped her arm and helped the old witch gently to her feet. Carefully he lifted the hood of the cape. Light spilled onto the witch's ancient, wrinkled face. Her beady eyes blazed with spite and evil. She flinched away from the brightness, spitting and moaning.

“This is no ghost,” Dad said sternly. “This woman is as flesh and blood as you or me.” He turned to the witch. “Who are you? What are you doing in our basement?”

Baring her stumps of teeth, she snarled and shook off my hand. Squaring her shoulders, she rose in height and became the black-shrouded creature that roamed our house at night, destroying anything—and anyone—who got in her way.

“I'm Alice Everett,” she said in a growly voice that sent shivers down my spine. “This is my house! Your smarty-pants son is trying to steal my ruby like the other one did. Trouble-making boys, it's all they're good for! But I'll fix them, like I fixed Bobby!”

She threw back her head and cackled wildly. “I'll take care of them kids!”

Then, quick as a cat, her arm came up in a blur and her claws raked my father's face. Dad gasped and fell back. He covered his eyes with his hand and blood streamed through his fingers.

The witch screamed with glee and spun away from us. Before our stunned eyes she melted into the shadows.

33

“Get her!” shouted Lucy, diving for the witch's legs.

Steve grabbed her cloak and yanked her back toward us while I flung myself on her, gagging as she hissed into my face. I held my breath and flung my arm around her neck.

Pain burned as her claws gouged at my eyes. But I kept my grip and Steve pinned her arms while I got her in a headlock.

“Careful,” said Dad, wiping blood from his face with one hand while he took hold of the witch with the other. “She's an old lady. You don't want to hurt her. Here, let me take her. Lucy, go up and tell Mrs. Winter to call the police.”

Lucy ran and the witch growled and spat as Dad dragged her, grunting with effort, toward the stairs.

Miss Everett twisted in the policemen's grasp and looked back at the house. “I'll get you,” she shrieked as they wrestled her toward the waiting ambulance. “You can't stop me, I'll get you all!”

Dad followed them outside and she spat horrible curses at him, words I'd never even heard. Mom kept us inside and we watched from the window as the police had to put her in a canvas straitjacket and carry her out to the waiting van.

The witch swept her eyes over the house until she found me. I flinched back from the window but her burning gaze stayed fixed on me.

“Get ready to die!” she screamed. “You'll never have the ruby. It's mine! I'll kill you slow and painful, all of you, one by one. The little girl first!”

Her evil laughter rang out over the trees and through the house. “HAHAHAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAEEEEEE …”

Even after the doors to the ambulance were slammed shut and the vehicle made its slow way down the drive and out of our lives, her laughter seemed to rattle in our bones.

Mom shuddered as she turned away from the window. “To think we had that living in the basement the whole time.” Her eyes widened at the unspoken pictures forming in her mind and she shivered again.

“We'd better get the basement cleaned up before Sally comes home from her play group,” said Mom. “Let's try to make this a normal house again, how about that?”

“Good idea,” said Dad, coming inside.

“I'll help,” I said, hoping I might still find some clue to the missing jewel.

“We'll help, too,” said Lucy. “I can't believe the whole town thought she was dead all these years.”

I felt my stomach climbing up into my throat as we looked into the old lady's hiding place. She'd stuck a narrow cot between the wall and a stack of boxes. Around it was piled what seemed like years of garbage and food wrappers. But no missing teddy bear. And no jewels.

Dad waded in with a garbage bag. As he disturbed the mess, the witch's rotten stink rose into our faces in powerful waves.

Steve gulped. “Uh, I think I hear my mom calling,” he said in a strangled voice.

“Phew, me, too!” said Lucy, edging toward the stairs holding her nose.

After they left we all got to work, getting rid of every trace of the old witch.

“Your mother and I thought you had quite an appetite,” Dad said, sweeping doughnut boxes and ham wrappings into a garbage bag. “But she must have been stealing food every night. No wonder you thought we had ghosts.”

“It gives me the creeps to think of her having the run of the place while we slept,” said Mom. “But at least now we know where all those mysterious noises came from, right, Jay?” She looked at me with a shaky smile.

Dad tied up the last garbage bag. “And now everything will be back to normal around here.”

I grinned back at him. I didn't think this house could ever be normal. But with the wicked witch gone at least the bad stuff would be over forever.

34

When we emerged back upstairs I could feel a charge in the air. It was all around us. Like sparkles you couldn't see. Or the tiny shocks you can get from shuffling your feet on a rug and touching somebody.

I knew what it meant. We'd found the witch and now she was gone—but Bobby was still here.

Looking around at the quiet, dim rooms, Mom gave herself a little shake and smiled a lopsided smile. “Funny,” she said, “now that it's all over I can barely stand to stay here. I can't get the picture of her roaming the halls out of my mind.”

Suddenly she turned to Dad. “We're nearly done with our work here, Dave. What say we pack up and head home tomorrow?”

Dad looked startled at first, then he grinned. “Sure,” he said. “I'll start on the office right now.”

“I assume you have no objections, Jason?” asked Mom, lifting an eyebrow.

“No,” I said, trying to sound enthusiastic. “I'll go get my stuff packed up.” But I couldn't shake the feeling that we were abandoning Bobby, maybe just when he needed us most.

As I started for the stairs, Mom called me back.

“Your sister will be home soon,” she said. “I don't want any talk about what happened here, okay?”

But I didn't have to say anything to Sally. When she came in the house she noticed the change in atmosphere immediately. Even the air seemed lighter, easier to breathe.

“Bobby's happy,” Sally told anybody who would listen. “He likes us.”

I felt a little chill every time she said that. I hated to think of Bobby left all alone here. But worse, I wasn't so sure he'd let us leave him.

With all the excitement, supper was late that night. Afterwards Dad played Go Fish with Sally while Mom cleaned up. He was trying to calm her down but it didn't work.

Then Mom came in and said it was time for bed. “We've had quite a day, but now it's time to relax,” she said. “We all need a good night's sleep.”

“Sure, Mom.”

She nodded as if that was settled. “Now, Jay, would you please help me put your sister to bed?”

I sighed and walked Sally up to her room. She wasn't even slightly tired. “Bobby doesn't want to go to sleep,” she confided to me. “Bobby wants to play.”

Mom was right behind us. Shaking her head, she came into Sally's room.

“Bobby will just have to go to sleep,” said Mom, tucking Sally in. “We have a long ride ahead of us tomorrow.”

Afterward, she and Dad came to my room.

“What's bothering you, Jason?” asked Dad, coming right to the point. “You seem very subdued.”

“It's the shock, right?” put in Mom. “Finding out that horrible old woman's been playing tricks on you all this time?”

“But what about Bobby?” I blurted. “Sally knew his name. How would she know the name of a dead boy unless he told her?”

Mom made a face. “Sally would have heard the old lady wandering around the house at night, muttering the little boy's name,” she said. “She invented Bobby to explain it to herself.”

“That's right,” said Dad, nodding in agreement. “She may be a little kid, but her imagination is just as strong as yours, Jason. Strong enough to make you believe in ghosts.”

He grinned and ruffled my hair. “The poor old lady was crazy. Naturally she wanted us out of her house. So she did her best to make the place seem haunted. After fifty-odd years here, she knew every inch and corner. Roving through the house at night, moving things around, banging on the pipes, cutting off the electricity, making spooky noises—she was the ‘ghost.'”

I pretended to be convinced. When they were gone I told myself it didn't matter. We'd done everything we could. Now, we were going home and in a week Sally and I would both have forgotten Bobby.

My parents were sure right about one thing, I thought, stretching out on my bed. I was ready for a good night's sleep. I dozed off immediately.

I dreamed about pleasant, normal things. Sleepy things.

And then the broken grandfather clock chimed midnight.

35

I was sitting bolt upright the instant I woke up.

BONNNG!

My scalp prickled. I forgot to breathe.

It wasn't over. Bobby wasn't going to let go of us that easy.

I braced myself for the sound of running footsteps down the hall. But the footsteps didn't come.

BONNNNNG!

I heard faint whispering coming from the hallway but couldn't make out the words.

Finally I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to see what was happening. But just as I pushed off the covers, my bedroom door swung slowly open.

A glowing light appeared in the doorway.

Inside the light I could see, very faintly, the image of a small boy. Bobby.


Jason,
” came a far-off voice out of the light, “
Jason, please save me
.”

Then suddenly the mysterious light slipped away. The ghost boy was gone and I was left alone in darkness.

BONNNNNG!

The clock sounded louder, more insistent. Something told me to hurry.

I jumped out of bed and ran to the door.

The hallway was dark but there was another ball of ghostly light in front of Sally's door. I could see shapes moving inside the light but I couldn't make out what they were.

My heart began to pound with a strange fear. Sally!

I ran toward the light but I couldn't seem to get any closer. It was blindingly bright.

Then I heard Sally's voice.

“No, Bobby,” she cried. “No, don't!”

Her frightened voice was coming from inside the light!

“Sally!” I shouted. “Sally!”

It was as if my voice broke through some barrier. The images inside the light took solid shape and turned toward me.

Sally and Bobby stood there, held together by the shimmering glow. They were holding hands. In her other hand Sally clutched her favorite blanket, like she was still half-asleep. Little Bobby held a teddy bear.

Bobby's grip tightened on Sally's hand. He frowned. His little body tensed. He was getting ready to run—and take my sister with him.

“No, Bobby,” I screamed, my heart slamming in my chest. I poured on a last burst of energy. I was almost there, almost touching them.

The ghostly light rose up off the floor. Bobby drifted up inside it—and so did Sally.

I leaped toward the light but it rose out of my reach. My hands passed through the glow and left trails of light. My fingers tingled.

Sally and Bobby were getting smaller and smaller, rising to the ceiling. He was going back to his ghostly world and taking my little sister with him—forever!

36

I dashed into Sally's room and grabbed a chair to stand on. I positioned it under the ball of light and climbed up. “Sally,” I yelled, “grab my hand!”

But she didn't seem to hear. The light bobbed gently away from me. It was growing dimmer and smaller, taking my sister with it.

Then I heard Sally's voice again. “No, Bobby,” she said firmly. “This isn't the right way. NO!”

She jerked her hand out of his grasp.

There was a loud POP! and Sally fell backward, out of the glowing bubble.

I lunged over the top of the chair to try and break her fall.

Sally's hand reached for mine. I pulled her toward me. It was like she was falling through soft clouds, slowly and gently. She drifted into my arms and managed to get both her hands around my neck before the spell broke.

The chair tottered.

WHAM!

I lost my balance and went crashing to the floor. The whole house shook.

Sally crawled off my chest, unhurt. “Jason, we have to help Bobby,” she said urgently, her face all scrunched up with worry. She pulled at me. “Come on, get up. We have to hurry!”

It took me a couple seconds to get my wind back.

As I started to push myself off the floor, a door opened down the hall. It was Mom and Dad's door. I was almost relieved.

“What's going on out here?” Dad demanded. “Do you two know it's the middle of the night?”

Before I could answer, Mom appeared, too, tying her bathrobe belt. “We know you kids are still excited about—everything—but you really have to go back to bed and forget all about ghosts and—”

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