The Haunted (16 page)

The sequestered situation of this church seems always to have made it a favorite haunt of troubled spirits.

—“The Legend of Sleepy Hollow”

While waiting for Ben at our next tutoring session, I was practically vibrating with energy. Things were going
so well
with Caspian, and Mom and Dad were being cool too. And if sometimes, late at night in bed, I questioned whether or not I truly
was
insane, I told myself that it didn’t matter. I was too happy to care.

Ben came in and sat down, but I noticed right away that he was acting fidgety. “Ben?” I said. “What’s up? You look worried.”

He glanced at the table. “I just, uh, didn’t want things to be awkward… after the other night.”

“I am
so
sorry about that. My mom—”

“No, not that. Your mom was fine. I meant me. Us. Me leaving. I’m sorry.”

I’d already forgotten about that. “No big. We’re cool.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yup. Now let’s get started.”

“Okay. Do you have a highlighter? We’re going to need one for this next section.”

“Let me check the junk drawer,” I said. “I think there’s one in there.”

I dug through a pile of old batteries, rubber bands, burned-out lightbulbs (
Seriously? Why are we keeping those?
), and years-past-their-expiration-date coupons, but I couldn’t locate a highlighter.

“Not here,” I told him. “Let me run upstairs. I know I have one in my room.”

When I reached my bedroom, I went right for the supply box that was stashed under my work desk. As soon as I felt the capped end of a highlighter, I pulled it free. A small piece of paper was stuck to it, and drifted to the floor. I recognized it right away.

It was the recipe for peppermint tea that Katy had given me for Christmas last year. I’d never even noticed it was missing.

That’s because you didn’t
want
to notice,
my subconscious whispered.
Noticing it was missing meant noticing that it was real.

I held it in one hand and ran my thumb over the crinkly texture. Even though Nikolas and Katy had claimed to be ghosts, or Shades, as they called it, and said they were characters from “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,” they
were
real, in some sense. I’d visited their home. Drunk their tea. Exchanged gifts with them.

Slowly, I sat the recipe back on the desk. My eyes and fingers involuntarily went to the dainty gilt-edged, rose-covered teacup sitting there. They gave that to me too. Barely visible, and crammed next to several full bottles of perfume that I was aging, it had collected a fine layer of dust.

I should go visit Nikolas and Katy. Prove to myself…

Prove to myself what? I didn’t know. But I was going to get proof… of something.

The doorbell rang later that afternoon, just as I was getting ready to go see Caspian again. I was literally at the front door with my hand on the doorknob, when the chimes echoed through the house. Spiders raced along my scalp when I saw who was there, and immediately I remembered our last encounter.

It was the odd-looking boy and girl I’d met at the cemetery.

This time they were dressed in khakis—pants for him, long skirt for her—and white polo shirts. They looked like private-school kids or Jehovah’s Witnesses.

Except for their hair.

The guy still had the Mohawk, only it was red this time, and the girl’s purple-and-blond hair had been dyed completely turquoise.

As soon as I saw them, I took a step back. I couldn’t help it; my legs were no longer in my control.

“Hello, Abbey,” the girl sing-sang in that gorgeous, high-pitched, melodic voice. “Do you remember us?”

Something pushed at the edges of my memory. It made me sick to my stomach. “Cacey and Uri,” I replied.

“That’s right,” Uri said. His voice was musical too, but in a different way. A hidden timbre ran in his tone, stretched thin like a silver current. “Can we come in?”

“That’s, um… I have to… I really should…” I lost all train of thought, and the empty house loomed at my back. Dad was at work, and Mom was at a meeting. I had the strangest urge to call 911, but what was I going to say? “Help, there are two kids dressed in khaki and being polite at my front door”?

Hysterical laughter bubbled up, and I pushed the thought
away. I was feeling much calmer now. Happy, even. Everything was going to be fine.

“Sure!” I said, throwing the door wide open. “Come on in. Do you want anything to drink?”

First Cacey, then Uri crossed the threshold and followed me in. “I’ll take a Coke, if you have some,” Cacey said. I entered the kitchen and fetched her one from the fridge. Bringing it back in, I turned to Uri. “Anything for you?”

“No, I’m good.”

They both sat on the couch, and I sat in the recliner across from them. Cacey popped the top of her can and guzzled the entire thing in three sips. She turned her wide, clear eyes to me as I watched in astonishment.

“I just
love
that beverage,” she trilled. “Co-ca-Co-la. Makes me want to write songs about it.”

Well
, that
was definitely one of the weirdest things I’ve ever heard
. I glanced at Uri. He was smiling indulgently at her. Then, suddenly, he turned his gaze to me.

“Do you like Coca-Cola, Abbey?” he asked. “Is it one of your favorite things?”

“Um, well, yeah.”

“What about potato chips? Hershey bars? Doritos? Pizza? Those are all typical teenage vices, aren’t they?”

Vices
. That was an interesting choice of words. “Yeah, I guess…”

Cacey leaned forward. “Cigarettes? Booze? A little gin and tonic after school to help ease the stress of peer pressure?”

What? Ew.
“Those are all generally considered vices, but they’re not mine.” Why was I answering them? Why were they here? What did they want?

I opened my mouth to turn the question-asking tables on
them
, but Cacey intercepted me. “I know! Sex with boys… in fast cars, and on your parents’ bed. Or with girls. I’m not judging.”

I stood up. “Who
are
you people? Why are you asking me these things?”

Cacey looked at Uri and grinned. Her eyes were paler, if that was even possible. There was absolutely no color in them now, not even the tiniest hint of gray. It was like staring into crystal-clear water. “We’re from a local college,” she said. “Just gathering statistics and data. Can’t you tell by our clothes?”

They were lying. I knew they were lying, but I didn’t call them on it. “Oh, okay.”

“Do you have any plans for your future? College and whatnot?” Uri asked me.

I looked back and forth between them. A sick feeling blossomed in the pit of my stomach, and I desperately wanted them to
leave. “Shouldn’t you… I mean, don’t you have someplace else to be?” I glanced at the door.

“You want us to
leave
?” Cacey said, a delighted tone in her voice. “Oh, I get it.
No
.”

“Why don’t you just answer our questions?” Uri asked me. His tone was soothing, and I almost closed my eyes for a second to catch that melody. “Don’t you
want
to answer them?”

Yes. No.
A migraine was starting to throb in the back of my skull. “I really don’t think it’s any of your business.…”

Cacey and Uri both leveled glares at me. Every single hair on my arms and on the back of my neck stood straight up. The dancing spiders did triple time, and I almost gasped out loud at the shivery sensation.

Putting one hand to my pulsing temples, I didn’t recognize the whispery voice that came out of me. “Please, don’t ask me these things. I can’t… Just please… don’t.”

Uri broke his gaze and turned to look at Cacey. She shook her head at him.
“No.”

“It’s too much,” he argued. “Later.”

Cacey gave a disgusted sigh and then began to examine her nails. “Fine, whatever.”

Uri looked like he wanted to grab her by the arm and haul her to her feet, but she shot him a deadly look. My head was
splitting, but I felt that weird sense of calm coming over me again. In one swift movement Cacey stood up and strode to the door. Uri was by her side a heartbeat later.

“See you around, Abbey,” Cacey said, wiggling her fingers in an approximation of a wave. “Next time.”

Uri reached around her and opened the door. The sunlight streamed in, illuminating both of them in glowing silhouettes of white. “Oh, and try some baking soda for the aftertaste. Takes away the burn,” she called out before they stepped into the daylight.

I sat on the couch, staring at the door like I could see through it. Like I could see them walking down the street, and away from my house.

All the while tasting burnt ash on my tongue.

Red eyes and dark, leathery things chased me down cramped alleys and dirty side streets. Every time I tried to scream, they’d come swooping toward me, cackling and spitting fire.

I turned blindly, searching for something to fend them off with, but every brick or stone or piece of wood I could find turned to ashes in my hands. Disintegrated at my touch.

Somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew this was a nightmare. Knew that I lay on my bed, trapped beneath stifling sheets. Shivering as sweat cooled on my skin.

I opened my mouth again to scream. In my mind, my vocal chords flexed and stretched. I felt the strain as a hoarse cry edged its way past my lips. It was almost there… almost free…

The dark thing flew low, and I took a step back. Threw up my hands, tried to protect my face…

And swallowed it whole.

I sat up, feverishly clutching the covers in the dark. It was here. It was in me. It was… a dream.

I took in my surroundings. Closet, bathroom, desk, door. No hulking shapes. No dark shadows. No red eyes. But just to be on the safe side, I reached over and flipped on my light. A warm, buttery glow filled the room and swept aside my wave of panic.

Looking down at my twisted sheets, I slowly unclenched my fingers. My legs were sweaty and stuck together when I moved. I took several steps toward the bathroom and fumbled for the light switch. The tile was cool on my bare feet as I shuffled in and stood in front of the sink, gripping both edges.

Staring at the reflection in the mirror, I turned my head from side to side and looked at my throat. There weren’t any… marks, or anything. Feeling slightly foolish, I opened my mouth and looked inside. Nothing dark or scary there either.

I shuddered as I thought about that thing swooping toward me. Forcing its way past my throat. It had screeched the most god-awful sound.… I shuddered again and ran my hands under some cold water. Pressing them to my cheeks, I tried to calm my racing thoughts. It was only a dream, but it had
felt
so real.

A single thought crossed my mind, and without questioning it, I followed through.

Leaving the bathroom behind, I changed into some jeans and a dark hoodie. Then I went over to the window seat and looked at the ground outside. There was a section of flat roof right below my window, attached to a hanging trellis. The drop down to the ground didn’t look too bad, and I was pretty sure I could make it.

I raised the window halfway and leaned my head out into the darkness.
I’ll have to be careful not to bump into anything down there and wake up Mom and Dad.

I pulled my head back in. What was I thinking? Could I really sneak out of the house? If they caught me, I’d be
so
dead.

I glanced back over at my bed and tasted burnt ash again.
No way.
I didn’t care what happened. I wasn’t going back to bed, and I didn’t want to stay here.

Lifting the window a little bit higher, I threw my leg over the edge. One toe touched the roof, and I put my other leg
through. Balancing on tiptoes, I pulled the window back down, leaving it open just enough so that I could get back in, but not too much so that it looked suspicious. Belatedly, I realized that I probably should have stuffed some pillows under my sheets to make it look like I was still there in case Mom came in to check on me.

But I wasn’t going to climb back in just to do that. Besides, I wouldn’t be gone very long anyway.

Moving over to the edge where the lattice was, I stuck my feet into the crisscrossed holes. It settled when I put my whole weight on it, and I froze, but a second later it was still. I gripped it and gave a tug to double-check. It held firm.

Climbing down was a lot easier than I’d expected, and my feet hit solid ground in no time. It looked like everything was clear, and I moved stealthily across the yard and out into the street.

Most of the houses were dark except for a porch light, and a wicked thrill went through me at what I was doing. When the massive iron cemetery gates rose up before me, I took another peek around, then slipped through them.

The cemetery was beautiful and eerie in the moonlight, the bleached-bone color of the aged tombstones turned milky and luminescent. The pathways were dark, but my feet knew the one
that would take me to him. It was peaceful and quiet as I passed by small metal fences and lopsided angel statues, but then I felt a tiny frisson of fear when I pictured red eyes and things on wings swooping after me.

I quickened my pace to a half run, and I reached his mausoleum. Slipping through the door, I saw that there weren’t any candles lit.
What if he’s not here? What if he goes wandering at night?

Terror started to clog the back of my throat, and I willed my eyes to get used to the darkness. The total, complete darkness, which was black… and empty… and yawning in front of me.

A rustling sound caught my attention. Were there rats in here?
Rats
have beady eyes.
Red
.
Beady
.
Eyes
.

The sound came closer, and I tried to breathe slower. If it didn’t hear me, it couldn’t find me. But my heart wouldn’t stop pounding, and my pulse was racing. I wanted desperately to close my eyes, but I couldn’t even do that.

The noise stopped. “Abbey?”

His voice was right next to my ear, and I turned my head, groping blindly for him in the dark. A spark of electricity tingled faintly in my hands, and I knew he was there.