Unbroken (25 page)

“Shouldn’t we try to find a guy ghost?” Anton asked. “I don’t want to be rude, but if there’s going to be a ghost fight …”

“Excuse me,” Ling said, giving him her coolest stare. “Why is this about boy power all of a sudden? Who fought off Toby Sutton today? Rebecca here. All by herself. And she doesn’t even know judo.”

“It means ‘the gentle art,’” Phil explained.

“Not to mention that because of your
brilliant
idea about the fake locket,” Ling said, turning on Anton, “we now have to deal with a psycho arsonist as well as an evil ghost!”

“Could everyone stop arguing, please!” They were running out of time, Rebecca knew. If they couldn’t find Frank, they needed to persuade Delphine. But when she looked up, the silvery mist of the top gallery had vanished. Delphine was gone.

“No,” Rebecca groaned. “We scared her away!”

“Oh, I’m not scared,” said a sweet, soft voice, and Rebecca had to blink away rain to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. Right there, floating rather than standing on the sidewalk, was Delphine, her face as pale as the moon.

“OK — I’m cold and shivery, and I think I see a girl in a nightgown,” said Phil. “Either I’ve caught pneumonia and I’m hallucinating, or I’m looking at one of your ghosts.”

“Everyone,” said Rebecca, quaking with excitement. “This is Delphine. She’s going to help us.”

“For Frank,” Delphine said, looking worried. “Should we not hurry? I have to walk, you know. I cannot haunt one of these new … carriages.”

She pointed at Anton’s car.

“Ling, you know the house,” said Anton, staring dumbfounded at Delphine. He’d never seen a ghost before, Rebecca realized. “You and Phil walk — run! — with Delphine. Rebecca and I’ll go on ahead in the car. Maybe what’s-his-name, Frank, is up there.”

“Nothing like this ever happened to me at home,” said Phil. “I love this town!”

“Go, go, go!” shouted Anton. Rebecca raced back into the car, watching Phil, Ling, and Delphine dart across Rampart Street. Someone was going to get their hands on Frank’s locket tonight, for better or worse. Rebecca hoped they weren’t too late.

B
y now it was dark. a sliver of moon appeared and then disappeared behind moody clouds. Rebecca had never driven into Tremé after dark. There weren’t many people out on the streets now, not in such persistent rain. Light shone through the shutters of many of the houses along St. Philip Street, but the group of three derelict houses, half consumed by vines, looked like three shadowy hillocks.

She told Anton to park by a vacant lot much farther down the block, just in case Toby wasn’t exactly sure which house he was looking for.

“We could park outside Lisette’s house,” Anton suggested, but Rebecca was worried Toby might be intent on burning something down. If they parked outside a house, he might not try to break in and search for a locket: He might just douse it with gas and light a match. Rebecca didn’t want Lisette’s house, or any of the houses in Tremé, going up in flames tonight.

Anton was just worried about his car, she suspected, looking anxiously around as he pulled the flashlight out of the trunk.
Thunder rumbled and a dog started barking, startling them both, but at least the rain had eased. Rebecca shivered, chilled beneath her wet clothes, even though the evening was warm.

The front door swung open at Raf’s grandmother’s house, and Raf emerged, letting the door slam behind him. He was still carrying his trumpet, hurrying down the stairs. When Anton beeped the car locked, Raf looked along the street toward them. For a moment he hesitated, then walked toward them in loping strides.

“You trying to get rid of that car?” he asked Anton, shaking his head. “It might not be there when you come back for it.”

“We don’t want to leave it outside anyone’s house,” Rebecca explained. “Remember the guy who almost ran my dad over yesterday? He also likes to burn down houses. Really, he’s a dangerous kid. Violent and unstable. This is what he did to me today.”

She pulled aside her hoodie so Raf could see the chain burn on her neck. Raf grimaced.

“What’s his deal?” he asked. “Why’s he hate you so much?”

“Long story,” said Anton, touching Rebecca’s arm. “We should go — you know.”

“He’s looking for the same thing we’re looking for,” Rebecca told Raf. “Under the floorboards of that house. It’s a locket.”

“You guys should keep out of that place.” Raf shook his head again. “You don’t know
what
is inside.”

“We have to go,” Rebecca said. Anton was pulling at her now, eager to be gone. “My cousin might be in there. We don’t have a choice.”

“Good luck,” Raf said, backing away across the street. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Rebecca felt even more unnerved now. Raf was probably right, but what else could they do? Hopefully the others would arrive soon, so they’d have strength in numbers — even if one of that number was a ghost who hadn’t left her gallery for one hundred fifty years.

Anton whispered that they should get off the street, so they cut up the back of the three tumbledown houses, sneaking along the fence line with the flashlight turned off. A light rain pattered onto the long grass, and Rebecca hunched down, trying to make herself inconspicuous — not that anyone would be able to see much in the dark. She had to let her eyes adjust to the gloom, pausing when they approached the house on the end to take in the busted-in back door.

Some of the boards had been prized off, leaving a gap large enough to step through. The house sat in darkness, completely quiet. Still, Rebecca hesitated, and when Anton made a move forward she tugged his hand; they both dropped to a crouch.

“Rebecca,” a voice whispered, and it was all Rebecca could do to stifle a scream.

“What is it?” hissed Anton. “Did you see something?”

“Rebecca?” said the voice again. It was Frank, she realized, but he sounded different — tired, almost — and she couldn’t see him at all.

“Frank,” she whispered. “Where are you?”

A shaking hand appeared, almost disembodied. Rebecca clutched at Anton to stop herself tumbling headfirst into the grass. Slowly she could see more of Frank: He was struggling to sit up, struggling to open his eyes. He was grimacing with pain.

“What happened?” she asked him, trying to keep her voice low.

“Fighting,” Frank gasped. His face looked drawn, sunken-in. “Fighting with … him.”

“He’s been fighting the other ghost,” she murmured to Anton, who was staring into the grass, unable to see — or hear — Frank at all. “Gideon Mason.”

“How can ghosts fight?” he whispered back. “They can’t kill each other. They’re already dead.”

Rebecca had no idea, but there wasn’t time now for Ghost World 101.

“The girl,” wheezed Frank. “He had the girl with him. Aurelia?”

Rebecca nodded, her whole body tensing.

“What happened?” Her mind was racing with possibilities. Where were they now?

“While we were fighting,” said Frank, “she climbed inside the house. She’s still in there now. So … so is he. He followed her in.”

Frank sank back into the grass. The thunder was growing closer now, erupting into a roar.

“Aurelia,” Rebecca told Anton, her heart pounding. She leaned forward, wedging her knees into the damp ground. “Aurelia’s inside. With Gideon Mason.”

“If he’s holding her hand, we won’t be able to see her, right?” Anton whispered. “What do we do? Wait for Delphine?”

“Frank,” Rebecca hissed. She didn’t want to lose any more time. “Can you stand up? We need you to come in with us. We need to
see
Aurelia.”

“Just give me … give me a few minutes.” Frank sounded spent. Whatever the other ghost had done to him, it must have been bad.

“Didn’t you say,” Anton asked, so close his face brushed her ear, “that ghosts can only hurt each other?”

Rebecca nodded. Anton was right. Maybe she could just talk Aurelia out of the house. What could the mean ghost do to them? There were no precipices to fall off of here. She crawled on all fours to the rickety back steps, and peered into the black interior of the house.

“Aurelia!” she called. “Aurelia, can you hear me?

There was silence, and then something that sounded like a
squeak.
Not a rat
, Rebecca prayed.
Please, not a rat!
But perhaps the squeak was Aurelia? She might be terrified of Gideon Mason, Rebecca thought, especially after seeing him fight Frank.

“You know the ghost can’t hurt you,” she said, trying to sound as calm and reassuring as possible. “He might tell you he can, but there’s nothing he can do to harm you. You don’t have to be afraid of him. You can come out!”

Rebecca strained to hear the slightest sound. Another squeak, and then something like a whimper. And then — Aurelia.

“I’m not afraid of him,” she called back, her voice quavering.

“He’s not holding you?”

“No.”

“Then come out, OK?”

Some rustling, and another whimper.

“I can’t,” Aurelia said, her voice breaking into a sob. “My — my — my foot is stuck. These floorboards … they’re all rotten.”

Rebecca exhaled with relief. Everything was going to be OK. She’d get Aurelia out of there, and they could go home. Her father would know what to do next.

“Hang on,” she told Aurelia, gesturing to Anton for the flashlight. “I’m coming in to get you.”

“Are you — are you by yourself?” Aurelia bleated.

Rebecca froze. She didn’t like the sound of that question at all. She had no idea why Aurelia was even asking her that. Was the ghost planning something? Was he whispering in her ear? Was he planning to make her disappear as soon as Rebecca crossed the threshold?

“I’m with Frank,” she lied. Frank was still lying prone in the grass, but nobody else needed to know that. She wanted Gideon Mason to think that invisibility wasn’t an option. If Frank entered the house holding her hand, she’d be able to see anything that cruel ghost was up to.

Now Rebecca could hear mumbling, as though Aurelia and the ghost were having a conversation.

“Ghosts can’t hurt you!” Rebecca called in through the hole in the door. She leaned closer, trying to see anything, but it was too dark. The smell of damp and mold was overpowering. “Remember that, Relia! They can only hurt each other!”

Aurelia whimpered again.

“I’m going in,” Rebecca mouthed to Anton. “Wait.”

He frowned at her, shaking his head. She understood: He didn’t want her to go into the dark house alone. But something nagged at her; something wasn’t quite right. Better to have Anton out here — a secret, a surprise — just in case. Rebecca held up her hand to him, stopping him from following her up the stairs, and Anton stepped back onto the grass. She held a finger to her lips, and he nodded.

The flashlight wasn’t much use in a house that was falling down. Rebecca shone it through the hole in the door, illuminating bare posts, dangling vines, a broken upturned chair. The place looked like it had been ransacked and smelled as though it had been left to rot in a swamp. She had to bend down to climb through the gap, tapping with one foot to make sure the floor was secure enough to take her weight. A giant rust-colored roach scuttled across the floor and ran straight over her foot. Rebecca shuddered in disgust.

She was all the way in now and upright, brushing a spider’s web off her face.

“Aurelia!” Rebecca called, her voice echoing. She wished Anton was in here with her, because this strange messed-up place, consumed by darkness, was scary. Her legs were shaking. No wonder poor Aurelia was terrified. But Rebecca had to be brave, and not stand here cowering in what must have once been a kitchen.

She took a few more tentative steps forward, through an opening where the door had been kicked in. It lay flat on the ground, laced with vines. Before her lay the main room of the house, a jumble of stripped walls and exposed posts. The remains of a brick fireplace stood stranded in the middle of the room. In front of it lay a ripped mattress, spewing stuffing and sprinkled with dusty broken glass. It didn’t look as though anyone had slept on
that
for a long time.

Rebecca beamed a ray of light into the far corner, willing herself to keep her hand steady. When she saw Gideon Mason slumped there, she almost dropped the flashlight. But he made no move at all. He just lay there, his back to the wall, clutching the old wound in his chest. His face was twisted with pain.
Frank must have fought him hard and long
, Rebecca thought. And even though the sight of this awful man made her jumpy, at least he wasn’t holding onto Aurelia.

“Aurelia?” she said, circling the ray of light around the room. Why couldn’t she find her? Rebecca took another step in, then another.

“I’m stuck,” Aurelia whimpered, but Rebecca still couldn’t see her. She glared at Gideon Mason, slumped in the corner.

“What were you thinking?” she asked him.

“I wanted her to crawl under the house,” he croaked, struggling to sit up.

“What, in the dark?”

“No matter — your English boy turned up and tried to act the big man, fighting me. Shame he didn’t do that when he was alive….”