Series 2000- Attack of the Graveyard Ghouls Read online

  “Do you think he was a murderer or something?” I took a giant step back

  from the stone.

  “He must have been a bad dude,” Audra replied thoughtfully.

  “Let’s find some other stones to rub,” I told Audra. I gathered up my

  supplies and started to wander through the gravestones.

  The sky darkened. The air grew colder. I zipped my jacket back up. I

  shifted the little backpack again and continued to move through the

  tilted, broken old stones.

  I stopped when I found a big grave with a double gravestone.

  16 “Oswald Manse. 1770 to 1785. Martin Manse. 1772 to 1785,” I read to

  myself. “Together in life. Together in death.”

  They were buried under the same stone, I realized. I read the writing

  again. Oswald Manse was fifteen when he died. Martin was thirteen. They

  must have been brothers, I realized.

  Poor Oswald and Martin Manse. They were so young when they died. I bet

  they were nice kids. Definitely not murderers who died on the hanging

  tree! There was some more writing at the bottom of the stone, but I

  didn’t read it.

  Beneath the writing, I saw a picture of a bird etched into the granite.

  It looked like a crow.

  I stared at the bird. Audra will like this grave, I thought. She’ll want

  to do a rubbing of it.

  Where was Audra, anyway?

  I glanced around the graveyard. Kids were scattered everywhere, bending

  over the graves, struggling with their tracings.

  I found Audra with Frank. They were wandering between rows of crooked

  tombstones, trying to decide which ones to work on next.

  “Hey, Audra, check this one out.” I grabbed her arm and tugged her to

  the spot.

  “Whoooooah!” I stumbled again.

  I grabbed for Audra to keep myself from falling.

  Missed.

  And tumbled forward - onto the double tombstone!

  17 The stone creaked and groaned as I fell over it.

  It toppled over, making a heavy THUD as it landed on its back in the dirt.

  And I heard a small cry.

  The sound sent a shiver down my back.

  “Huh? Was that you?” I asked Audra.

  She stared down at me. “Excuse me?”

  “Wasn’t that you? I heard a cry. Wasn’t that you?” I repeated.

  “No. It wasn’t me.” Audra shook her head.

  “Did you hear it?” I asked.

  “Nope.”

  Did I imagine it? I climbed to my feet and straightened my baseball cap.

  Then I brushed dirt off the front of my jacket and jeans.

  I turned to see Audra staring down at the stone. “Whoa. Spencer, do you

  see what it says at the bottom?”

  I squinted at the small writing engraved under the crow: disturb our

  rest at your own peril.

  Another shiver ran down my back.

  Disturb their rest?

  Did I just disturb their rest?

  “Time to go! Time to go, everyone!” I could hear Mrs. Webster calling

  from the graveyard gate.

  But I stared down at the tombstone I had just knocked over. The crow,

  lying on the ground.

  With a groan, I pulled off the backpack and set it against a tree. Then

  I bent down and struggled to pull the big stone back up.

  18 “Oh, wow,” I muttered.

  It weighed a ton. I couldn’t budge it.

  “Hey - somebody help me!” I called. But they were all heading down the

  hill. Even Audra.

  “Hey! Wait up!” I called after her.

  I let go of the big stone, stood up, and took a step toward the gate.

  And a hand reached up from the ground - and wrapped itself around my ankle.

  19 I opened my mouth to scream - but only a tiny squeak escaped.

  The hand tightened its grip on my ankle. I could feel the cold of its

  flesh wrap around me.

  “Nooooo.” I uttered a low moan of horror. And kicked hard.

  And burst free.

  I lurched forward. My baseball cap flew off. I didn’t stop to pick it

  up. I ran.

  Ran through the broken gate. “Wait up! Wait up!” I shrieked. “A hand! A

  hand from a grave!”

  Audra, Frank, Buddy, and a few other kids turned to stare at me.

  “Spencer, what’s your problem?” Buddy called.

  I spun away from them and stared back into the graveyard.

  20 The hand. The cold, cold hand that had poked up from the dirt - where

  was it?

  Where?

  No sign of it now.

  The graveyard stood silent and still. A tiny brown-and-black chipmunk

  darted between tilting gravestones. I stood watching it, catching my

  breath, waiting for my body to stop trembling.

  Was it really a hand that grabbed me? The hand of a graveyard ghoul?

  Or did my foot get tangled in a vine or weed?

  I stared at the tall grass between the gravestones. Nothing moving.

  Nothing there.

  With a sigh, I turned and hurried after the rest of the class. They were

  halfway down the hill.

  Running breathlessly, I caught up to Audra. She eyed me suspiciously.

  “What’s wrong, Spencer? What happened to you?”

  “Nothing,” I replied. “I just like graveyards. You know. I like the …

  uh … atmosphere.”

  Yeah. Sure.

  I hope I never have to go up there again! I told myself.

  Little did I know that I’d be back in the graveyard before the night was

  over. With no chance of getting out alive.

  21 Where is my backpack?” I heard Jason’s shrill voice from down the hall.

  I was sitting in front of my computer after dinner, finishing an English

  paper. Downstairs, I could hear my little brother and sister crying. And

  I could hear Mom sounding very stern: “I won’t talk to you two till you

  stop crying. Now, stop it! Please!”

  I tried to shut out all the noise and concentrate on my homework. But

  Jason popped his head into my room. “Where is my backpack?” he demanded.

  “How should I know?” I lied.

  “I need it for tomorrow, and it isn’t in my closet,” Jason whined.

  I stared hard at him. Thinking. Thinking …

  22 And I realized where his backpack was. I’d left it up in the graveyard!

  “It was right on my shelf!” Jason cried. “And I need it tomorrow

  morning.” His voice was climbing higher and higher.

  “Uh … I think I know where it is,” I confessed.

  I shut my eyes. I pictured myself in the graveyard this morning. I set

  the stupid backpack down against a tree.

  When I thought that a hand grabbed my ankle, my baseball cap flew off, I

  remembered. But I didn’t stop to pick it up. I ran out of there as fast

  as I could. And I forgot all about the backpack too.

  Now what?

  “Go get it!” Jason demanded angrily. He tried to pull me up by the

  shoulders. “You’re not allowed to borrow my stuff. Go get it, Spencer -

  or I’m telling!”

  I could still hear Remy and Charlotte crying downstairs and Mom

  screaming at them to stop.

  If I tell Mom I took Jason’s backpack and left it in the graveyard,

  she’ll kill me! I decided.

  “No problem,” I told my brother. “Calm down. I’ll go get it.”

  Why did I say that? Was I really going to climb up to the Highgrave

  Cemetery
at night?

  Did I have a choice?

  I sent Jason back to his room so I could think. Then I paced back and

  forth in my little room,

  23 three steps one way, three steps back, my mind racing.

  I can’t go up there alone, I knew.

  Once again, I felt the cold fingers tightening around my ankle.

  No. No way I can go to the graveyard alone.

  I took a deep breath, picked up the phone, and punched Audra’s number.

  “Could you do me a little favor?” I blurted as soon as she picked up.

  “A favor? Who is this? Spencer?”

  “Yeah. It’s me. Can you come up to the graveyard with me - for just a

  second? I need to get a couple of things up there.”

  There was a very long pause on her end. Then, finally, Audra said,

  “You’re joking - right?”

  I told Mom and Dad I was going over to Audra’s to do homework. Then I

  slipped out the back door, zipping my jacket against the cold wind that

  blew down from the hillside.

  I tested my flashlight as I trotted through the backyards. It sent an

  orange circle of light over the frosty grass.

  Audra met me at the side of her garage. She wore a heavy down parka, and

  she had her hair tucked under a wool ski cap.

  “Are we really going up to the graveyard to get a baseball cap and a

  backpack?” she asked, shaking her head.

  24 “I already explained,” I said, shining the flashlight in her face.

  “It’s the backpack I have to get. I never should have borrowed the

  stupid thing from Jason in the first place.”

  We leaned into the wind and began our climb. The tall grass up the

  hillside was slick from the frosty dew. Audra grabbed my arm and we made

  our way up slowly.

  “Frank called me right after you did,” she said.

  “Huh? What did he want?” I asked.

  “He wanted to borrow my history notes. But I told him I was going up to

  the graveyard with you.” Audra laughed. “Frank sounded really surprised.”

  “Why did you tell him what we were doing?” I demanded.

  She shrugged but didn’t answer. We stepped around a clump of scraggly,

  bare trees. Their limbs trembled in the wind, making a soft creaking sound.

  “Why did you scream up in the graveyard this morning?” Audra asked.

  “Tell me the truth this time.” “Huh, me? Scream? I … uh … thought I

  saw something.”

  “You don’t believe in those graveyard ghouls you wrote about in your

  English paper, do you?” Audra’s green eyes studied me.

  “No way,” I muttered.

  I gazed up to the top of Highgrave Hill. No

  25 strange flickering lights tonight. No eerie mist. The moon floated

  low in a clear black sky.

  We stopped as we walked through the open gate.

  I swept my flashlight over a row of old tombstones. They tilted against

  each other as if asleep.

  I jumped as something leaped out from the bottom of a tall, narrow

  gravestone.

  A rabbit.

  Audra laughed. “Spencer - you jumped a mile! It’s only a little bunny

  rabbit.”

  “Let’s grab the backpack and get out of here,” I murmured. “I’m pretty

  sure I left it near that double grave.”

  A cloud rolled over the moon. I struggled to see as the graveyard

  darkened. I raised the beam of light and swept it along the rows of graves.

  “I wish I brought a flashlight too,” Audra whispered. I saw her shiver.

  “It’s so dark up here now.”

  “Just stick close to me,” I said. I felt as frightened as Audra did, but

  I’d never let her know that.

  The wind whistled as it blew through the gnarled, old graveyard trees.

  The bare limbs shook and creaked. Tall grass brushed against the tilting

  gravestones, making a SHUSSSSH SHUSSSSH sound.

  We made our way along a row of low graves. “Oh!” I cried out as my left

  foot sank into a hole. Pain shot up from my ankle. I rubbed the foot

  till it stopped hurting.

  26 “I’m okay. Just twisted it a little,” I explained.

  I climbed a low rise and turned into the next row. And spotted the

  backpack on the ground, resting against a bent, old tree.

  I hurried over to it, kneeled down, and grabbed it with both hands. The

  dew had frozen on it, spreading a thin layer of frost over the canvas. I

  brushed it off with one hand.

  I could hear Audra breathing hard behind me - loud, rasping breaths.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked. “Why are you out of breath?”

  She didn’t reply.

  I continued brushing the frost off the backpack. But I stopped when I

  heard leaves rustling in front of me.

  I raised my eyes to the sound. I gazed down the row of tombstones - as

  someone stepped out quickly from behind a tree.

  “Who - ?” I uttered.

  Too dark to see.

  The figure moved toward me, taking long strides.

  “Audra!” I cried, finally recognizing her. “What were you doing over

  there?”

  But then a more frightening question burst into my mind: If Audra was

  over by the tree, who was breathing so hard behind me?

  27 With a cry, I spun around.

  No one there. No one.

  Someone stood breathing hard behind me, I knew. Loud, raspy breaths. So

  close behind.

  If it wasn’t Audra, who was it? Where did they go?

  A chill ran down my back. The backpack slid out of my hand. I bent to

  pick it up.

  When I stood, Audra had vanished again.

  “Audra? What’s going on?” I cried.

  “Sorry.” Her voice rose up from a grassy slope. “I lost you in the dark,

  Spencer. There is a really awesome gravestone here. You should check it

  out.”

  I swung the backpack onto my shoulders. Then I raised the flashlight and

  aimed it in Audra’s direction.

  28 She was bent over a tiny gravestone carved in black. “It’s a little

  baby’s grave,” she called, her voice muffled in the rush of wind. “And

  it has a long lullaby engraved on the stone. It … it’s so sad, Spencer.”

  “That baby probably died a hundred years ago,” I muttered. I started

  over to her, the circle of orange light from the flashlight bouncing off

  the gravestones. “I found the stupid backpack. We can go, Audra.”

  “Okay. Just come take a look at this,” she called.

  Fiddling with the backpack, I started along the row of graves toward

  her. But the light beam stopped on something on the ground.

  My cap! My baseball cap.

  I had forgotten all about it.

  “All right!” I cried happily.

  I bent down. Scooped it off the grass.

  And screamed.

  Resting snugly inside the cap - a head!

  A real human head!

  29 Dark, sunken eyes stared at me. The mouth hung open loosely,

  revealing black toothless gums.

  My stomach heaved. I started to gag.

  My hands began to shake, and the head dropped out of the cap. It bounced

  against my shoe and rolled into the grass.

  “A … head!” I choked out. Too weak for Audra to hear.

  “Spencer, what are you doing?” she called through the darkness.

  My stomach heaved again. I could still see those blank, sunken
eyes.

  “Audra … help!” I gasped. “A head. Someone’s head in my cap!”

  “Huh?” I heard the crunch of leaves. Audra came running over. “I can’t

  hear you, Spencer.”

  30 “Look - ” I waved the cap in my hand.

  “Is that your cap?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at me.

  “The head … ” I murmured through chattering teeth. “A real head!” I

  pointed.

  She gazed down at the grass. “Where?”

  The flashlight trembled in my hand. I struggled to hold the light

  steady. “There!” I cried.

  Holding the sides of her ski cap, Audra squinted into the light. Then

  she turned back to me. “I don’t see anything, Spencer.”

  I stared down, moving the light in slow circles over the grass. No …

  no … no …

  No head.

  Vanished.

  But I knew I had seen it. Those cold, sunken eyes stayed in my mind.

  “Graveyard ghouls,” I murmured. “I … I thought it was some kind of

  legend. You know, a creepy ghost story everyone in town shared. But -“

  Audra placed a hand on the shoulder of my coat. “Spencer, take it easy.

  You’re shaking all over.”

  I opened my mouth to reply - but a sound made me stop.

  A scraping, scratching sound, followed by soft thuds.

  And then, a voice moaned on the wind, “Spencer … give … me … back

  … my … head!”

  31 Nooooo!”

  I screamed. Spun around.

  I heard high-pitched laughter. And saw Frank Foreman step into the row

  of graves. Buddy Tanner followed close behind him, along with two big,

  beefy guys I recognized from school.

  “Well? Give me back my head!” Frank declared. They burst out laughing

  all over again.

  “How long were you standing there?” I choked out. “What are you doing here?”

  Frank grinned at Audra. “Audra told me you two were coming up here for a

  picnic. So how come we weren’t invited?”

  “It’s not a picnic,” Audra snapped. “I told you not to come, Frank.”

  “We’re leaving now, anyway,” I said. I started toward the gate.

  32 Frank moved quickly to block my path. “You sure, Spencer?” he

  taunted. “You sure you’re leaving?”

  “Give us a break, guys,” Audra pleaded. “You’re not funny. It’s cold up

  here and - “

  “And there really are ghouls,” I blurted out.

  I was sorry the moment I said it.

  Why did I let that slip? I knew they’d never let me forget it for the