Who Let the Ghosts Out? Read online

What a mess!

  The whole room had been trashed! Turned upside down!

  My bedcovers were balled up on the floor. My mattress stood on its side. All my clothes had been pulled from the closet and strewn over the room. The dresser drawers had all been heaved out and emptied, everything dumped in the middle of the floor.

  “Oh no. Oh no. Oh no.” I shook my head over and over. “Oh no. Oh no.” I couldn't stop saying it.

  And there … there on my desk … “Oh no. Oh no.”

  I squinted hard at it until it came into focus. Tara's red hat. The floppy red hat she never took off.

  There it stood, ripped in half on my desk.

  “Oh no. Oh no,” I moaned. “Nicky? Tara? What have I done?”

  17

  WHAT DID PHEARS DO to them?

  I picked up the torn red hat and moved it around in my hands. A sob escaped my throat.

  Phears must have done something horrible to them, and it was all my fault.

  I tossed Tara's hat aside, and then I dropped onto the pile of clothes on my floor. I buried my face in my hands.

  They wanted to be my friends. They were all alone and totally confused, and they needed me to help them.

  They thought they were safe with me. And what did I do?

  I gave away their hiding place. Phears probably tortured them. Then he made them disappear forever. And now they'll never find their parents.

  Did I ever feel more miserable in my life?

  I don't think so.

  I felt so bad, I was shaking. I hugged myself to try to stop it. I could barely breathe.

  I made a silent promise to myself. If the two ghosts somehow escaped Phears, I would help them. I would stop fighting with them and try to help them find their parents.

  And then I felt a tap on my shoulder.

  Startled, I jumped. And stared up at Nicky and Tara. I blinked several times. Was I seeing things?

  “You missed all the excitement,” Nicky said.

  “We were so scared,” Tara said. “We thought Phears could help us. We wanted to talk to him. But as soon as he saw us, he started screaming about Mom and Dad.”

  “He's crazy,” Nicky said. “He kept asking us, ‘Where are they? Where are they hiding?' We told him we didn't know. But he didn't believe us.”

  Tara's chin trembled. “It was so horrible. Phears made a grab for me. I ducked, and he got my hat. Then Nicky and I went invisible. Phears was so angry, he ripped the hat in two. Then he trashed the room. He just went berserk.”

  My heart pounding, I jumped to my feet. “But—but you're both okay?”

  “I guess,” Tara said. “It was really frightening.”

  I was so happy to see them, I hugged them both.

  Nicky stared at me in surprise. “Max, you're starting to like us?”

  “I … was worried about you,” I said. “I saw Tara's hat and …”

  Nicky scratched his head. “Who is this guy Phears? What is his problem?”

  “Lulu said he knows about Mom and Dad,” Tara said. Her chin trembled again. “I … hope he hasn't done something bad to them.”

  I squinted at her. “Lulu? Who is Lulu?”

  “Our old nanny,” Tara said. “We saw her in the kitchen. She's a ghost too.”

  So that's who I heard late at night, I realized. I knew it. I knew our house was already haunted!

  Nicky started to pace back and forth. “Phears was our only clue to finding Mom and Dad. But we can't talk to him. He's evil. Maybe Lulu was trying to warn us about Phears.”

  Tara turned to me. “Whoa. Wait a minute. How did Phears know where to find us?”

  I swallowed. “Well …”

  I could feel my face turning red. I suddenly felt sick. I didn't want to tell them I was the one who ratted on them. Now that I realized they were my friends, I didn't want them to hate me.

  “Max—!”

  A cry from the doorway saved me from having to answer. I turned to see Mom standing there, her eyes wide with horror. Her mouth kept opening and closing as she stared at the total mess, but it took her a long time to speak.

  “Max—this mess! You—you—you—”

  Think fast, Max. Think fast. “It's all an optical illusion, Mom,” I said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yes, it's part of my magic act for the Halloween party. I'll make the mess totally disappear before supper.”

  Mom stared hard at me. “You'd better make it disappear, Max. Your dad is not going to be in a good mood when he gets home from work. We got a call from the principal. She said you were very rude to her.”

  “It's all a big mistake,” I said. I turned to Nicky and Tara, but they had disappeared.

  Mom frowned at me. “I always taught you good manners, didn't I, Maxie? Did you really tell Mrs. Wright to shut up?”

  “No. No way,” I said. “She didn't hear me right. I said thumbs up. Yeah. That's what I said. Thumbs up. I was being cheerful, see? Showing her some good attitude.”

  Did Mom believe me? I couldn't tell. “Get this mess cleaned up, Max,” she said. “Fast. And you can stop rehearsing your magic act. You're going to be grounded for Halloween.”

  “No—!” I screamed. “You can't!”

  But she was already on her way down the stairs.

  “No! No way! What am I supposed to do with my bear costume? I promised Aaron we'd go trick-or-treating. And what about my magic act?”

  Nicky and Tara appeared beside me. “Take it easy, Max,” Nicky said. “We'll help you clean your room up.”

  “No!” I screamed. “I can't be grounded! I can't!”

  Furious, I picked up my backpack—and heaved it across the room. It hit the wall hard. I heard a loud crack. And to my shock, a wall panel fell off. It broke off the wall and toppled to the floor.

  “Huh—?” I could see a square of darkness behind the wall. An opening.

  Nicky, Tara, and I crossed the room and stared into the hole.

  “Just like Lulu said,” Tara murmured. “A tunnel.”

  18

  STARING INTO THE DARK hole, I felt a chill. The air on the other side of the wall felt cold and damp.

  I took a few steps back, into the warmth of my room. “How can there be a tunnel up here?” I asked. “We're upstairs. And you can't see any tunnel from outside the house.”

  The two ghosts stared silently into the black tunnel opening.

  “This is so exciting!” Tara exclaimed. She slapped Nicky a high five. “Lulu said that Mom and Dad discovered a tunnel. This must be it.”

  “Wow! Maybe it will lead us to Mom and Dad,” Nicky said.

  I could tell they were excited. They kept fading away, then reappearing brightly, flickering at the tunnel opening like fireflies.

  “Are you going in there?” I asked.

  “We can't. Lulu said we can't go in the tunnel,” Tara answered. “She said if we went in, we'd never return.”

  “But we have to find out what's in there,” Nicky said. “We have to find out if it leads to Mom and Dad.”

  “Then who's going to go?” I asked.

  They both turned to me. “Max—?”

  “Whoa. Time out,” I said, doing a football timeout signal. “No way I'm going in that tunnel. I'm allergic to tunnels. My whole face breaks out. Really.”

  Tara floated over to me. Without the hat covering her face, she was kinda cute. She had wavy brown hair and sparkling green eyes. I really hadn't noticed before.

  “We need your help,” she said softly. “Phears will come back looking for us, you know.”

  “And he'll come back for you, too, Max,” Nicky said.

  I swallowed. My teeth began to hurt again, just thinking about Phears.

  They turned to me. “We have to find Mom and Dad before Phears does,” Tara said.

  “I … can't go in there,” I said. “I'd like to help you. Really. But you heard my mom. I have to clean up my room.”

  Tara slid her arm around my shoulders in kind of a hug. “We
'll clean your room for you, Maxie,” she said softly.

  I never had a girl put her arm around me before. The back of my neck tingled.

  What a shame that the first girl to hug me had to be dead!

  “We'll clean your room, and we'll guard the tunnel opening,” Nicky said. “We'll watch out for you.”

  I stared at the hole in my bedroom wall. Tara still had her arm around my shoulders. She played with the silver bullet pendant that dangled down to my chest.

  “Maybe the tunnel is very short,” I said.

  “Good attitude,” Tara said.

  “But what do I look for?” I asked. “How do I search for something if I don't know what it is?”

  Nicky shrugged. “Look for our mom and dad,” he said.

  “Or any kind of clue about us or them,” Tara said. “Anything!”

  I rolled my eyes. “Oh, good. That makes it easy.”

  I walked over to the tunnel opening and peered in again. A whiff of cold air greeted me. It smelled sour and musty.

  I shivered. “I can't do this,” I said. “I'm sorry. I want to help you out. But this is too scary.”

  Tara handed me a flashlight. “Hurry, Max. Phears will be back. He'll do horrible things to us.”

  I ran my tongue over my teeth. Once again, I remembered the pain of the invisible dentist drills.

  “Maybe it will be easy,” Nicky said. “Maybe you'll find it right away.”

  “Whatever it is,” I muttered.

  I took a step into the tunnel. Then another.

  Darkness surrounded me right away like a heavy blanket wrapping around me. The clammy air chilled my skin.

  I took another step—and heard a scraping sound behind me.

  “Huh—?” I wheeled around—in time to see the tunnel opening slide shut.

  I hurried back toward my room. And slapped out with both hands.

  Solid wall. The opening had closed.

  I was trapped on the other side.

  19

  MY HEART STARTED TO race. I pounded on the wall with both fists.

  “Hey—can anybody hear me in there? Nicky? Tara? Help me!”

  I pressed my ear to the wall and listened. The wall felt cold and damp against my skin. I couldn't hear anyone on the other side.

  I picked up the flashlight and pounded it hard against the wall. “Open up in there! Somebody— help me! I'm trapped in here!”

  Silence.

  I pounded some more, then waited. But I knew the wall wasn't going to slide open again.

  Gripping the flashlight, I turned toward the darkness.

  “I'm not brave,” I said out loud. “So what am I doing here?” My voice echoed as if I was in a huge cave.

  Where am I? I wondered. How can there be a tunnel inside my house? Did Nicky and Tara's parents disappear into this tunnel? I wanted to shut off my brain, but the questions wouldn't stop.

  And then I heard a crackling sound, far in the distance but growing louder. I heard the whoosh of air. Flapping.

  Flapping wings?

  Yes. I raised the beam of light from the flash-light—and saw the flying creatures. Bats, black against the black tunnel ceiling. Thousands of tiny red eyes darted over me like insects. In seconds, the sound of the flapping wings grew to a roar.

  “Nooooo—!” I let out a horrified cry and covered my head with my arms.

  I could feel bursts of wind as their wings beat against my face. Something brushed the top of my head, and I screamed again.

  Covering my head, I swung away from them. A bat flew hard into the back of my neck. I felt its dry, hot body on my skin, then felt the scratch of a talon and a sharp stab of pain.

  The roar of their beating wings surrounded me, so loud I couldn't think. Another bat grazed the back of my head. A bat hit my neck and slid down the back of my T-shirt.

  “Ohhhhhh.” I uttered a terrified moan as I felt its crackly, dry body slide down my back. I twitched and thrashed, slapping at the back of my shirt—until the creature fell out, dropped to the tunnel floor, then flew away.

  My breath came out in short gasps. The bats pounded against me. I tried to fold myself into a tight ball, but I couldn't get small enough to escape them.

  Finally, I stood up straight. I swung toward them and waved the light back and forth wildly. Their silky wings caught the light. Their flight slowed.

  The bats began to screech, a high whistle that made my ears ring. Frantically, I shot the light back and forth like a light saber in Star Wars.

  To my shock, the attack stopped. The bats floated high above me now, avoiding the light. “Die! Die! Die!” I screamed, enjoying my new power. I aimed the light beam and watched the bats flee.

  Silence now, except for the wheezing of my own breath. I bent over, lowered my hands to the knees of my jeans, and waited for my breathing to return to normal.

  Did those bats attack me for a reason? I wondered. Were they trying to keep me away from something?

  I rubbed the back of my neck. I had a few scratches back there, but nothing serious.

  Aiming the circle of light on the tunnel floor, I started walking. My legs still felt shaky. Despite the cool air, sweat poured down my forehead.

  I walked slowly, my sneakers shuffling along the slick, hard tunnel floor.

  I kept walking, sweeping the light from side to side on the floor. Something sticky brushed my face. Cobwebs?

  The thick web tightened around me like a mask. I raised my free hand and tried to tug it away. But it stuck to my hand and began to wrap itself around my wrist.

  It's alive, I realized. A throbbing, breathing cobweb!

  I dropped the flashlight and ripped the sticky, pulsing strings off my face with both hands. Then I tugged the tangled webbing off my arm. I heaved it to the ground and began to stomp on it.

  But it stuck to my sneakers and began to creep up around my ankles.

  “No—!” I let out a scream as it throbbed against my skin and began to pull me to the floor. I dropped to my knees and pounded it with the head of the flashlight.

  But the cobweb stuck to the flashlight and began to spread over it, too. The webbing wrapped around my hand, then my arm. Thick strings of cobweb creeping up, reaching … reaching for my neck.

  I'm being sucked into it, I realized. It's going to cover me like a cocoon. I'm going to suffocate. …

  Then to my shock, it all fell away. The webbing let go, lost its stickiness.

  As I gazed in amazement, it fell to the floor— and shrank until nothing was left of it.

  I jumped to my feet. My skin tingled and itched. Sweat poured down my face and made my T-shirt cling to my back.

  Why had the cobweb given up? Why did it draw back just when it had me in its grip?

  I turned and saw the reason.

  Squinting into the darkness, I saw the ghost coming for me.

  My scream rang off the tunnel walls and echoed into the deep chamber.

  The ghost floated in the distance, a silent, gray figure against the blackness.

  Should I run?

  Before I could move, the ghost roared up to me like a tiny, dark tornado. It floated in front of me with its back turned.

  The frozen air swirled around me. I fell back against the tunnel wall. “Who are you?” My question came out in a trembling whisper. “What do you want?”

  Floating above the floor, it didn't turn around.

  Unable to stop my trembling, I stared hard at it. Stared hard …

  And then it turned around—and I couldn't keep my shock inside. My mouth shot open in a scream of horror.

  The ghost had my face!

  20

  THE GHOST STARED AT me blankly, ignoring my scream of horror.

  “Are you—?” I started. “Who … are you? Are you me?”

  The ghost gazed back wide-eyed and didn't reply.

  I stared at him, stared into my own face. He wore a long white T-shirt, loose-fitting, long as a dress. Beneath it he had on baggy white pants that came dow
n over his shoes.

  His eyes were deep set and sad, dark in his pale bleached face. His cheeks were hard and white as cement. His lips were colorless. He studied me as I studied him.

  “Can you help me?” I asked. “Where am I? What are you doing here? Are you my ghost? Can you speak?” My questions came out high and frightened.

  He floated closer. “Trade places with me,” he whispered.

  “Excuse me?” I took a step back.

  “Trade places with me,” he repeated. And then his face began to change. And I was no longer staring at myself. I was staring at a white-haired old man.

  “Trade places with me,” he rasped.

  “No—!” I cried. I took another stumbling step back.

  And his face changed again—into that of a sunken-eyed young man. His nose was missing. I stared at the hole in his face. And when he opened his mouth, I saw that he had no teeth and his gums were ripped and jagged.

  “Trade places with me.”

  “No. Stop. I won't,” I said. Then I noticed that he had something half hidden in his hand. As I squinted at it, he held it up so that I could see it better.

  “I have what you're looking for,” he croaked.

  A shoe box. A cardboard shoe box. And on the side I could see words printed in black marker: N ROLAND.

  Nicky Roland. A shoe box belonging to Nicky.

  “Oh, wow.” I reached out for the shoe box.

  The ghost lowered the box to his side. “Trade places with me.”

  “No. I can't. I don't want to. I'm alive. I'm not a ghost,” I said.

  “Trade places with me,” he repeated. He changed again, into a beefy-faced man with a patch over one eye and ratty black hair flowing down to his shoulders.

  He floated higher off the floor. I saw him tighten his free hand into a fist. “Trade places with me!” he screamed. His single dark eye flamed, then glowed bright red.

  I tried to back away, but I was already pressed against the tunnel wall.

  With a furious cry, he shot his fist forward.

  I ducked under it. Then I reached up—and grabbed the shoe box from his other hand.

  He swiped at the box. Missed.

  I darted under him. Wrapping the box in my arms, I started to run. My sneakers slapped the hard floor. Protecting the box, I kept my head low and ran full speed back toward my room.