59 - The Haunted School Read online

  So cold… so menacing.

  So crazy!

  “Turn, turn.

  Turn to gray.

  Turn, turn.

  Turn to gray.”

  And suddenly, watching the eerie dance, listening to their machinelike chant, I knew. I knew what they were doing. It was some kind of weird ceremony. They were watching us, holding us there. Holding us there until we were gray like them.

  21

  “Turn, turn.

  Turn to gray.”

  As the kids moved in their tight circle, chanting softly, I studied their faces. So hard… so cold.

  They were trying to frighten us.

  I counted nine girls and ten boys. All dressed in old-fashioned clothes. Big, heavy shoes. And I suddenly wished this was all an old movie. All just a movie and not really happening to Ben and me.

  “Turn, turn.

  Turn to gray.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Ben shouted over their eerie chant. “Why won’t you talk to us?”

  They continued their circle dance, ignoring his cries.

  I turned to him, leaning close so that he could hear me. “We have to make a run for it,” I said. “They’re crazy. They’re going to keep us here. Until we are totally gray like them.”

  Ben nodded solemnly, his eyes on the circle of kids.

  He cupped his hands around his mouth to reply to me. And I gasped. His hands were completely gray.

  I raised both of my hands to my face. Gray. Solid gray.

  How far had the gray traveled? How much time did Ben and I have?

  “We’ve got to get away from them,” I told him. “Come on, Ben. On the count of three. You run this way. And I’ll run that way.” I motioned in two different directions.

  “If we take them by surprise, maybe we can break through,” I said.

  “And then what?” Ben replied.

  I didn’t want to answer that question. I didn’t know the answer. “Let’s just get away from them!” I cried. “I can’t stand that stupid chanting for one more second!”

  Ben nodded. He sucked in a deep breath.

  “One…” I counted.

  “Turn, turn.

  Turn to gray.”

  The chanting kids had tightened their circle. They were nearly arm in arm.

  Had they read our minds?

  “Two…” I counted. I tensed my leg muscles. Prepared to run.

  The curtain of fog had lifted. Puffs of mist clung to the ground. But I could see dark houses beyond the circle of kids.

  If we can break through their linked arms, maybe we can hide in one of those houses, I thought.

  “Good luck,” Ben murmured.

  “Three!” I shouted.

  We lowered our heads and started to run.

  22

  I went about four steps and slipped on the wet grass.

  “OW!” I cried out as pain shot up my right leg. Did I pull a muscle?

  The chanting stopped. The gray kids let out shouts of surprise.

  My leg throbbed with pain. I had to stop. I bent to rub the leg muscle.

  Raising my gaze, I saw Ben dart toward the circle. “Aaaiiiii!” He let out a wild scream as he ran.

  Two boys tackled him: one high, one low. Ben dropped to the grass, and they fell on top of him.

  “Get off! Get off me!” Ben shrieked.

  A boy and girl grabbed me roughly. They spun me around. And shoved me hard toward Ben.

  “Let us go!” I cried. “What are you doing? Why are you keeping us here?”

  They pulled Ben to his feet. And shoved us together.

  They grouped around us quickly, bodies tensed, ready to capture us if we tried another escape.

  “We’re not going anywhere,” I sighed. “Will somebody please explain what is going on here.”

  “Turn, turn,” a girl with long gray braids said in a husky voice.

  “I’ve heard that!” I cried angrily.

  “Turn to gray,” the girl added. “We’re waiting for you to turn.”

  “Why?” I demanded. “Just tell us why.”

  “No color in the moon,” she replied. “No color in the stars.”

  “No color in my dreams,” a boy added sadly.

  “Please—make sense!” Ben pleaded. “I—I don’t understand!”

  I rubbed my sore leg. The pain had faded, but the muscle still ached.

  “Just help us get back to the school,” I pleaded.

  “We left the school!” a boy shouted. “No color in the school.”

  “No color anywhere,” a girl cried. “We’ll never go back to school.”

  “No school! No school! No school!” some kids chanted.

  “But we have to get back there!” I insisted.

  “No school! No school! No school!” they chanted again.

  “It’s no use,” Ben whispered in my ear. “They’re totally messed up! They don’t make any sense at all.”

  I felt a chill. The air was turning colder.

  A wave of terror swept over me. I struggled to fight it back.

  Kids grabbed Ben and me. They pushed us roughly across the grass. They held us tightly by the shoulders and forced us forward.

  “Where are you taking us?” I screamed.

  They didn’t answer.

  Ben and I struggled to break free. But there were too many of them. And they were too strong.

  They pushed us up a dark hill. Wisps of fog swirled around our feet as we climbed. The tall grass was wet and slippery.

  “Where are we going?” I cried. “Tell us! Where are you taking us?”

  “The Black Pit!” a girl exclaimed. She pressed her mouth close to my ear as we walked. “Will you jump, or will we have to push you?”

  23

  “Pit? What kind of pit?” I screamed.

  No one answered.

  We stopped at the top of the hill. They kept their tight grip on Ben and me. Over Ben’s shoulder, I saw four kids approaching. As they came nearer, I saw that they were carrying four large buckets.

  They set the buckets down in a row. They shoved Ben and me toward them.

  Steam poured up from a dark, bubbling liquid inside. A sharp, sour aroma rose up in the steam.

  A girl carried a stack of metal cups in her arms. She handed a cup to a boy. He dipped it into the thick black liquid. It made a hissing sound as the cup dipped low into the liquid.

  “Ohhh!” I gasped as the boy raised the steaming cup to his lips, tilted his head back, and poured the disgusting liquid down his throat.

  “No color in the cup!” a boy shouted.

  “Drink the blackness!” a girl cried.

  “Drink! Drink! Drink!” Kids cheered and applauded.

  They lined up eagerly. And as Ben and I stared in horror, they each dipped a cup into the smelly black gunk—and then drank it down.

  “No color in the drink! No color in the cup!”

  “Drink! Drink the blackness!”

  I tried once again to break free. But three boys held me now. I couldn’t move.

  Kids were cheering and laughing. A boy drank a whole cup of the smelly black liquid—and then spewed it into the air.

  Loud cheers.

  A girl spit loudly and sprayed black gunk into the face of the girl beside her. A boy sprayed the black liquid up like a fountain.

  “We cover ourselves in blackness!” a boy boomed in a loud, deep voice. “We cover ourselves because there’s no color in the moon! No color in the stars! No color on the earth!”

  A girl spit black gunk over the hair of a short boy with glasses. The black liquid rolled slowly down his forehead and over his glasses. He bent to fill his cup, drank, and spit a gob of it down the front of the girl’s coat.

  Laughing and cheering, hooting at the top of their lungs, they sprayed each other. Spit and sprayed the hot black gunk until they were all drenched, all dripping, covered in oily blackness.

  “No color in the cup! No color in the drink!”

  And then t
he hands gripped me tighter. And Ben and I were pulled to the top of the hill.

  I gazed down the other side. And saw a steep drop. And down below, at the bottom…

  Too dark.

  I couldn’t see a thing. But I could hear the loud bubbling. I could see thick steam floating up, wave after wave of it. And I could smell the sharp, sour odor—so strong, I started to gag.

  “The Black Pit!” someone cried. “Into the Black Pit!”

  Lots of kids cheered.

  Ben and I were pushed to the edge of the dropoff.

  “Jump! Jump! Jump!” some kids began to chant.

  “Jump into the Black Pit!”

  “But—why?” I shrieked. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Cover yourself in blackness!” a girl screamed. “Cover yourself like us!”

  Kids laughed and cheered.

  Ben turned to me, his face twisted in fear. “It—it’s boiling hot down there,” he stammered, gazing into the bubbling pit below. “And it smells like dead animals!”

  “Jump! Jump! Jump!” kids began to chant.

  My eyes swept over them. Laughing. Cheering. The black goo running down their faces, down their clothes. The kids tossed their heads back and spewed gobs of black liquid into the air.

  “Jump! Jump! Jump!”

  Suddenly, the chanting and laughter stopped. I heard screams.

  Strong hands grabbed me around the waist from behind. And shoved me hard—into the steaming pit.

  24

  No.

  I didn’t fall. I didn’t go over the side.

  The hands held on to me. Spun me around.

  I squinted into a familiar face. Seth!

  “Run!” he cried. “We came to rescue you!”

  I turned and saw Mary and Eloise guiding Ben down the hill.

  “Let’s go!” Seth cried.

  We started to run. But we didn’t get far.

  The other kids had been startled at first. But they quickly got over their surprise. And formed a tight circle around us.

  “They’ve trapped us!” I cried. “How can we break through?”

  We stopped and stared at them as they began to circle us, moving silently, their faces smeared with the black liquid, their clothing drenched and stained.

  “I thought we could outrun them,” Seth started. “But—”

  1 lowered my gaze to a pile of dead leaves on the ground. And an idea flashed into my mind.

  I shoved my hand into the pocket of my khakis.

  “Get ready,” I warned the others.

  Ben turned to me. “Get ready for what?” he demanded.

  “Get ready,” I repeated. “Get ready to move.”

  25

  “Okay!” I cried.

  I raised the lighter. Clicked it once. Twice.

  A yellow flame shot up.

  “Owww!” a girl cried.

  Several other kids cried out. Some shielded their eyes or turned away from the flame.

  “Too bright!” a girl screamed.

  “My eyes! It hurts my eyes!”

  “Grab it! Grab it!” a boy wailed.

  But I wasn’t finished.

  I lowered the flame to the pile of leaves at our feet. The leaves caught instantly, with a loud WHOOOOSH. Bright orange flames roared up.

  “Nooooo!” The kids covered their eyes and cried out in pain.

  “Let’s go!” I called to Ben and the others. But I didn’t need to say it. They were already running over the dark grass. I lowered my head and ran after them.

  I heard kids screaming and crying behind us.

  “I can’t see! I can’t see!”

  “Somebody—do something!”

  “Put out the fire!”

  I glanced back. The pile of burning leaves sent up a darting wall of red-orange light. So bright against the black night sky.

  Covering their eyes, the kids were scrambling away, running in all directions. No one was chasing after us.

  Trotting hard through the foggy night, Seth and the two girls led us away from the hill. “We tried to warn you about the others,” Mary said breathlessly. “But you ran away. You wouldn’t listen.”

  “They’ve lost their minds,” Seth added sadly. “They can’t think straight anymore.”

  “They’re like some kind of wild gang now,” Eloise added. “They have their own laws. Their own strange traditions. They cover themselves in black goo every night. It’s—it’s really frightening.”

  “That’s why the five of us stay in the school,” Eloise explained. “We’re afraid of them too.”

  “They do horrible, crazy things,” Mary said. “They’ve given up all hope. They don’t care what they do.”

  I shivered. The gray moon had disappeared behind clouds again, and the air grew cold. The three gray kids seemed to fade with the moonlight.

  I heard shouts. From nearby. Excited voices.

  “They’re coming back!” I cried.

  “We’d better hurry,” Seth said. “Follow us.”

  He and the two girls turned and began running toward the street. Ben and I followed, keeping in the deep shadow of the tall hedges that lined the yards.

  I heard the shouts again, from close behind us.

  “Where are you taking us?” Ben asked in a breathless whisper.

  “Back to the school,” Seth replied.

  “To help us get out of this place?” I cried. “To help us back to our own world?”

  “No,” Seth replied without slowing his stride. “We told you, Tommy. We can’t help you go back. But you’ll be safer in the school with us.”

  “A lot safer,” Mary added.

  Jogging hard, Ben and I followed them through dark yards and over empty streets. The bare trees cracked and groaned overhead. The only other sound was the steady THUD of our shoes as we ran.

  I didn’t hear the other kids’ voices. But I knew they had to be nearby. Still searching for us.

  I breathed a sigh of relief when the little school building came into view. Ben and I hurried inside. We followed Seth and the two girls back to the large classroom. Mona and Eddie were waiting there for us.

  I sat down at a desk and struggled to catch my breath. When I looked up, I found all five kids staring wide-eyed at Ben and me.

  “What’s wrong?” I demanded.

  They didn’t answer for a long moment. Then, finally, Eloise said, “You’d better check yourself out in the mirror.” She pointed to a tall mirror near the elevator alcove.

  Ben and I made our way quickly to the mirror.

  My heart was pounding by the time I stepped in front of it. A heavy feeling of dread swept over me.

  I knew what I was about to see.

  But I prayed I was wrong.

  I took a deep breath—and gazed into the mirror.

  26

  “Nooooo.” Ben opened his mouth in a sorrowful moan.

  We stared at two gray figures.

  My khakis, my shirt. Gray now. My hair. My eyes. All of me. All in shades of gray.

  “We’re almost one of them,” Ben murmured. He uttered another moan. “What are the school colors here? Gray and gray?” He tried to laugh. But I saw his whole body tremble.

  “No—wait!” I cried. “Ben, look. We still have a little time!”

  I pointed into the mirror.

  My ears were gray. And the gray had spread over my lips and chin. But my cheeks still held their color. My cheeks and my nose.

  Ben’s face was the same. “That’s all that’s left,” he sighed. “The front of my face.”

  “We’re sorry,” Mary said, stepping up behind us. “We’re really sorry. In a few minutes, you’ll be gray like us.”

  “No—!” I insisted, spinning away from the mirror. “There’s got to be a way. Hasn’t anyone ever escaped?”

  Seth’s answer shocked me.

  “Yes,” he said softly. “One girl escaped from Grayworld. Just a few weeks ago.”

  “After fifty years, one of us made it back t
o the world,” Mona sighed.

  “How?” Ben and I cried at the same time.

  “How did she do it?” I demanded.

  They all shook their heads. “We don’t know,” Eloise replied sadly. “She just disappeared. We’ve been waiting for her to come back for us.”

  “When the elevator opened tonight, we thought it was her,” Eddie said. “We thought she had come back to rescue us.”

  Greta!

  Her face flashed into my mind.

  Of course! Greta, that strange girl with her gray eyes, her white-blond hair, her all-black outfits.

  Greta had escaped from Grayworld. Greta had returned to the world of color. No wonder she was so eager to get her hands on Thalia’s bright lipstick!

  Greta…

  Why hadn’t she returned to rescue her friends?

  How did she make her escape?

  My eyes traveled to the elevator at the back of the room. Open! I ordered it silently. Open up—now! Please open!

  But, of course, the gray doors remained shut.

  I shoved my hands into my khakis pockets. Thinking hard, trying to fight down my panic, I started to walk to the front of the room.

  Ben slumped into a chair, shaking his head sadly. “This can’t be happening,” he muttered. He pounded the desktop angrily. “This can’t be happening!”

  “Think, Tommy. Think,” I instructed myself out loud. “There’s got to be a way to stop the gray. There’s got to be a way to bring the color back. Think!”

  My mind raced. I was too frightened to think clearly.

  Every muscle in my body tensed.

  Thinking hard, I pulled out the plastic lighter from my pocket. Nervously, I twirled it between my fingers. Slid it from hand to hand.

  Think! Think!

  I fumbled with the lighter. It fell out of my hand and clattered onto the floor.

  I stared at it as I bent to pick it up. The lighter had been bright red. But now the plastic had faded to gray.

  But the flame…

  Suddenly, I had an idea.

  I stood up and turned to the others. I raised the lighter. “What if…” I started, thinking hard. Excited by my flash of hope.