The Third Horror Page 9

  Kody fumbled against the wall, found the switch, clicked on the basement light. The crates of explosives, piled in the center of the floor, came into view. Kody saw a long wire stretching from the crates, leading to a box with a slender plunger—the detonator.

  That’s weird, she thought. Has Bo wired the explosives for the end of the movie even though we haven’t even begun shooting?

  “Kody—please hurry. I’m so eager to talk to you.” Cally’s voice made Kody turn away from the wooden crates.

  “Where are you?” Kody called. “Let me see you—please!”

  “I’m over here. Can’t you hurry?” Cally’s voice floated to Kody from across the basement.

  Making her way past the explosives, Kody spotted a narrow doorway against the far wall. “I never knew there was another room down here,” she told her sister.

  She heard a scuttling sound behind her. The scratch of a rat’s claws. The sound sent a chill down her back.

  Kody hurried through the narrow doorway, and found herself in a dimly lit room no bigger than a closet. A bare light bulb hung from a frayed cord, casting a harsh yellow glow over the stone walls and concrete floor. A low three-legged stool stood against the back wall, the only furniture.

  “Cally? Are you in here?” Kody whispered.

  “Yes. Here I am.”

  A wisp of pale white light flickered above the stool. The light shimmered and grew until it resembled a small cloud.

  Kody let out a happy cry as Cally stepped out from the cloud.

  “I knew I’d see you again!” Kody exclaimed, her voice breaking with emotion.

  A smile spread across Cally’s face. Her green eyes sparkled like bright emeralds. Her pale skin appeared to shimmer.

  Tears rolled down Kody’s cheeks. She spread her arms, dove forward, and wrapped her sister in a hug.

  “Oh.” Kody pulled back, unable to hide her surprise. “Cally—you’re so cold!”

  Cally’s smile grew wider. Her eyes glowed so brightly, Kody had to lower her gaze.

  “I’ve waited so long for this, Kody,” the ghost said, ignoring Kody’s surprised cry.

  Kody felt the cold mist sweep over her.

  Cally seemed to fade behind the cloud.

  The mist billowed, folding Kody inside.

  Cally became a shadow in the mist. The shadow loomed over Kody.

  The billowing cold made Kody shudder. The shadow rolled down over her like darkness falling.

  “Cally—no!” Kody managed to cry out. “Cally—what are you doing to me?”

  Chapter 24

  “Over here, Kody,” Bo said, gesturing with his clipboard to the chair at the dining room table beside Persia. “Have you been to Makeup?”

  “Can’t you tell?” Kody teased.

  Everyone seemed to be in a better mood. Maybe they could actually get a scene on film.

  The night before, Bo had spent an hour on the phone with the studio execs. He’d told them things were going well, except for a few minor accidents.

  What a lie! So far, all he’d managed to get on film were some outside shots of the house. Now he had to knuckle down and get to work.

  He guided Kody to her place at the dining room table beside Persia. Then he discussed a lighting problem with one of the crew. He greeted Burt and Marge and asked Noah to get rid of his gum. One of the assistants hurried over to take the gum from the boy.

  Bo turned back to the actors. Kody sat rigidly beside Persia, who stared at her dark nails and didn’t even bother to look up or say good morning.

  “Nice day,” Kody said, scooting her chair in.

  Persia muttered something under her breath in reply.

  “How is everyone today?” Bo called cheerily, resting his hands on Burt’s shoulders. “I love having a big roast beef dinner at seven in the morning, don’t you?”

  Burt and Marge laughed. Noah yawned and slid down in his chair so that his head barely poked over the table.

  “Bo, I can’t believe we’re actually going to shoot a scene,” Persia remarked, rolling her eyes. She turned to Kody. “Is my wig on straight? Yours is a little crooked.”

  “I’m not wearing a wig,” Kody replied sharply.

  “That’s your real hair?” Persia asked, pretending to be surprised. “I told my hairdresser not to make the wig so neat. I mean, your hair is always so—free. Since I’m stuck playing you, I wanted my hair to have that same disheveled look.”

  “Thanks,” Kody replied sarcastically.

  “Persia, give her a break,” Bo interrupted. He stepped back toward the camera. “One run-through. Then we shoot.” He turned toward the back and shouted, “Props! Let’s get the food out, okay?”

  “Coming right out. We’re spraying the meat!” a woman’s voice called from the kitchen.

  “That’s to make it shine and look yummy,” Bo explained to Kody. He turned to Persia. “While we’re waiting, let’s block out your knife-fight idea. I’m still not sure I get it.”

  “It’s just a little competitive moment between the sisters,” Persia told him impatiently. “Kody always feels second best, right? She always feels left out. Cally is the beauty and the one with all the brains and all the luck and blah blah blah.”

  “We know all that,” Bo said, glancing at his watch.

  “So when Dad says ‘Pass the carving knife,’ both sisters grab for it at the same time,” Persia continued. “And neither one wants to let go. They have a short tug-of-war, that’s all. Just to show how competitive Kody feels.”

  “Let me see how it’ll work,” Bo said, rubbing the dark stubble on his chin. “Run through it for me once.”

  Burt passed the black-handled carving knife over to Persia.

  Persia placed it in front of her. “Now, be careful and don’t cut yourself,” she told Kody as if talking to a three-year-old.

  “You should move the knife more between us,” Kody suggested. “That would make it more logical for me to reach for it.”

  Persia slid the knife closer to Kody. “Perhaps you could give Kody a little direction,” Persia suggested to Bo. “I know that Kody hasn’t had any improv training. I don’t want to get her any more tense than she already is. The poor thing is quivering like jelly.”

  “I am not!” Kody protested shrilly, her face bright red.

  “Let’s just play through the scene, okay?” Bo told Persia. “I’m not so sure it’s going to work anyway.”

  “It’ll work if she can handle it,” Persia replied coolly.

  “Burt—give them some kind of cue,” Bo instructed.

  “Then, when the two sisters struggle over the knife, should I try to stop it?” Marge asked.

  “Let’s see how it plays,” Bo replied, stepping back. “Let’s go. Action.”

  Burt cleared his throat. “This roast beef looks delicious,” he said, smiling down at an empty platter. “Would you please pass the carving knife?”

  Persia reached for the knife.

  But Kody grabbed it first.

  She lifted it by the handle, raised it straight up, then brought the blade down hard, plunging it through the back of Persia’s hand, pinning Persia’s hand to the table.

  Chapter 25

  Bo stared frozen in shock as Kody let go of the knife and calmly lowered her hands to her lap.

  Persia didn’t start screaming until the bright red blood began to pour over the back of her hand.

  It took a second for everyone to realize what had happened. Someone had replaced the prop knife with a real one!

  Frantically, she tried to tug her hand up from the table—which made the blade cut deeper.

  Blood flowed over her hand, puddled beneath it.

  “You idiot! You idiot!” she shrieked at Kody.

  “It’s not my fault,” Kody cried, jumping to her feet. “Someone switched the knives. It was supposed to be a prop knife!”

  They all watched Kody step back, her hands pressed against her cheeks as everyone crowded to the table to help Persia. Th
e room filled with startled cries and shouts of alarm.

  “Call a doctor! Just call a doctor!” Bo shouted. He tossed his clipboard furiously against the wall.

  “What is going on here?” Bo asked, trying to force down his anger and frustration.

  Two crew members struggled to pull the knife from the table to free Persia’s hand. Persia screamed and cried, her eyes shut, her face twisted in agony. “I’m going to bleed to death! Somebody—do something!”

  “Did someone call a doctor?” Bo cried. Everyone was screaming, shouting out instructions, shouting their disbelief. The racket was deafening. And over the roar came Persia’s shrill, angry wails.

  A few seconds later they heard Persia’s high-pitched squeal when the knife was finally pulled out of her hand. They stared at the widening bloodstain on the white tablecloth. Two men were wrapping a white linen napkin around Persia’s hand. The blood soaked quickly through the napkin.

  “Is a doctor on the way?”

  “Did you call 911?”

  “Is that an ambulance outside?”

  Confused and frightened shouts filled the house.

  As two paramedics burst into the room, Bo saw Kody backing away. He moved quickly to confront her. “I need to speak to you.”

  She hesitated, squinting against the bright white lights.

  “I need to speak to you now,” Bo insisted, hands pressed tensely against his waist.

  “Wh-what is it?” Kody stammered.

  “I’ve tried to be understanding,” Bo said, sighing at Kody. “But this time it’s gone too far. I can’t let this go on. Too many people have gotten hurt.”

  “I feel so terrible,” Kody said.

  Bo frowned at her. “Too many incidents. Too many accidents,” he murmured.

  She swallowed hard. “I don’t understand.”

  “I’m not superstitious,” Bo told her. He had to raise his voice to be heard over Persia’s cries from the table. “But it’s pretty obvious to me that this picture is jinxed.”

  Kody’s mouth dropped. “I still don’t understand.”

  “I don’t either,” Bo replied. “But it must have something to do with you, Kody. Something to do with the fact that you lived in this house, that you experienced its evil.”

  “But, Bo—” Kody started to say, shielding her eyes from the bright spotlight.

  He raised a hand to silence her. “So much has gone wrong since we arrived here,” he said, sighing. “And each time, you have been there, Kody. Each time, you were standing there while something horrible happened. I’m not saying you’re the cause of our problems. I’m not saying you’re responsible. But you’re the jinx. I know you are.”

  “Bo—that’s crazy!” Kody cried. “You don’t really believe that I—”

  Bo nodded solemnly. “I have to ask you to leave,” he said softly. “I have to remove you from the picture.”

  He expected her to lower her eyes and retreat quickly. He expected tears. He expected her to plead and beg for another chance.

  Instead, Kody startled him by reacting angrily. “No, you don’t,” she replied sharply. “No way, Bo. No way I’m leaving.”

  “I’m really sorry—” Bo said.

  “No. I’m the one who is sorry!” Kody declared.

  She lifted the big, glowing spotlight by its pole, swung it hard—and slammed the front of the light into Bo’s face.

  Stunned as the pain burst over him, he tossed up his arms and staggered back.

  But she kept the light pressed against his face until his skin sizzled.

  When she finally tossed the light to the floor, the side of Bo’s face smoked. He let out a weak gurgling sound and slumped to the floor.

  Before he lost consciousness, he heard Kody’s cheerful shout to the others: “Okay, everybody! That’s a wrap!”

  Chapter 26

  Kody hunched down on the low stool, struggling against the ropes that held her arms and legs. The handkerchief tied around her face as a gag choked her dry throat.

  She had twisted and pulled at the ropes for hours. With no success.

  How long had she been locked down in the basement?

  Terrified and exhausted, she had lost track of the time. She knew it must be daytime. She heard the voices above her head, heard the screams, heard all the commotion.

  She knew Cally had taken her place. She knew Cally was upstairs in the dining room, pretending to be her.

  And now Kody knew that Cally had become evil.

  Cally was not Cally anymore.

  The night before, the shadow of Cally had swept over Kody, darkened over her, darkened until Kody felt as if she were floating in a cold, bottomless cavern.

  In the icy darkness Kody felt Cally’s evil. She felt Cally’s anger, felt the hatred that filled her heart.

  When the darkness lifted, Kody found herself locked in the bare basement room. Gagged. Her ankles tied together. Her hands tied behind her back.

  Cally, she realized, had lured her there and then imprisoned her, determined to take her place.

  And now what was Cally doing upstairs?

  As Kody sat hunched over on the low stool, struggling to hear, other sounds invaded her ears.

  The scratching, scuttling sounds. The swish of tails being dragged over the basement floor.

  The rats. So close. So close Kody thought she could hear them breathe.

  She heard a shrill hiss.

  The scratching grew nearer.

  Kody struggled awkwardly to her feet and glanced around the walls of the small room.

  Where were the rats? Why did they sound so close?

  Her heart began to thud in her chest. She swallowed hard.

  Another hiss, almost like dry laughter.

  The scratch of sharp rat claws.

  Where? Where are they?

  Kody spun to the door. Then turned back.

  And spotted the hole in the wall. A slender crack down near the floor.

  Just a crack. But big enough for a rat to crawl through.

  Or several rats.

  Staring hard at the crack between two stones, she dropped to her knees. She lowered her head to the crack—and listened.

  Scratching. A shrill screeching hiss.

  Yes. The rats were on the other side, Kody realized.

  But could they squeeze through the crack?

  Were they going to?

  Chapter 27

  Kody shuddered as she lowered her face to the crack and peered through it. To her surprise, she saw light on the other side.

  Tilting her head down to see, the gag popped off Kody’s face. She swallowed hard.

  As her eyes focused, she saw a rat sitting on its haunches.

  Another rat, its scraggly whiskers twitching, bared its teeth and hissed at the first rat.

  Kody’s breath caught in her throat as she struggled to see the other room clearly. How many rats were in that room?

  “There, there, dear.”

  The sound of the woman’s voice made Kody jerk back. Startled, she raised herself on her knees and struggled to catch her breath.

  “There, there. That’s a dear.” The voice sounded so familiar.

  But who would be down in the basement? And whom was the woman talking to?

  Struggling to balance, Kody took a deep breath and lowered her face once again to the slender crack in the wall.

  The rats had moved, she saw. Or perhaps these were different rats. One of them, a plump brown creature with a long, hairy tail, scuttled in quick circles.

  “Stop that, dear. You’ll only tire yourself,” the woman’s voice scolded.

  Kody raised her eyes and discovered the owner of the voice.

  Mrs. Nordstrom!

  The housekeeper sat on a low stool similar to the one in Kody’s small room, bending and talking to the rats at her feet.

  No! Kody thought. This is a dream! This can’t be real!

  Shifting her body to get a better view, Kody squinted hard into the next room—and saw two
other familiar figures seated beside Mrs. Nordstrom.

  “Look at him run circles!” Mr. Hankers exclaimed, elbowing Mr. Lurie in the ribs.

  “Don’t tire yourself,” Mrs. Nordstrom scolded the circling rat.

  Mr. Hankers tore off a strip of cheese from a slice he held between both hands and tossed it to the rat. The other rats—at least six or seven of them—began to screech excitedly and jump up and down on Mr. Hankers’s pants legs.

  Mr. Hankers was supposed to kill the rats! Kody told herself, staring in shock. Instead, he’s feeding them!

  Feeling her throat tighten in disgust, Kody watched Mr. Lurie, the real estate agent, reach down and pick up a fat gray rat in his fist. The rat squawked and thrashed. Laughing, Mr. Lurie set the creature down on the shoulder of his gray suit jacket.

  The rat immediately leaped to the floor.

  “Haw-haw!” Mrs. Nordstrom cackled. “He doesn’t like you!”

  “Aw, they don’t like you either,” Mr. Lurie griped sourly.

  Mrs. Nordstrom flashed him a wink. “Oh, yeah? Watch this.”

  As Kody watched with growing revulsion, Mrs. Nordstrom lowered both hands to the floor. “Come on, fellas,” she cooed.

  A rat scuttled onto each hand. A pleased grin spread over Mrs. Nordstrom’s face. She raised them up, holding the rats in her palms. Then she started to giggle as the rats stretched out their claws and nibbled and gnawed on her fingers.

  “Oh! How gross!”

  Kody didn’t realize she had cried out.

  She saw Mrs. Nordstrom glance up from the gnawing rats.

  Kody gasped.

  Did she hear me?

  What is she going to do?

  Chapter 28

  “Come on, dear. Leave me a little skin on that finger,” Mrs. Nordstrom scolded one of the rats.

  “He likes to suck the blood,” Mr. Hankers said, snickering.

  Kody sighed with relief. They hadn’t heard her. She dropped back onto the stool, her head spinning with questions.

  Why were these three people sitting in the hidden basement room? Did they live there?

  Why were they playing with the rats, talking to them, letting the ugly creatures chew their fingers?