The Howling Ghost Page 6

  “Why did you leave me?” Adam gasped, barely holding on.

  “I was afraid you’d kick me in the head,” Watch said.

  “Don’t let go,” Cindy called anxiously.

  “That’s good advice,” Sally said sarcastically.

  Adam realized that he couldn’t hang there all night. His arms were tiring quickly. Taking a deep breath, he tried pulling himself up again. This time he managed to catch the other corner of the opening with one foot. That was all the leverage he needed. A moment later he was sitting on the floor of the dark attic. There were no windows, and no light from the moon or stars got through. The others gathered below him.

  “Is my brother there?” Cindy called up.

  “Just let me have a look around,” Adam said, moving the beam of the flashlight across the room. He had hardly begun to search when a glimpse of a hideous skeleton sitting in a rocking chair jumped out at him. Adam was so startled that he let out a cry and dropped the flashlight.

  “Ahhh!” he shouted.

  In fact, he dropped the flashlight through the opening in the ceiling.

  Luckily, Watch caught it.

  “Do you see something interesting?” Sally asked casually.

  Adam hugged the edges of the opening and frantically listened for the approach of the skeleton. From his experience on the Secret Path, he knew there were dead people—the good ones—who stayed dead, and dead people—the bad ones—who liked to play with the living. But it was hard to hear anything because his heart was pounding so loud and he was choking on the last breath he had taken.

  “What’s happening?” Cindy shouted, worried.

  “There’s a dead person up here,” Adam croaked.

  “Is that all?” Sally said.

  “Is this dead person trying to kill you?” Watch asked matter-of-factly.

  “I don’t know.” Adam gasped. He would have leaped back down to the desk if he hadn’t been sure he would break his neck. He continued to hug the edges of the opening, waiting for a bony hand to settle on his shoulder and rip open his flesh. But after a minute or so into his latest nervous breakdown, nothing happened. Adam finally began to breathe easier. The skeleton wasn’t moving.

  “Are you under attack?” Sally asked.

  “I’m fine,” Adam said finally.

  “He’s fine,” Sally said to the others. “He’s scared out of his pants, but he’s fine.”

  “Can you throw the flashlight up to me?” Adam asked Watch.

  “Sure,” Watch said. Carefully, he tossed the flashlight straight up and through the opening. Adam was lucky to catch it on the first try. After a moment’s hesitation, Adam focused the light back on the skeleton. She was not a pretty sight, even by a skeleton’s standards.

  Her hair was long and stringy. It looked like straw that had been dipped in white paint, then left out in the wind to dry. She wore the shreds of a violet dress—that the bugs had been nibbling at for the last thirty years. The wooden chair she sat in looked as if it was about to collapse.

  But the most scary thing was her face, or what was left of it. Her jaw hung open. Her few remaining teeth were cracked and gray and yellow. The empty sockets of her eyes glared at him. The darkness inside them seemed particularly deep and cold. Adam had to force himself not to stare. He almost felt as if he were being hypnotized.

  Adam realized he was looking at Evelyn Maey.

  Last caretaker of Spooksville’s lighthouse. Mother of lost Rick.

  “Is my brother there?” Cindy asked again.

  “I don’t see him,” Adam replied. “But—”

  “But what?” Sally asked when Adam didn’t finish his sentence.

  Adam cocked his head to the side. “I think I hear something.”

  “What?” they all asked at the same time.

  “I’m not sure,” Adam said. The sound was faint, but not far. It was not a howling noise, but something that was equally disturbing. If it belonged to a hungry monster.

  Adam thought he heard footsteps. But only for a moment.

  He played the light over the attic space.

  Nothing beside Mrs. Maey. The sound was gone.

  “What’s happening?” Sally demanded.

  “Nothing,” Adam muttered, puzzled.

  “Nothing’s happening,” Sally told the others. “And yet he’s driving us crazy with suspense.”

  “I want to come up there,” Cindy said.

  “How much do you weigh?” Watch asked, rubbing his shoulders.

  “I don’t know if you want to bother, Cindy,” Adam said. “There’s a pretty ugly skeleton up here.”

  “Like we have a good-looking one down here,” Sally said.

  “I have to go up there,” Cindy insisted.

  Watch sighed. “Just don’t pull on any of my parts if you lose your balance.”

  Watch and Cindy climbed up on the chair, and then Watch boosted her up to the ceiling. Because Adam was able to reach down and help her, Cindy didn’t have nearly as much trouble getting into the attic as he had. A moment later she was sitting on the dusty floor beside him. Adam pointed the flashlight at Mrs. Maey. Cindy gasped.

  “She’s ugly,” she whispered.

  “Dying can do that to you,” Adam remarked as he stood up.

  Just then several terrifying things happened at once.

  The wooden door that led into the attic fell shut.

  Cindy tried to pull it back open.

  But it was locked tight.

  Down below, beside Sally and Watch, the huge searchlight began to move until it was pointed straight up, toward the ceiling.

  “What’s happening?” Sally screamed.

  The searchlight came on.

  The light was blinding. Sally and Watch staggered back, covering their eyes. The light was so powerful it pierced through the fine space between the attic boards. As a result, Adam and Cindy—now cut off from their friends—were also blinded. It was as if a sun had just been born under their feet. He grabbed Cindy and pulled her close.

  “The trapdoor won’t open!” she cried.

  “Did you knock it shut?” Adam yelled back.

  Because he had to yell to be heard.

  Because suddenly there was a loud howling.

  As if the ocean wind were breaking in.

  Or a ghost was coming to life.

  “No!” Cindy cried. “It shut by itself.”

  “Watch!” Adam called, dropping once more to his knees, trying to pull up the trapdoor. It was more than stuck. It didn’t budge; it could have been nailed shut. “Sally!”

  They didn’t answer. Or if they did their voices were drowned out by the howling. Yet, as he stood and shielded his eyes to look around, Adam knew it was no wind that was making that sound. The attic dust continued to remain undisturbed. No breeze could come in from the outside. The sound was supernatural in origin. They had found their ghost, and it was probably a mistake that Cindy had said how ugly the skeleton was.

  Because the ghost was coming back to life.

  Where the blinding rays of the searchlight swept the skeleton, Adam saw a strange form begin to take shape. It appeared to be made of both light and dust, as if it drew to it whatever was handy to make its form. As the noise reached a deafening pitch and the walls of the attic began to shake, both Adam and Cindy saw the ghost of an old lady materialize where the skeleton sat.

  The skeleton did not vanish. They could still see it, but through the haze of the old lady ghost. And all of a sudden the skeleton didn’t look so scary. Because the ghost that stirred in its place was a thousand times worse. It glared at them with strange violet eyes that flashed cold fire. It raised both its arms, and its wrinkled hands were like claws. The razor-sharp nails that bent from the twisted fingertips made Cindy squeal. She had obviously seen those hands before.

  “That’s the ghost that stole my brother!” she yelled.

  “I’m not surprised.” Adam gulped. He put an arm around Cindy and carefully pulled her back, away from the gh
ost, which had climbed to its feet. For a moment the thing searched the attic. But then its angry eyes settled back on them, and it took a step in their direction. Cindy shook in Adam’s arms, and he was not feeling exactly strong himself.

  “What do you think it wants,” Cindy said, gasping.

  “One of us,” Adam whispered. “Maybe both.”

  Just then they heard the cries of a young boy.

  The sound came from even farther above them.

  The attic had an attic.

  “Neil!” Cindy cried. “That’s my brother.” She let go of Adam and strode toward the ghost, anger in her step. “You old ugly ghost!” she swore at the thing. “You give me back my brother!”

  “You might not want to insult it,” Adam suggested. “Try saying please.”

  But Cindy was too furious. Overhead, her brother continued to shout, pounding on the ceiling. It was only then that Adam noticed a ladder pinned to the ceiling. Obviously, it could be used to reach the second attic. If he could get to it. Between him and the ladder stood the ghost, and the thing didn’t look in the best of moods. Cindy raised a finger and shook it in the ghost’s face.

  “You had no right to take him,” Cindy said. “He never did anything to you.” Cindy paused and shouted at the ceiling. “We’re coming, Neil!”

  “Try getting around to its other side,” Adam whispered loudly.

  Cindy glanced over her shoulder. “Why?”

  “Just do it,” Adam said. “I’ll explain later. Keep it distracted.”

  Cindy nodded and turned back to the ghost, which still looked angry, but unsure of what to do with them. Cindy moved to Adam’s right. The ghost followed her. Adam began to move to the left.

  “Just let Neil go and I won’t file criminal charges,” Cindy told the ghost. “We can forget the whole thing, pretend it never happened.”

  The ghost fixed its attention on Cindy. It even moved as she moved. Adam was able to use the opportunity to jump up and grab one end of the ladder. It folded down smoothly, barely creaking. Adam felt a wave of triumph. If he could get up into the second attic and grab Neil, they could be out of here and home in time for dinner. He pushed one end of the ladder to the floor and started up the steps. There was another trapdoor above with a metal catch. He’d have no trouble opening it.

  Adam almost made it. Another couple of steps and he’d have reached Neil. But the ghost was not blind.

  Adam felt a strong hard hand grip his ankle.

  He glanced down, not really wanting to see what had a hold of him.

  The ghost glared up at him. Fire burned in its violet eyes as it growled. The other hand wrapped around his other ankle. Then he was falling. The ghost had pulled his feet out from under him.

  Adam hit the floor hard. Pain flared through his right side, and he had trouble drawing in a breath. Before he could recover, the ghost was on him. It was awfully strong for an old woman, especially one that had been dead thirty years.

  It grabbed him by the arms and lifted him right off the floor. For a moment Adam stared directly into its face. He could still see through it, but it seemed with each passing second the ghost was becoming more solid. It actually had bad breath. It gloated over him and then threw its head back, opening its mouth wide. The howling again shook the attic.

  “Maybe we could discuss this,” Adam said. “Work out some kind of trade.”

  The ghost was not in the mood to talk. It carried Adam to the wall, and with one stiff kick it broke a hole in the wall. Adam felt the cold air pour in. The ghost gave another kick and a large section of the wall collapsed. The ghost pushed Adam through the opening. Far below him—one hundred feet at least—he saw the waves crashing against jagged boulders. The wind tossed his hair. The ghost was slowly loosening its hold on him. This was it, he thought, he was going to die. No way could he survive such a fall.

  “Adam!” Cindy cried.

  The ghost dropped him.

  10

  Meanwhile Sally and Watch were very busy themselves. When the searchlight first came on, they both stumbled around half blind, doing exactly what Watch himself had warned them not to do. This time Sally almost stepped into the trapdoor opening and fell. But Watch bumped into her at that moment. They decided to close the trapdoor.

  “What’s happening?” Sally repeated. “What’s that howling sound?”

  “I think the ghost has woken up,” Watch said, holding a hand up like a visor to block out the light.

  They heard shouts above, but couldn’t understand what was being said. “We have to rescue Adam!” Sally cried.

  “What about Cindy?” Watch asked.

  “We can save her as well,” Sally said. “Quick, go up on the desk and the chair.”

  “No.” Watch stopped her. “It’s obvious the ghost is up there. They must be trapped. If we go up, we’ll just get trapped.”

  “You’re a coward,” Sally said. “We can’t just leave them.”

  “I’m not saying we should leave them,” Watch said. “But I think this is a powerful ghost. It was able to grab Neil all the way at the far end of the jetty. We have to strike at the heart of its power.”

  “What’s that?” Sally asked.

  Watch pointed to the blindingly bright light. “This. Every time the ghost appears, the searchlight comes on.”

  “You’re right!” Sally exclaimed. “Let’s bust the bulbs.”

  It sounded simple enough. The problem was that when Watch lifted the chair to smash the searchlight, he couldn’t get near it. The chair struck the beam of light as if it were striking a forcefield. The wood shattered in his hands and splinters went flying everywhere. Watch staggered back and would have fallen if Sally hadn’t grabbed him.

  “I think the searchlight is haunted as well,” Sally said.

  Watch straightened up and nodded. “But I still think we can disable it. Remember Adam said there were cans of kerosene in the storage room downstairs? I didn’t have a chance to look, but I think this light is powered by a generator inside the lighthouse. Maybe in that very storage room. The generator probably runs on kerosene. The wiring from it must come straight up under the floor. I know for a fact the old city wiring is not giving this thing any juice. The wires are too worn out.”

  “What are you going to do?” Sally asked.

  “I want to run downstairs and wreck the generator. I hope that’ll turn off the searchlight, and shut up the ghost.”

  “That’s great,” Sally said. “But what am I supposed to do?”

  Watch glanced up at the ceiling. There was so much noise up there; it didn’t sound like Adam and Cindy were having an easy time with the ghost.

  “Maybe there’s something you can do to slow the ghost down until I get to the generator,” he said.

  “Tell me!” Sally demanded.

  “I’ve been thinking about that article we read in the library. It listed the caretaker’s name as Evelyn Maey. And we know her son’s name was Rick.”

  “So?”

  “You know the staff at The Daily Disaster. They always mess up the facts a little. What if they accidentally left off the letter k. What if their last name was really Makey.”

  Sally blinked. “Like in Cindy Makey?”

  “Yes. When we were getting the scuba equipment, Cindy told me her father’s name was Frederick, but her mother just called him Fred. But what if her father’s mother had called him Rick?”

  Wonder dawned on Sally’s face. “Are you saying that Cindy’s father might have been the boy who washed out to sea thirty years ago?”

  “Yes. Notice where Cindy lives now. In her father’s house, which is right next to the lighthouse.”

  “That’s right! Cindy must be the granddaughter of the ghost! Watch, you’re a genius!”

  “I’ve known that since I was four years old.”

  “Wait a second,” Sally said. “The paper said the boy, Rick, was never found.”

  “And Cindy said her father was raised an orphan. The guy probably washe
d out to sea and didn’t wash up again until he was halfway to San Francisco. It’s no surprise he never made it back home.”

  “And Mrs. Makey died without knowing her son was alive,” Sally said, nodding to herself. “That’s what’s made her such a bitter old ghost.”

  “That and living here, I think,” Watch said.

  Sally had one last doubt. “But Frederick must have come back to Spooksville as an adult to claim his mother’s house. He must have known where it was.”

  “Maybe the memory of Spooksville only came back to him as he got older,” Watch said.

  Sally nodded. “Maybe his foster parents were nicer than that old bag upstairs. He probably didn’t want to come home.”

  “Spooksville’s a hard town to come home to,” Watch agreed.

  They heard a big thump above them.

  It sounded like a body had hit the floor.

  “You get to the generator,” Sally said to Watch. “I’ll deal with the ghost.”

  Watch hurried down the stairs. Sally searched for another entrance to the attic. Outside, beyond the windows through which the searchlight normally shone, was a wooden balcony. Sally had noticed it earlier, from the outside, but had forgotten about it in all the excitement. She wondered if she could climb up onto the rails of the balcony and enter the attic from there. It was worth a try, she decided.

  Grabbing the chair, Sally smashed it against the windows. All the glass let go at once, and she was able to step outside onto the balcony without scratching herself. It was only then that she saw a doorway leading to the balcony. She hadn’t needed to break the windows, after all. Oh, well, she thought. Cindy could pay for the damage.

  Sally was out on the balcony studying the guard to see if it could support her weight when plaster and wood started raining down on her and she heard the wall above her being punched through. Turning, she was surprised to see Adam fly through the hole in the lighthouse and sail over the side.

  Sally reached out and miraculously caught one of his arms. Adam hung over the side of the balcony, his feet dangling one hundred feet above the rocks.