The Haunting Read online

  Joel grumbled and lifted a leg over the edge. I watched in horrified fascination as he jumped without a moment’s hesitation. He landed on his feet on the couch, like Robin. Though unlike her, he landed in a roll with his arm tight to his chest. Looking up, he grinned up at us and gave Phoebe the thumbs up.

  Phoebe snickered. “Cocky jerk.” When she realized I wasn’t laughing, she glanced at me, swinging her favored long leg over the side. “Should I catch you if you miss, Fuller?”

  Feeling the lump in my throat, I croaked, “Not if you don’t want to.”

  This wasn’t the answer she expected. Phoebe dropped her eyes and licked her lips before letting go of the rail. I watched her honey blond hair fluttering before she bounced on the couch below. Like Robin, she rolled off of it. Instead of a somersault, she performed an immaculate handspring.

  Joel looked impressed and said something I couldn’t hear that made her smile.

  I was surrounded by athletes. What the heck?! Neither Read nor Aidan could have done this.

  All four watched me as I gripped the railing, feeling my head drain of blood.

  I hate heights, hate them, I thought angrily. Stupid Damien and his games.

  Lifting one leg, I crawled over the hurdle on my stomach, gripping the rail as if it were a lifeboat. The lip of the balcony balanced my toes on the side, leaving a precarious drop before me. I faced the ballroom, my clawed fingers gripping the rail behind me. I stood directly over the couch. Every muscle in my body tensed up all at once as I calculated the drop.

  My first internal count down to three failed, and I gripped the railing harder.

  If I gauged it wrong, I’d be broken. If I broke, I doubted I’d have a chance. Damien had helped, to a point, but a broken leg would forfeit the entire Challenge for me.

  “Don’t leap. You’ll clear it. Just fall,” Phoebe called up and glanced to the ghosts. Thankfully, they were undisturbed.

  I nodded to her in understanding and took a deep breath. Alright, Nora, you can do this. Just do it. Don’t even count or think about it, otherwise we’ll be standing here forever.

  My hands locked up around the railing, preventing my second attempt. I felt my insides curl at the thought of the landing.

  “Just do it already,” I heard Joel say.

  My feet teetered on the narrow edge, urging my body to get it done before it buckled my knees on me and did it for me. Gathering internal snippets of courage, I closed my eyes. Don’t let Joel see you weak, I thought and stepped off the ledge.

  My eyes flew open mid-fall, and I felt my stomach bumper-car my heart before I hit a soft surface, feet first.

  Cody and Robin were there before I could calculate my reaction. The sofa was unnaturally soft, like a trampoline. On the first bounce, Cody caught my arm and Robin latched onto my waist, steadying me as I stepped off of the couch. My heart hammered so loud I wouldn’t be surprised if the ghosts spun around and confronted us then and there. I stepped onto the firm, steady ground, my legs shaking so badly it felt like an earthquake was happening.

  “No,” Robin whispered, sounding panicked.

  It took me a second to realize she wasn’t talking to me.

  Cody and Robin let me go and stared off into the crowd of dancers.

  I looked back to see Phoebe dodging through the twisting dancers, narrowly avoiding contact.

  Cody cursed under his breath as the fluid dance stopped cold.

  For the first time since our arrival, we were noticed. Wispy bodies looked to the solid human-girl running amidst them.

  At first, I didn’t think Phoebe noticed before she slid knees first to Read’s side.

  The music stilled with one last rattling slide against violin strings. As the initial reaction faded, the offended, pinched faces turned vicious. Eyes sparked with a red hue, the only color they held. The color wafted from their eyes like cigarette smoke, circling and fading from red to grey around their heads.

  I glanced at Cody, Robin, and Joel and saw they were as stunned as me. Nobody moved.

  Then, all at once, the ghosts surged inward, crowding around Phoebe.

  “Phoebe! Run!” I shouted, my voice ringing off the walls. “C’mon, we have to get them,” I said to the others. I didn’t bother to wait for them to join me as I burst past the tables and onto the crowded dance floor. It never occurred to me that they wouldn’t follow.

  I narrowly dodged a ghost, and my skin prickled and all the hairs on my arms stood up. I could just see Read’s unseeing, open eyes as Phoebe shook him hard enough to bounce his head off the hardwood floor.

  “We have to go,” I called, skimming past two men who almost stepped right in front of me.

  Phoebe was shouting. “Stand up, you idiot!”

  Hot white pain ripped through my mid-section, stealing my voice and dropping me to my hands and knees. Each shuddering intake of air was painful, as if hands twisted my lungs like a wet cloth, allowing less and less oxygen. Tiny black dots danced in my vision.

  Read staggered to his feet. It took several dizzying seconds to realize Phoebe supported him to the edge of the crowd that were more interested in me than them.

  A woman in an intricately patterned gown focused smoky red eyes on me just before she dove. Struggling to cry out, I anticipated her weight, but instead, she drove herself straight through my chest. The hot stabbing pain renewed as if tearing off a healing scab. Gasping, I felt the same shrieking pain as a man pulled himself through me from behind. His teeth bared in a fierce smile. As he pulled free, the pain eased to an ache. I fell to my side, and the deep scratches on my back distracted me enough from falling into a dizzying confusion. My insides burned and felt as if they were stretching apart, growing bigger as if to burst.

  I have to get out of here, I thought, flopping onto my belly to worm away from their gaze. I wish they’d look away.

  Phoebe had left me. She took Read instead and left me here.

  The woman with the beautiful dress stepped up to my hip and looked down at me. She was a pretty girl, not much younger than me. She reached down as if to pluck a flower. Instead, her hand passed straight through the back of my neck. My voice felt scratchy, making my screams raspy and foreign even to me. My voice was the only sound. None of the ghosts spoke, screamed, or shuffled on the floor.

  I tried to bat her away. My hands slid straight through her wrist as I tried to twist it, to knock her grip away, but it didn’t work. Withering pain spasmed through my muscles. Each stab tightened everything in my shoulders and neck. My head swam in a sudden haze, and I thought I might be passing out. I couldn’t scream; my jaw was locked and clenched so hard my teeth hurt. It wasn’t until the young woman stood straight to look at her companions that relief flooded me. My muscles were still tensed, but I could move. I cried out at the same time, the pain releasing with it.

  They were hovering over me, all around. Dozens of red eyes gauged me with either hostility or mad glee.

  I tried to stand, my limbs feeling weak and encumbered all at the same time. Falling onto my back, I focused on the ceiling, trying to think in the small aching stillness.

  A white stucco-like ceiling arched upward and was stained yellow in patchy cigarette residue.

  Before I could focus again, my body convulsed with a burning, internal laceration. It took me a second to notice the ghost kneeling over me, arms lodged elbows-deep in my guts. Shrieking, I curled up to try and push him away. Didn’t people pass out from pain? Why wasn’t I blacking out? Please, let me pass out, I thought through blinding tears.

  Pulling his hands free, the ghost flung his hands as if ridding his fingers of grime and looked back to the others.

  Instant relief flooded through me; I was aching, but it was not nearly as bad as the knife that seared me each time they touched me.

  Get up Nora, get up! No one is coming for you. They all left you.

  I rolled, or rather flopped, onto my stomach, using my hands to pull me along the hardwood.

  Ahead, I could s
ee Phoebe; she had neared the edge of the ballroom unharmed with Read in tow. Just as she flung him to Joel, she turned to drive her way back into the crowd.

  Growing up, Phoebe was the kid no one wanted to fight. She took several Tae-Kwon-Do lessons or any form of karate that could keep her entertained. She also liked to practice on some of the bullies—which I suppose made her the bully from time to time. That was until she reached a high level and quit all together. “What’s the point?” I remembered her asking. “They say we can’t touch other people unless they throw the first punch, otherwise it’s jail time. I want to throw the first punch.”

  I saw the determination on her face wipe clean when that first punch swung straight through a man with the cane. Her mouth gaped as she collapsed to one knee, stunned. Another walked through her, then flew through her. It took three before she dropped, face first.

  Cody started towards Phoebe when Robin pulled him back with the help of Joel, who looked conflicted. He was poised to run into the crowd but didn’t budge; his eyes drifted from Phoebe to me, and then back to Phoebe.

  I could see Cody and Robin arguing, their expressions angry and their volume loud, but I couldn’t hear what they were saying. They hadn’t interrupted the dance floor, and no ghost paid the four of them any attention.

  Phoebe raised her head, her forest green eyes meeting mine. Raising a shaking hand, she pointed to the far wall, behind the violinist.

  I turned my head; the swelling ache within me began to subside.

  Behind the violinist, who watched the chaos with bright red eyes, was a door, a red door.

  “The door!” I shouted. My voice screeched like an alley-cat’s.

  Joel heard me first and followed my pointed finger to see it.

  Managing to get to my hands and knees, I crawled toward Phoebe as Joel bolted for the door, careful to stay outside of the dance floor.

  Robin tugged at Cody, who stared at Phoebe and me helplessly.

  “Go!” I urged, crawling faster towards the blonde body. Don’t let her be dead this time. Not for real.

  As I drew closer, a metaphysical hand tugged at my hair. Peeking back, I saw the woman reaching for my head, though she couldn’t seem to grab my hair, which appeared to frustrate her. Huffing, she reeled back and slammed that same hand into my head. At first, I was blinded, and panicked. I touched my face, and the world eased itself back together, bit by bit, color by color.

  You cannot get her, a woman’s voice whispered.

  It sounded from everywhere.

  Eyes focusing, in the corner of my eye, I saw the grey arm protruding. She was in my head. Actually, in my head!

  You can be more like us, she said. Dance with us. The statement was innocent. As if she didn’t know she were hurting me.

  “My friend…” I said.

  She’ll dance too, but not like us.

  A male apparition ahead stood over Phoebe’s body.

  “Phoebe? If you can hear me, move!”

  To my horror, she was disturbingly still.

  “Phoebe,” I pleaded and tried to crawl forward. The unnatural weight in my head made the process excruciating and slow. I’d never get to her in time.

  The male ghost tilted his head to the side and rubbed his chin thoughtfully. His face was sunken, drawn tight except for protruding, overly large lips. On the hand he held to his chin, I saw color. A ring. Could it be? Before I could squint and analyze further, the wraith-like creature flopped down onto Phoebe’s limp form. He fell onto her, disappearing.

  Phoebe’s body quaked to life. Her head jerked up, but it wasn’t her face. It was, but Phoebe never grinned that wide. Her large teeth and gums were all exposed and made her look insane.

  The woman pulled her hand out of my head. My head dropped as if it housed a brick and collided with the floor. The world numbed for just a second. I didn’t dare move at first as I rolled my eyes up to the grinning face of my friend. “This one should be with us,” Phoebe’s voice said, Phoebe’s mouth moved, but it wasn’t Phoebe who said it.

  Without a word, I crawled forward on my stomach, moving as quickly as my leaden limbs would allow. They didn’t stop me at first, allowing me even to get to my hands and knees before one shot through me again. The blinding reminder seized my body, freezing me in place. In my peripheral vision, I could see Robin, Read, and Joel already through the red door. Cody stood in the doorway, staring at us.

  Their abandonment felt hollow. Would I have left them? I wondered, suddenly unsure.

  The wave of nausea struck me first when I was able to move. I crawled forward just in time for another attack.

  As the ghost freed itself, the hot twisting in my chest subsided, and I started crawling again until I reached Phoebe.

  “Let her go,” I said. Hot saliva trickled against the insides of my cheeks, initiating the vomiting. Swallowing frantically, my stomach convulsed with the scratching pain that marked my stomach. Flailing my arms, I caught Phoebe’s hand. Then I threw up the little water and food I had left in my stomach. Luckily, I was able to turn my head in time so it wouldn’t hit her. Her bony fingers gripped mine, grinding my bones together.

  “I said,” I felt the gag reflex quiver, “let–her–go.”

  The warmth in my palm flashed hot, searing. The burn mark in my palm heated, pressing into Phoebe’s palm.

  For an instant, I thought of letting her go. It was like accidentally leaning against a hot car in the blazing summer. Startled, I gripped her harder when I heard a sharp intake of breath.

  Phoebe’s grin faltered. The ghost shrieked. “Demon!”

  In that horrible moment, I realized I’d used it.

  The ghost shot from Phoebe’s body as if I’d flung a cannon ball at him. Sliding back, he disappeared in the tables. Actually disappeared. One moment he was there and the next, poof. It was like I detonated a bomb.

  Scrambling to her feet, Phoebe snatched me by the wrist and hauled me with her.

  Together, we stumbled through the ghostly crowd on wobbly knees, sloshing our precarious stomachs. The sound of just us, running and panting in the chaos, was almost silly.

  The ghosts were running, frantic, holding on to one another, but all of them were giving Phoebe and me a wide berth.

  Cody still stood in the doorway, his arms outstretched.

  Phoebe easily accompanied my rhythm, and we ran around the smoky bodies, careful not to touch them. The pain faded in pulsating throbs, but it still felt like I had bits of glass left in me.

  I reached the open door and was the last one through.

  Before it shut, I heard it.

  Someone inside the room was laughing. A girl, who sounded eerily like Neive.

  CHAPTER SIX

  I let a few seconds pass, listening to the rain on the window and counting the minor injuries I’d accumulated. It was the scratches on my back and the throb of my finger mostly. The rest was a dull, internal ache. Like the feeling after a hard exercise but it wasn’t muscles that hurt; it was deeper.

  I couldn’t see out the window. The smudged glass had a thick brownish-green sludge smeared over it.

  Joel had stayed behind with me in the cobblestone hallway. He faced the T-intersection where the others disappeared. They wanted to investigate, but Phoebe and I were still feeling sick. So Joel stayed behind to watch us. Not that he’d do anything if something happened, beyond save himself.

  He leaned against the stone wall, cradling his hand. Blood pockmarked the white sheets. If this were the real world, I’d have thought he would have bled out by now. But I wondered if my influence on the Grave before prevented it somehow. Damien said I created a loop last time. I’d found Joel’s thumb before he’d ever lost it, but that was a long story, and the more I thought about it, the more my head hurt. Time was different here. Thunder rumbled, and my stomach threatened another upchuck when I stiffened at the noise.

  To my right, the opened door led to the study and Phoebe. Lanterns had been strategically placed all around to create
a dim, eerie glow to the room. One lantern, lit by a traditional candle, swung above my head in the hallway.

  “Why haven’t they come back yet?” I asked.

  As if to answer my question, I heard the choking gag reflex of someone throwing up in the study. I rolled onto my hands and knees, a wave of nausea assaulting my head, throat, and stomach. Groaning again, I held still until the sensation passed. I wasn’t sure I had anything left to throw up at this point.

  “Aren’t you going to help?” I glared at Joel and his nonchalant shrug.

  “I have to keep watch.”

  We glowered at each other for several seconds.

  I used the cool wall to stand up before shuffling into the study. The stone floor was gritty under my socks.

  We’d ended up in some type of castle. The storm outside raged like any good classic horror film, but no monsters showed up yet. If they did, I might as well just find a platter and an apple to stuff in my mouth. Tall wooden bookshelves reached the ceiling. They were over-stuffed with a variety of hardcover books. Two ridiculously large desks sat in the center of the room; each had been stacked with books and with a single lantern at their edges. A thick layer of dust accompanied them as well. On the floor, with the help of the lanterns’ light, I could make out the footsteps of my friends in the dust.

  Hunched in the corner, half hidden behind a bookshelf, Phoebe rested her golden head on her knees. The red-poisoned veins had stopped mid-calf, but she looked paler. One hand lifted away from her body, fingers closed in a wet, glossy fist. Hearing me, Phoebe lifted her forehead from her knees. Her eyes shifted from me to her hand. Still holding it out, she uncurled her fingers. The yellow vomit had mostly been wiped away, but it was what was in her palm that got my attention.

  I put on my best scientific face when the stomach bile smell hit me. “You found one,” I said.

  She nodded slowly and croaked, “I threw it up.”

  “Seriously? Just now?” I refrained from hurrying towards her. The smell of vomit grew thicker the closer I drew to her, and I wasn’t completely over my nausea. I remembered the ghost that had flopped down onto her helpless body. He had been wearing a ring when he’d done it. When he got back up, I hadn’t checked for it.