Shark seemed thoughtful tonight, and quiet. He sipped from his beer bottle and kept his gaze on the front of the bar.
“I got my car back,” I said.
“Whoa. Was it totally waterlogged?” Galen asked.
I shook my head. “They got it all dried out. My mom has a really awesome mechanic at a garage in the Old Village. Would you believe it runs like new?”
They stared at me. “Dude, what was wrong with it?” Shark asked. “I mean, was the transmission shot or something? Why wouldn’t it go in reverse?”
I shrugged. “Beats me. The mechanic couldn’t find anything wrong.”
“But the brakes . . .” Shark said. “You pumped them and pumped them, remember? And we went flying into the river . . . ?”
“The brakes work fine now,” I said. “Once the car dried out, they worked fine. No problem.”
“But, Nate—,” Shark started.
“It’s a total mystery,” I said. “I’m totally creeped out.”
I shuddered, thinking about Jamie.
She almost drowned.
How could there be nothing wrong with the car?
She almost drowned.
“The car just took off on its own,” Shark said in a whisper. “I don’t get it.”
That’s when Lewis started talking about ghosts. About how here we were, sitting on the very spot where the Fear Mansion had stood. And maybe a lot of ghosts were disturbed when they tore down the old mansion.
Galen laughed and said Lewis had seen too many horror flicks. But Shark told Lewis to keep talking.
“Jamie has this thing about ghosts,” Lewis said. “You know. Ever since her cousin Cindy died, Jamie’s been trying to reach her.”
He took a long drink from his can of Coke. “One night we went to the Fear Mansion after it had been torn down. We stayed out all night, trying to contact a ghost.”
He sighed. “I thought it was a big joke. I didn’t believe in ghosts . . .”
“But you do now?” I interrupted.
Lewis nodded. “Yeah. We got a woman’s voice on tape. Very faint. But we could hear her. It was real. She was a real ghost. We taped her right here where the bar was built. Right on this spot.” He tapped the table.
I stared at him. “What happened to the tape?”
“Yeah. Can you play it for us?” Galen asked.
Lewis shook his head. “It disappeared. After that night Jamie and I fell in . . . after our accident . . . we couldn’t find it.”
I frowned at Lewis. “And you think a ghost made the cockroaches pour out of my mouth? And made my car go out of control?”
“Maybe a ghost,” Lewis said. “Maybe it’s some kind of Fear Street curse. Or evil spell. Or maybe it’s Candy getting back at you, Nate. Maybe she found a spell book or something that night in the hidden room. It’s possible.”
The four of us fell silent.
I didn’t know what to believe. What Lewis was saying sounded totally wacko to me. I didn’t want to believe in any of that. I didn’t want to believe Candy could cast spells. And I didn’t want to believe that old Fear Street ghosts were on the loose.
But how do you explain what had happened?
I stared at Shark. We almost died in my car, I thought. And the mechanic couldn’t find anything wrong with it.
“We can’t just sit here and wait for something else to happen,” I said. “We’ve got to find out who or what is doing this to us.”
Could we solve the mystery before the horror started again?
Actually, no.
PART FOUR
19
On Monday afternoon I went into the computer lab at school to Google some stuff I needed for a term paper. Shadyside High has a good computer lab with two long rows of cubicles. About twenty in all. Each cubicle has a desktop networked to a fast DSL line.
As I walked in I saw that the lab was pretty empty. Two ninth-grade guys huddled in the first cubicle playing Free Cell. At the end of the back row I saw Jamie typing away, concentrating hard on something.
Shark and Ada sat on high stools in a cubicle near the wall. Shark had headphones on. He was tapping his fingers in a fast rhythm on the tabletop. They both stared into the glare of the monitor.
“What’s up?” I asked Ada.
She shrugged. “Not much. I’m helping Shark find stuff he needs for his project.”
“Project?” I turned to the screen. Shark appeared to be downloading songs from iTunes.
I reached over and tugged off Shark’s headphones. “What’s up with this?” I asked.
“Hey, Nate. How’s it going? I’m downloading some jazz stuff. Mr. Hernandez said I could do my term paper on fusion jazz. You know. I’m kinda into that. So I’m making a mix to go with my term paper.”
“Cool,” I said. I examined the headphones. “Nice.”
He took them back from me. “Yeah, I brought them from home. They’re Bose. They were a birthday present. They’re amazing.”
Ada tugged at a silvery necklace that fell over her dark blue top. “Check this out, Nate. Cool, isn’t it? It’s real silver.”
“Very cool,” I said. “Was it your mom’s?”
“No way. I found it that night. You know. At the Fear Mansion. My mom says it’s a really old antique. I’ve had it hidden in the back of a drawer for a year. But, hey, why not wear it?”
“You should sell it,” Shark said.
“No way. I’m keeping it. Is that all you think of? Just money?”
“Yeah,” Shark said.
Ada gave him a shove that almost knocked him off his stool.
I heard the door to the computer lab close. I turned and saw Candy stride into the room. She carried her backpack at her side. She glanced around the room, studied the two boys playing Free Cell for a moment, then saw us.
I thought maybe she’d avoid us and go the other way. But a smile crossed her face, and she came hurrying over.
She wore very tight, low-riding jeans and a sleeveless pink midriff top that left about two inches of skin showing. She had a nice tan. Her parents had taken her to Paradise Island over Columbus Day weekend.
I saw she had that jeweled pendant on a chain around her neck. I think she never took it off.
Shark pulled on his headphones and turned to the computer. Ada and I looked away too. We thought maybe she’d take the hint.
But Candy seemed determined to talk to us. She stood there staring at Shark until he was forced to turn around. “What’s up?” he asked her, staring at her bare stomach.
She hesitated. Her cheeks turned pink. She fingered the glittering pendant. “This isn’t easy for me,” she said finally. “But . . . maybe we all should make up.” She turned to me.
Shark just stared at her, as if he didn’t understand the words. Ada and I exchanged glances.
The pink circles on Candy’s cheeks darkened to red. “I mean, we should start over. I don’t like having enemies, you know. We’ve known each other since fifth grade, right?”
Shark didn’t respond at all.
Candy let out a sigh. “Nate, help me out here. I’m trying to be, like, nice. You know.”
“That’s great,” I said without any enthusiasm. I didn’t know what to say.
She shifted her backpack to her other hand. “Well, anyway, guys, my parents are going away this weekend. I’m inviting a bunch of kids Saturday night to come over and party. I thought maybe you three . . .” Her voice trailed off. She kept her eyes on me.
Shark grinned at her. “Oh, wow, I’m busy Saturday night. I have to stay home and take out the trash.”
Ada burst out laughing.
It was mean, but I couldn’t help it—I laughed too.
Candy’s expression didn’t change. She just kept staring at me. One hand held on to the backpack strap. The other hand was wrapped around the pendant.
“I can’t make it either,” I said.
“Why not?” Candy asked.
I shrugged. “I don’t know. Just can’t.”
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Her eyes burned into mine. Her cheeks turned dark red.
“Okay,” she said softly. She turned and walked quickly out of the computer lab. She didn’t look back.
The door closed behind her.
Shark let out a giggle. Ada slapped him on the shoulder. “That was totally nasty,” she said. “Why did you do that?”
Shark’s grin faded. “She deserves it.” He started to turn back to the monitor.
But I made a grab for the headphones. “Let me try them,” I said.
Shark scooted out of the way. He showed me the volume control. “Here. Double-click this song. Crank it up,” he said.
I slid the headphones over my ears and adjusted them. I clicked on the song and started to listen. After a few seconds, I was nodding my head in time to the music. The sound was amazing. I flashed Shark a thumbs-up.
I let out a gasp when I felt something wet on the sides of my head. At first I didn’t realize what it was. Sweat? Something on the headphones?
I glanced down and saw two splashes of red on the floor.
“Hey!” I jerked off the headphones. And I screamed as bright red blood spurted—spurted straight out from both of my ears.
It felt so strange. Like my ears were open faucets. Two powerful streams of blood came spraying out. Streaming like a fountain . . . spraying the cubicle walls . . . staining the floor all around me. The sound of it roared in my ears.
This isn’t happening! I told myself. This is impossible.
My mouth wide in shock and horror, I pressed my hands against my ears. The roaring stopped. But the blood streamed over my hands, flowed down my arms, and on to the shoulders of my white T-shirt.
I felt weak. Dizzy. I dropped my hands, and the blood spurted straight out again, twin fountains.
“Hey!” Shark and Ada both cried out as a stream of blood splashed over them. They ducked and dodged out of the way.
The blood splashed against the walls.
My stomach lurched. The roaring in my ears was deafening. I saw Shark splattered with blood, staring in disbelief, unable to move or cry out.
And then I finally found my voice and started to scream. High, shrill cries of pain and terror.
“Help me! Please—HELP ME!”
20
Ada grabbed my arm. Shark took the other arm. Blood streamed from my ears onto the cubicle walls, puddling on the floor at our feet. They both grabbed me and led me out of the computer lab.
I pressed my hands against my ears, frantically trying to stop the flow. I heard kids screaming and crying out. But they were just a blur to me.
The blood washed over my face, my shirt. But I concentrated on walking, my legs suddenly rubbery and weak. Walking past the startled, horrified kids, down the next hall, to Miss Hanley’s office.
We burst into the small, narrow office. Miss Hanley was bending over a kid on the couch, taking his temperature. She dropped the thermometer when she saw me, saw the streams of blood, and heard my weak screams.
“Quick—over here,” she said, guiding us into the back room. Miss Hanley lowered me onto a cot. She stuffed big wads of cotton into my ears.
“What happened? How did this happen?” She couldn’t hide the fear from her voice.
I lay on the cot pressing the cotton wads to my ears, so weak, dizzy from losing so much blood.
“We—we don’t know,” I choked out.
“Nate just started to bleed,” Shark said, shaking his head.
I closed my eyes. I felt faint. As if I were fading . . . fading into sleep.
“We need to get an ambulance,” Miss Hanley said in a trembling voice. “I . . . I don’t understand this.”
She reached for the phone on her desk.
I opened my eyes. “Hey—,” I called out. “Hey—I think it stopped.”
Miss Hanson dropped the phone and hurried back to me. She moved my hands away from the cotton wads and carefully removed them.
In the wall mirror, I could see that my ears were stained red. I could see dark, lumpy clots stuck to my earlobes. But the blood wasn’t pouring out anymore.
I let out a long sigh of relief.
Shark sighed too and dropped onto the empty cot across from me.
“Yes, it seems to have stopped,” Miss Hanley said. She bent to examine my ears. “I . . . I’ve never seen anything like this.”
I groaned and started to sit up, but Miss Hanley gently pushed me back down. “Don’t stand up. You’ve lost a lot of blood. You may need to replenish it.”
“You—you mean—transfusions?” My voice was weak, just a whisper.
“I’m calling your mother,” Miss Hanley said. “Then an ambulance. You need to be checked out by a doctor.”
I sank back on the cot and shut my eyes. I still felt shaky. My heart was pounding like crazy.
I was covered in blood. The blood had caked onto my shirt and jeans. It smelled sour, kind of metallic.
“You and Ada had better go home and change,” the nurse told Shark. “Good work bringing Nate in here.”
Shark climbed to his feet. He and Ada started to the door, stepping over the trail of blood from the hall.
Candy walked into the doorway, her face red and tight with worry. “Is Nate okay? Is he going to be okay?”
“He’s doing better,” Miss Hanley said. “That’s all I can say.”
Candy pushed past Shark up to my cot. “You look so pale,” she said. She narrowed her eyes and stared at the clotted blood on my ears. “How do you feel?”
I mumbled a reply.
Shark stepped up to Candy. “How did you know Nate was in here?” he asked. “How did you know Nate was in trouble?”
A strange smile spread over Candy’s face. “I saw him in the hall,” she said. “What did you think?”
21
Two nights later I sat in the back booth at Nights. I still felt shaky, a little weak. And mainly, tense. I kept waiting for something else to happen. Wondering what would happen to me next.
I hadn’t slept. I had no appetite. I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I only felt comfortable late at night with my friends at Nights.
I didn’t want to believe that Candy was doing these things to me. I didn’t want to believe that she somehow had found the powers to hurt me.
Yes, she blamed me for the hog picture. And maybe she knew I was the one who smashed her car window. But was that reason enough to try to kill me?
No way. I didn’t want to believe it was Candy.
But what else could I believe?
I took a long sip of beer. I wanted to get trashed tonight. Maybe it would calm me down. Maybe for just a few minutes I could stop being afraid of every sound, every movement around me. Afraid of my own body.
Jamie and Lewis sat at a booth near the back, and I saw Candy at a back table talking with two girls from Waynesbridge. She had her back to me, so she couldn’t give me her usual evil eye.
I looked up and saw Galen walk in. He had a blue Cubs cap pulled sideways over his coppery hair. He wore baggy jeans under a faded red and gray Beastie Boys T-shirt.
“Hey, guys. Whassup?” he shouted. Just about everyone in the bar turned to look at him. “I’ve got it!” he called. “Nate—dude! I know why these things are happening to you! I mean, it’s unbelievable. You’re not going to believe what I found out.”
Whoa.
What did Galen find out? My heart started to pound like crazy.
Galen started past the bar, but Ryland raised a hand. He dropped the towel he was using to wipe beer glasses. “Hey, Galen—aren’t you forgetting something?”
Galen stared at Ryland for a moment. “Oh. Yeah.”
He backed up to the brass plaque of Simon and Angelica Fear on the wall. “Nate, wait till you hear what I found,” he shouted. “We’re going to need all the good luck we can get!”
He lowered his head to the plaque and kissed it, just above Angelica Fear’s forehead. It was a very long kiss.
I leaned forward over the
table and watched as Galen kept his lips pressed to the plaque. Why was he taking so long?
Was he trying to be funny, showing off what a great kisser he was?
No. It didn’t take long to see that it was no joke.
Galen started to squirm. He pulled back. But his lips . . .
. . . His lips stayed stuck to the plaque.
He let out a muffled shout. It took me a while to realize he was calling for help.
Galen had both hands pressed against the wall and was pushing back. But his mouth didn’t move off the plaque.
His face turned bright red. His Cubs cap fell off and dropped to the floor.
His cries grew louder. He twisted his head up and down and from side to side. He pushed off the wall with both hands.
It grew really quiet in the bar. Shark and I jumped to our feet. We went running to the front.
Ryland hurried out from behind the bar. He had his hand on Galen’s shoulder. “Calm, calm,” he kept repeating.
Sweat poured down Galen’s face. He shouted something, but I couldn’t understand him. He tugged back again—and cried out in pain. I could see that his lips were stuck tight to the plaque.
“I don’t get it,” Ryland said, scratching his spiky hair. “This is totally weird. This can’t be happening.”
My heart was pounding. I wanted to help—but how?
“Do you have any grease or anything?” Shark asked.
Ryland stared back at him.
Galen let out another shrill cry of pain. He kept trying to tell us something. But his mouth was stuck tight.
Ryland turned to the bar. “I’m going to call the fire department,” he said. “Maybe they can deal with this. I—”
“No—wait!” Shark said. He grabbed Ryland by the shoulder. “If you call them, we’ll all be busted. They’ll report us. Our parents will find out we’ve been sneaking out.”
Galen’s cries were weaker now. His face had gone pale. His hair glistened with sweat.
“Try some butter,” I said, finally finding my voice. “You’ve got butter, right?”
Ryland hesitated. Then he moved to a small refrigerator under the bar. He bent down and started fumbling around inside it.