Invisible Terror Collection (9 page)

“I don’t know,” Becka said as she and Ryan headed out into the hall. “Thanks, Susan.”

Susan followed them a step or two. “Be very, very careful.” Becka gave a half-wave as she pushed open the outside door and headed into the parking lot.

As the door slammed, Susan leaned against the wall. Then she went back into her office, crossed to her desk, and sat a moment.

As a Chris tian, Becka had no business going to a séance. And yet, she had to go to rescue her brother — maybe even the Ascension Lady …

Susan shook her head, then lowered it into her hands and started to pray.

**********

7:33 p.m.

Becka yanked the front door to her house shut and let the screen slam as she raced back to Ryan’s Mustang. She held a wadded piece of paper in her hand.

“Not there?” Ryan called.

She shook her head. “We’ve got to get to the mansion.” Ryan nodded and fired up the Mustang. “What’s the note say?”

She smoothed it out and read: “ ‘Beck: Julie called. They’ll meet you there. I’m grabbing a bite to eat with Darryl. Should be fun.’ ”

Ryan tromped on the accelerator, and they sped off.

Chapter 8

      7:53 p.m.

B
ANG!

The Mustang careened to the left. Ryan hit the brakes and fought the wheel, trying to keep the car on the road.

“What is it?” Becka cried.

“A tire!” Ryan shouted as he slowed the car and carefully nursed it toward the side of the road with the sickening
RUTT-RUTT-RUTT-RUTT
sound of a flat.

“Do we have a spare?”

“Yeah.” The car rolled to a stop, and Ryan opened his door.

“It’s going to take some time, though.”

Becka threw open her own door. “Can I help? What can I do?”

Ryan crossed to the back and opened the trunk. “Give me a hand unloading all this junk.”

Becka joined him and groaned. The trunk was full of crushed pop cans, a baseball mitt, various pieces of a tennis racket, a par-tially deflated soccer ball, dirty sweatshirts, torn jerseys, old high-tops, new high-tops, greasy two-by-fours, wrenches, ratchets, and other car junk — along with anything else Ryan had ever used since birth or planned to use until death.

“I know it’s in there somewhere,” he said.

She gave him a look. He shrugged. They started unloading.

**********

8:04 p.m.

“It is after eight,” the Ascension Lady said. “It is imperative that we be punctual.”

“If we could just wait a couple more minutes,” Julie said. “I know Becka wanted to be here.” She turned to Scott. “She did say she was coming, right?”

Scott tried to focus on Julie. The pounding in his head had returned — so bad he’d barely heard. “Yeah,” he mumbled,

“sure.”

“You don’t look so good,” Krissi said, adjusting her hair for the hundredth time. “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine,” Scott answered hoarsely. He had come for two reasons. The first was out of good old-fashioned curiosity. Second, he wanted to have a few laughs over the Ascension Lady’s new look. Unfortunately, by the time he had joined the others in the mansion’s dining room, his head hurt so badly he couldn’t laugh. He couldn’t even smile.

The Ascension Lady eyed him carefully. She knew something was up; she just couldn’t put her finger on it. She turned back to Julie. “I agree with you. I, too, would like to wait for Rebecca.

But Juanita has told me her murder occurred at ten at night. The corridor between our two worlds will be open only at that time.

If we are to help, I am afraid we must start now.” There were no chairs or tables in the room, so she motioned toward the floor. “Please.” She set her camping lantern on the hard wooden floor, dimmed its light, and eased herself down beside it, cross-legged.

       Krissi, Julie, Philip, and Darryl exchanged glances. It had been a surprise to see the woman with a dye job and her newly shaved head and eyebrows. Then of course there was her garlic breath. “Well, at least there’s no chance of vampires,” Julie had giggled. But now … now they were about to participate in something they were completely unsure of. Something Becka had warned them about. And something that Becka wasn’t even there to protect them from.

Philip was the first to sit. The others followed his lead, a little more reluctantly. But Scott held back. Something inside was telling him this was wrong, very wrong. And more than that — it was dangerous.

“What’s the matter?” Darryl squeaked good-naturedly. “You forget your flyswatter?”

The others chuckled nervously.

“I am sorry — ” The Ascension Lady was puzzled over the joke. “I do not understand.”

Philip explained. “Last night, when we were here, Scott had a little run-in with flies here.”

“Flies?” The woman turned to Scott. “You had an experience with flies in this house?”

Scott shook his head. “It was just my imagination, something I thought I saw. No biggie.”

The Ascension Lady looked at him very carefully. It was obvious she knew something he didn’t. And it was obvious that it made her nervous. “We must be careful,” she said, still looking at him. Then more quietly, she continued, “If you do not wish to join us, that is understandable.”

“No,” Scott said, sensing a challenge, “I’ll join you. Why wouldn’t I?” As he sat down in the circle directly beside the woman, part of him was already kicking himself for being such a hotshot.
She gave you an excuse. Why didn’t you take it and get
out of here?
But there was another part, the part that knew he had fought this sort of stuff before and won. The part that hoped last night’s experience was just an exception and that the authority he had would still beat the bad guys.

If only his head would stop pounding.

“Now — ” the Ascension Lady held out her hands — “if you would all join hands with one another to create an unbroken circle.”

They took each other’s hands.

“We shall start by emptying our minds. Think of nothing …

no worries, no cares … let your minds be free and empty.”

“No problem for you there, huh, Krissi?” Darryl cracked.

The others snickered.

“Quiet now.” The Ascension Lady frowned. “You must let your minds be clear … let the peace of the universe prevail.” They settled down. After a moment, Philip cleared his throat.

“I, uh, I don’t think I can do this.” All eyes turned to him. As the intellectual of the group, he was having a harder time shutting down. “I don’t know if I can just think of nothing.” The woman seemed to understand. “You must try,” she said.

“By emptying your mind, you will make it easier to hear from the beyond. You will make it easier for Juanita to communicate.”

**********

8:24 p.m.

The Mustang raced up the hill toward the Hawthorne mansion. It squealed to a stop directly behind Philip’s car. Changing the tire had taken longer than Ryan had expected, and both his hands and Becka’s were smudged with grease and grit. But at last they were here.

“Look!” Ryan pointed through the windshield up to the second-story window, the same window where Becka had first seen Juanita. There were fleeting, shadowy movements inside — fighting silhouettes — one larger, one smaller. A man and a girl. Ryan threw open his door. “We’ve got to stop them!” 

“Who?”

He leaped out of the car. “Juanita … or whatever … and whoever it is trying to kill her.”

Becka was out of the car too. “Ryan, no!” Her voice brought him to a stop. “That’s not Juanita; it can’t be. You said so yourself.”

“But — ” he pointed toward the window — “can’t you see them?”

She looked back up to the window. He was right — there was obviously something going on up there. And it definitely looked like a big man and a little girl. But they’d been fooled before.

“No.” She shook her head. “I see what I see …” She hesitated, then continued, “But I know what I know.” Ryan looked at her.

“We’ve been down this road before, Ryan. There are no ghosts. Only demons counterfeiting as ghosts.” He looked back up at the window. The fighting continued.

“It’s not real … it can’t be.” She forced herself to look away, to look directly at him. “If we go in, we have to remember that.

We have to go by what we believe. We believe the truth, God’s truth. The rest of that stuff — ” she motioned toward the window — “that’s all lies.”

Ryan turned to her. “So we’re back down to faith, huh?” She smiled and reached out her hand. He looked at it, then slowly took it. It was a pact, an agreement. He would do his best to believe. So would she. They turned to face the house. “Let’s do it” was all he said. They started across the lawn toward the front porch.

As they reached the massive stone steps, Ryan threw one final look up to the window. The shadows were gone.

They climbed the steps and crossed to a heavy wooden door.

Leaded glass panes ran down both sides of the entrance, reveal-ing a faint glow of light inside.

Becka knocked, but there was no answer. “They’ve already started,” she concluded. She grabbed the handle and gave the door a little push. It groaned quietly and opened.

Immediately they were hit by the smell.

“Whew!” Ryan said, fanning the air.

“It smells like rotten eggs,” Becka said as she coughed.

“It’s sulfur.”

Becka turned to him.

He nodded. “I’d recognize it anywhere. It happens in chemistry class sometimes when things backfire. Yes sir, that’s definitely sulfur.”

“Wonderful,” Becka muttered.

“Why, what’s up?”

“In the Bible, sulfur’s another name for brimstone.”

“Brimstone?” Ryan repeated.

Becka nodded. “As in fire and brimstone.”

“You mean like hell?”

“Yeah, like hell.”

**********

8:32 p.m.

Susan raised her head from her desk. She was exhausted. She had been praying nonstop for Becka and Ryan ever since they left her office. And still she felt something was wrong. She knew she had to keep interceding.

She reached for the phone and started dialing. Todd would be home. She needed help; she needed someone to join her. The battle was not over yet — in many ways it hadn’t even begun.

**********

8:34 p.m.

Becka and Ryan paused outside the entry hall a moment, each making sure the other was determined to go ahead — each unsure if they really wanted to. Gathering all of her strength, Becka finished opening the door and stepped inside. Ryan followed. It was the same entry hall they had visited the night before. The same gray slate tile, the same towering stairway, and the same crystal chandelier.

“Over there,” Ryan whispered. He pointed to a room a couple of doors down, through a distant archway. They could see the faint glow of a lantern reflecting off beige walls. A voice was quietly murmuring.

They started forward. The voice became clearer, and they recognized it as the Ascension Lady’s.

“Empty your minds … see if she would use you as a vehicle by which to communicate. Juanita, we are here for you. We understand your need, and we have come to help …” As Becka and Ryan approached the room, the group came into view. Julie, Philip, Krissi, little Darryl, Scott, and the Ascension Lady — all sitting in a circle holding hands with their eyes closed. The only light was from the camping lantern.

“I sense a presence,” the Ascension Lady said. “Juanita, is that you?”

Scott was the first to sneak a peek at Becka and Ryan as they arrived at the archway. The others followed suit. Everyone but Krissi. She and the Ascension Lady seemed to be oblivious to the newcomers. They were the only ones really getting into it.

“Is that you?” the Ascension Lady repeated. “Juanita, do you have something to say?”

Becka motioned for Scott to join her. He hesitated. She motioned again. Finally he pulled Darryl’s hand over and replaced it in the Ascension Lady’s. “Do not break the circle,” the woman warned, her voice sounding farther and farther away.

“Do not disturb the flow.”

Scott silently rose to his feet and stole behind the woman. “I feel movement,” she droned. “There is a definite stirring in the spirit world.”

Julie and Philip barely held back their snickers. Krissi, on the other hand, was totally gone. “Me too,” she whispered in excitement. “I feel it too.”

Scott followed Becka out of the room and behind the arch.

“You look terrible,” she whispered.

He nodded wearily. “I feel it. But I’m not giving in. Not this time. This time we’re going to fight to the end.”

“No, Scott.” Becka frowned.

“What?”

“You’re not ready. You’re not protected.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Ascension Lady … what you did to her hair, her breath.”

Despite the pain, Scott managed a grin. “Pretty cool, huh?” Becka shook her head. “No. That’s the problem.” He looked at her but didn’t understand. “Remember with that Ouija board, when they were supposedly calling up Dad — remember that section we’d read in the Bible about the armor of God? The shield and sword and stuff?”

Scott nodded, then winced. The pain in his head was getting worse.

“Are you okay?”

He took a breath, trying to fight off the throbbing.

“Yeah …”

She kept a careful eye on him and continued. “Remember all the parts of armor we’re supposed to wear?” Again he nodded.

“Well, we talked to Susan, and you’re missing a piece. The breastplate of righ teous ness.”

“The what?”

“Your pranks against the Ascension Lady, your unforgiveness toward her … God sees those things as unrigh teous.” Scott stared at her incredulously. “After all the junk she’s pulled, you think a little practical joke is wrong?”

“It’s not the joke, Scott. It’s you. Inside. We’re supposed to forgive — you know that.”

The throbbing increased. Scott took another breath, trying to hold the pain at bay. “After all they’ve done to us, you’re telling me we can’t …”

She nodded. “If you’re in it for revenge, if you haven’t asked God to forgive you for your wrong attitude, that’s exactly what I’m — ”

She was suddenly interrupted by a terrified scream. It was Krissi. They rushed around the arch and into the room. Krissi was holding her right hand directly in front of her. It was trembling. “My hand,” she cried, “what’s happening to my hand?”