Ready for a Scare? (4 page)

“What howling?” Spencer asked.

“Animals. The attacks started small. Rabbits and squirrels. Then bigger animals. Foxes. Deer.” Gavin swallowed hard. “The cries would then grow louder, more intense. The shrieks of geese. The wails of wolves.”

“Why were they making all that noise?” Paige wrapped her arms around a pillow, hugging it close.

Gavin blinked rapidly. A nervous habit? “Death is painful. Vicious. Especially under the powerful grip of the Lagad.”

“The what?” Was Gavin making this up? Normally Kelly would have thought so. But that cold, faraway look in his eyes was the stare of someone who had witnessed horrible things.

“The people who were natives to the woods called it—him—the Lagad. An ancient name.”

“What was it?” Paige wanted to know.

Gavin paused. “Hard to tell. Some said it was a man who had turned into a hairy, ravenous creature. Some said it was a huge creature that had humanlike traits. Whatever it was, it was supernatural and deadly. It descended from the mountains on this one night every year as an act of revenge against the loggers who had destroyed its lair on that very day generations ago. The Lagad returned to settle the score.”

“By killing animals?”

“It warmed up with animals,” he explained. “As the hour grew later, it tracked people. The same way some people hunt deer . . . silently following tracks . . . scents. Alone in your house, you were no match for the Lagad. You would hear the crunch of its footsteps, maybe the crack of a twig, the scraping of its claws against your door, and then it was all over.”

“Did you ever see it?” June asked.

His right eyelid twitched involuntarily as he measured his response. “Yes.”

Kelly could hear herself breathing. Had the creature done something that had caused Gavin to leave his home? To move down here?

Gavin stared into the distance, remembering that terrible time. “My brother and I were home alone. We should've been at Richardson's place, keeping the vigil with everyone else. But we were waiting for my dad. His truck had broken down, and he was coming from the mechanic. To get us. It was too long a walk in the cold to Richardson's, so we waited. We waited too long.”

Kelly pulled her sweatshirt sleeves over her hands. The darkness of the room cocooned her, transporting her to that desolate cabin in the northern woods.

“We were upstairs when we heard the noises at the back door. Grunts. Pounding. We huddled together. Terrified. It was here. It was coming for us. There was nowhere to hide. And then we heard the splintering of wood. . . . ”

Kelly could hear the scraping of the creature's claws. The cracking of the door as the creature banged its way into the cabin. So close. Scraping, scraping.

She let out a low moan as the sound grew louder. The creature was coming.

Suddenly she knew. The scraping wasn't part of Gavin's story. She could hear the sound. In her room. Behind her.

Something was trying to get in. Something was trying to get her!

She whirled around.

Nothing.

She scanned the darkness. Her monitor threw off enough light to make out the outlines of her bed, night table, and dresser. Gavin continued to speak, but she tuned him out. Slowly she stood. Her legs trembled as the scraping came again.

From the window.

Her hands freezing with fear, she edged away from the desk and stepped silently toward the window.

Kelly gazed though the window and jumped back. Bare branches slapped at the glass.

She shook her head at her own stupidity. How could she have gotten so sucked in by Gavin's story? It was just the wind causing the trees to scrape the windowpane. No one was there.

“Kelly? What happened? You okay?” Paige called out.

She was glad she was out of view.
I'm supposed to be the one doing the scaring,
she chided herself.
Not the one being scared. Such an amateur move.
From now on, she'd take control of the sleepover—at least, the scaring part.

She pulled the cord, closing her shade to the movements of the night. “Just checking on the storm,” she called back. “Wind's picking up.” She returned to her
position in front of her webcam as if she'd merely taken a casual stroll across her room. She'd missed the end of Gavin's story. She wondered what happened, although now, by the grins on her friends' faces, she suspected he'd been making it all up. Figured.

“I have an idea.” Paige leaned toward the monitor. “We should summon the dead.”

“I like it.” June nodded with a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Who should we bring back?”

“John Lennon?” Spencer suggested.

Gavin elbowed him. “Oh yeah, he's a real scary music dude.”

“How about Cleopatra?” June said. “She had the coolest jewelry.”

“No way,” Gavin retorted. “A mummy would be creepy. Not a queen.”

“I think we need someone we have a connection to. You know, to make it mean something,” Paige said. “Someone from around here. Maybe someone who died a long time ago in a strange way or—”

“Guys!” Kelly interrupted. “I have the perfect person.” She closed her eyes, bringing forth the pretty face in her mind. The clear, innocent gaze. She'd never
been one to believe in fate and all that. She was a straightforward facts kind of girl. But this felt as if it was meant to be. As if there was a true connection. “We will call forth the spirit of Miss Mary Owens.”

“Who?” all her friends wanted to know.

“I'll tell you about Mary.” She paused as the old heater in the attic above her clanked, revving up to fight the cold creeping through the ancient wood siding. The wind gusted, and the branches rattled against the house. “She died on a night like this.”

“How do you know about her?” Paige asked.

Kelly told them about the article she'd read that afternoon. “The year was 1966. Mary was young, like Chrissie's age. She'd come to our town to visit her aunt for the holidays. Her aunt lived out past the MacMaster farm, near the base of the big mountain. Back then there were no strip malls. Just houses and farms. And in Vermont, in the winter, there was snow. Lots and lots of it.”

She paused to recollect the story. “Her aunt threw a large party. Lots of people. Caroling and food and holiday cheer. Mary had an eye for beauty. She decorated her aunt's tree with dozens of candy canes. She wove garlands with those round red-and-white peppermint candies and
strung them throughout the rooms. Guests remarked on the scent of peppermint that filled the house. Mary even placed mints on a string and wore it as a necklace, surrounding herself with the holiday aroma.

“Now, crafty is nice where grown-ups are concerned, but Mary was beautiful, too. So, of course, the local boys at the party noticed her. And, of course, the local girls noticed the local boys noticing Mary, which didn't go over so well. Especially when some of those boys were the boyfriends of some of those jealous girls.”

Kelly pictured Mary sitting by the fireplace, in her red-and-white dress, laughing lightly as a group of boys brought her punch and iced gingerbread cookies. Good for Mary. Not so good for the ignored girlfriends.

“During the party, the phone rang. The caller asked for
Miss Mary.
Mary took the call in the privacy of the kitchen, but she didn't go back to the party. No one noticed it at the time. She immediately went out the back door, wearing only her party dress. Snow had started to fall, and more was on its way. No one would ever know who called or what the caller had said. But something drove Mary to walk through the snow, without a coat, to the shed at the farthest part of the property
in the darkness of a freezing winter night.”

“What happened then?” Spencer asked.

“Before this, there had been days and days of storms. Wet, heavy snow was piled everywhere. A huge mound of snow and ice had accumulated on the shed roof. Mary entered the rickety shed alone. Why? Who knows. The door must've slammed behind her, setting off an avalanche of the snow on the roof. The rumbling was deafening. There was no time to run. Nowhere to go. Tons of snow crashed in a wave as the roof crumbled.

“Mary was found the next morning. The article said the smell of mint filled the destroyed cabin. She had tried to claw her way out of the suffocating whiteness, and her bare hands were frozen in place. Her mouth was forever stuck in a horrified scream. She had been buried alive.”

The faint whirring of her computer was the only sound Kelly could hear. Her friends remained silent, their thoughts with the helpless girl.

Kelly continued. “Some of the girls from the party were suspected of luring her out there. But no one could prove anything. It could have been anyone. A secret past, perhaps? And no one could have known that all that heavy snow would have thundered down. The case
is still unsolved.” She took a deep breath and stared straight into the camera. “People say that Mary's spirit hasn't left the area. They say that she wanders about on the snowiest nights. They say that she strikes out at the young, trying to take their life the way her life was taken tragically early.”

“I say we find Mary.” June's eyes widened with excitement.

“Definitely,” Paige agreed.

“But how?” Spencer asked.

Kelly waited for Gavin to say something, but he remained silent. She took this as agreement. “Here's what we do.”

She frowned at Paige. Sprawled on her bed, her friend's fingers tap-danced across her phone. Paige was an obsessive texter. “Put down the phone. Put down everything. Full concentration is needed.”

Paige rolled her eyes, finished her text, and rested her cell on her night table.

Only the dim, greenish glow from the monitors illuminated each room, casting sickly shadows on the friends' faces.

Kelly recalled all she knew about summoning spirits
of the dead. “Next we each need a reflective surface.”

“What about our screens? I can sort of see myself in mine,” Spencer said.

“That should work,” Gavin said. His face appeared strangely pale. Bad lighting for them all.

“Okay, to call back Miss Mary, each of us must chant her name thirteen times as we spin in a circle. One chant per turn, our voices growing louder, drawing her to us. On the thirteenth time, stop spinning and stare at the reflective surface.” Kelly surreptitiously placed the little scream machine out of sight on the edge of her desk. Her plan was to press the button and sound the bloodcurdling scream at just the right moment to freak out her friends.

“Clear your minds,” Gavin instructed solemnly, as if he'd done this before. “Think only of poor Mary. Trapped in the snow. Alone. Focus on her tortured soul.”

Kelly bit her lip in anticipation as they began. Standing in the darkness, she slowly turned in a circle. “Miss Mary.”

“Miss Mary.”

“Miss Mary.”

Around and around they spun. Some standing, some sitting on revolving desk chairs.

“Miss Mary. Miss Mary.” Their voices rose, calling the name of the dead girl. The eerie green glow was the only beacon in a spinning whirl of darkness.

“Miss Mary. Miss Mary.”

Kelly was losing count. Losing balance. The face of Miss Mary swam before her eyes. Drowning in an avalanche of green light. Pulling her under. Down, down. Around.

“Miss Mary.” Calling for her. “Miss Mary!”

Louder, louder, their voices crying out in unison. Reaching beyond the years. Reaching into the depths. The air crackled around them. An electric current sent jolts throughout her body.

The final dizzy turn.

The screech of her name ripped from their throats.

And then the gasps. Kelly blinked, disoriented, hearing everyone gasp. Desperately she tried to focus on her monitor. She was dizzy. Oh, so dizzy.

“Kelly!” June's face froze in wide-eyed horror. “S-she's behind you!”

Swallowing hard, Kelly peered over her shoulder. Darkness greeted her. Her eyes roamed the room. Silhouettes of stuffed animals on her bed. The lump of her school bag on the floor.