The Black Heart Crypt (11 page)

The other two kids, the girl and the skinny one, did the same thing: They carefully selected two each. The dog just stood there, wagging his tail.

“Oh, Norman,” said Malik. “I brought this for you. Thought you might find it challenging.” He reached into his candy sack and pulled out a shiny black stone sculpted into the shape of a heart. “It’s a 3-D interlocking puzzle.”

“Interesting,” said Norman, even though he was much more interested in the mysterious Jenny waiting for him out on the sidewalk.

Malik handed him the black stone heart.

“Once you pry it apart, you’ll find a tiny black heart in the center of the black stone.”

“We think it’s onyx,” said the girl. “That’s a gemstone.”

“Great,” said Norman distractedly. “Can I keep it for a while? I’m kind of busy tonight.”

“Um, I guess so,” said the “B” with the glasses.

“This is my friend Zack,” said Malik. “Zack Jennings. The black heart stone belongs to his aunt.”

“Tell her thanks,” said Norman as he slid the hefty heart into a side pocket of his cargo pants.

He’d play with it later.

After the Halloween party with Jenny and the Icklebys, whoever the heck they were.

Zack sensed
that Malik’s friend Norman was nervous about something.

He had beads of sweat all over his shiny forehead.

“Hey, Norman?” A man with a shaved head and a tiny triangle beard on his chin stomped up to the counter. “Your father just called, said I could take the night off, seeing how it’s Halloween and I have a party to go to and you don’t because you’re such a loser so who’d invite you to their Halloween party except a bunch of even bigger losers?”

When the big guy stopped to snort some wet snot up his snout, Zack thought he looked and sounded like a college-aged version of Kurt and Kyle Snertz, the two bullies at his middle school (one of whom was now actually a friend of Zack’s).

“W-well, um,” stammered Norman Ickes, kind of cowering behind the cash register. “Okay, Steve. Have fun.”

“Don’t worry. I will.” He leaned down and yanked an extension cord out of its wall socket. “Your blinking
jack-o’-lanterns are blinking stupid. I told your old man they’re a waste of electricity. He agreed. Happy Halloween, loser!”

Laughing, the big jerk strode out the front door as some new trick-or-treaters came pouring in. They were all wearing very cool costumes but Zack’s eyes were riveted on the man who came in right behind them.

He had an old-school mullet haircut and was wearing a dark-blue peacoat with the collar turned up, like tough guys used to do in movies.

He also walked straight through a gum ball machine.

Because ghosts can do that sort of thing.

“Hello, Jennings,” the guy sneered. “Pleased to meet ya, you little cheese weasel.”

Zipper growled.

“Who are you?” asked Zack.

“Uh-oh,” said Malik.

“Um, Zack? Who are you talking to?” asked Azalea.

He pointed toward the gum ball machine.

“Do we have a live one?” whispered Azalea.

“Actually,” Zack whispered back, “it’s a dead one. Judging by his hair and clothes, I’m guessing he died sometime in the seventies.”

“What’s he want?” said Malik.

Zack shrugged. “Don’t know.”

“Well, ask him,” suggested Azalea.

“What do you want?”

“You, kid. Your family and mine? We got a score to settle.”

The ghost strolled closer, jabbed a thumb over his shoulder.

“Course, I couldn’t come at you earlier, not with all them jack-o’-lanterns glowing in the window. Those things ward off ghosts, man. But now, guess what? They’re all dark and you’re all mine!”

The ghost
dude with the bad hairdo struck a kung fu pose.

“Your family has dishonored mine, Jennings!”

Zack rolled his eyes. In his experience, ghosts, no matter how much they threatened you, couldn’t really do anything to hurt you; they could only scare you into doing something stupid to hurt yourself.

But then again, tonight was Halloween. The regular rules might be suspended for the ghost world’s big night on the town.

“Hi-YA!” The guy jumped into a sideways flying kick.

To be safe, Zack shoved Azalea and Malik out of harm’s way. “Watch out!”

Good thing he did. Karate man knocked over a whole display of saw blades, hammers, and screwdrivers. Hardware clattered across the floor. Zipper yelped and skittered sideways to avoid getting stabbed.

Oh, yeah. The rules were definitely different on Halloween.

“Hey!” shouted Norman Ickes from behind the cash register. “What’s going on?”

“Uh, sorry,” said Malik. “I bumped into this display.…”

“I’m gonna cream your two little friends, Jennings!” boasted the ghost. “And the dog? He’s dead meat!” He leapt into another flying kick.

“You guys!” Zack shouted. “On your left! Paint!”

Azalea and Malik jumped out of the way just as the ghost hit a rack stacked with paint cans.

Six shelves loaded with gallon buckets came tumbling down. A couple of lids popped open. Paint splashed across the floorboards.

“Hey! Why are you guys trashing my dad’s store?” shouted Norman Ickes. “I gave you candy bars!”

“It’s not us,” said Malik. “Honest. It’s …”

“An earthquake!” shouted Azalea. “Everybody out! Earthquake!”

Kids screamed. Norman screamed. Then, in a panic, everybody except Malik, Azalea, and Zack streamed, screaming, out onto the sidewalk.

“Go, you guys!” Zack said.

“You sure?” asked Azalea.

“Go to the van! Zip? Get help!”

Azalea, Malik, and a snarling Zipper bolted out the door.

“Far out,” said the ghost. “Just you and me, kid. Ickleby versus Jennings. Can you dig it?”

They circled each other.

“Who are you?”

“Your worst nightmare,” said Mullet Man with a sneer.

Zack backed up a few steps and realized he was standing in the worst possible place—right underneath a Peg-Board loaded with box cutters, knives, and scissors, all with their blades pointed down!

“Cool it, Eddie Boy,” warbled a familiar voice from the door.

It was Aunt Ginny, in her purple tracksuit, a white tube clenched in her fist. Beyond her, Zack could see his dad, Malik, Azalea, and Zipper out on the sidewalk.

“You!” said Eddie Boy Ickleby. “Where are your two grody sisters, you old hag?”

“At home, Edward. Packing flares just like this one.” She popped a plastic cap off the white stick. Struck it against the doorframe. Sparks sizzled. Smoke spewed. Aunt Ginny tossed the smoldering stick at the ghost’s feet.

“No!” The ghost sounded stunned. He stood stock-still, frozen in place.

“Aunt Ginny?” shouted Zack’s dad from outside. “Is that a stink bomb?”

“No, Georgie. It’s a smudge stick. Garlic, clove, thistle, peppermint, and of course sage. Lots and lots of sage.”

“Hate … sage,” gasped the petrified ghost. “Can’t … move …”

“Yep,” said Aunt Ginny. “Breathe it and weep.”

Thick white clouds billowed up out of the sizzling tube.

“You … wretched … old … witch!” The ghost choked as he clutched his throat. He seemed to be fading. Zack could see clear through him, like the ghosts in cartoons.

“What’s going on in there?” cried Zack’s dad.

“Just dealing with a nasty troublemaker from 1979.”

“What? Who’s in there besides Zack?”

“Nobody, dear,” said Aunt Ginny, moving closer to the gasping ghost. “Not for long, anyway.”

Aunt Ginny bent forward and spoke directly into the dematerializing man’s ear.

“It is time for you to leave. All is well. There is nothing here for you now.”

The ghost’s eyes went wide as he fought against the incantation.

“Go now, Edward. Complete your passing.”

And with one last whimper, the ghost vanished.

Zack looked at Aunt Ginny, his eyes filled with awe and amazement.

“Wow. That was incredible.”

“Is the ghost gone?” asked Azalea from the door.

“Yes, dear,” said Aunt Ginny as she briskly swiped her hands clean a few times. “One down. Eleven to go.”

“Is Zack
okay?”

Judy, at George’s suggestion, had put the phone on speaker. George’s aunts Hannah and Sophie were standing in the front hallway, mouths hanging open, listening.

“Zack’s fine,” said George. “Malik and Azalea, too. According to Aunt Ginny, it was one of the Ickleby ghosts.”

The two elderly aunts gasped.

“What’s an Ickleby ghost?” Judy asked.

“I’m not sure,” said George. “Aunt Ginny said she’d tell me more once we make certain Zack and his friends are safe and take care of the mess we made here at the hardware store. Oh, she did mention that there are eleven more of these ‘evil Icklebys.’ ”

“Eleven more?”

Now the two elderly sisters were nodding. Sophie was also nervously nibbling on a bite-sized Baby Ruth.

“Hang on, hon,” said George. “Aunt Ginny wants to talk to you.”

“Okay.”

“Judy? Am I on speakerphone, dear?”

“Yes, Aunt Ginny. What happened?”

“Oh, we just had an unfortunate incident. Everything’s fine now, just fine. Hannah and Sophie? I packed some extra sage candles in my trunk. Maybe you two should run upstairs and retrieve a few.”

“Sage candles?” asked Judy.

Judy saw Hannah and Sophie exchange worried glances.

“Well, dear,” said Ginny on the phone, “they’re actually more like portable smudge pots, if you will.”

“They stun evil spirits into submission,” said Hannah, sounding upset. “Come along, Sophie. It seems our baby sister has been up to some sort of mischief.” Hannah started trudging up the staircase to the second floor.

Sophie looked at Judy. Fear filled her eyes. “Will you be giving away
all
of the Butterfinger bars?”

“Sophia?” shouted Hannah from the steps.

“Coming.” Sophie followed Hannah up to the second floor.

Right after Judy slipped her a Butterfinger.

The doorbell rang as a new group of kids stormed up the front porch steps and screamed, “Trick or treat!”

Judy just hoped they weren’t little Icklebys.

“Trick or
treat!”

“Oh, my. Look at all these goblins and ghouls. Here you go, kids.” Smiling, Judy started doling out the candy bars. “Neat costume, Alistair.”