The Book of Bad Things (19 page)

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Authors: Dan Poblocki

BOOK: The Book of Bad Things
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C
ASSIDY STOPPED READING
. “You guys, I think I found something.”

The others had left her alone on the couch and had gathered around Hal’s computer, presumably to look for the name of the company that had cleaned up Ursula’s property. Ping glanced over her shoulder. “What is it, Cassidy?”

Cassidy stood, realizing that she was holding her book out in the open for everyone to see. She’d never shown it to anyone, not since Levi Stanton had given it to her. “I — I’ve got this notebook,” she said. The boys turned to look at her too, obviously sensing something strange in her voice. “I collect information about … well, about bad things. And I remembered an entry I wrote about curses. I think you should hear it.”

“Go on,” said Joey.

Cassidy was surprised. She’d always assumed that people would make fun of her for it. But she shook off her surprise and read the entry aloud. “At this point,” she added, “I think it’s too late to get all the stuff back. The movers will only be more clueless and scared than we are. So instead of searching for the guys who emptied out Ursula’s house, we need to look up everything we can about curses. And how to break them.”

Hal wiped sweat from his top lip. “I think that’s a great idea.”

Cassidy slipped her notebook back into her bag, then joined the group at the computer desk by the window. “We might have to dig deeper than Wikipedia, but I’m not sure how.”

“I bet there’s a lot to read about curses in my magazines back home,” said Ping.

At the computer, Hal opened the browser and began to type something into a search engine. “Let me try.”

From the corner of her eye, Cassidy saw movement outside, in the Nances’ backyard. At first, she thought nothing of it. Branches swaying in the hot breeze. But after a moment, something clicked, told her to turn, to look closer.

Owen Chase was coming through the woods toward the house, stumbling stiffly along, his face pale and bloated, pulling branches and vines roughly out of his way. He was trailed by several tall shadowy figures and a smaller, dog-shaped one, all moving in a similar fashion, rigid, jerking, stuttered, but determined.

C
ASSIDY CRIED OUT.
The group jumped. She pointed at the glass. “They followed us!”

“Who followed us?” Joey shrieked.

“Followed us from where?” Hal whispered.

“Whoa,” Ping said. The group gathered beside her at the window. For several seconds, they stared in silent horror, watching as the pale things that had chased them up Ursula’s basement stairs pushed through the last barrier of brush and shadow and stepped onto the Nances’ patchy lawn.

A humming sound vibrated the air. It tingled Cassidy’s skin, tried to lull her heartbeat. In her head, she heard a deep voice whispering a slow chant. If it had been words, it would have sounded something like
Wait … Wait … Wait …

Five dead creatures paused and stared up at the house, as if they understood they were being observed. Lucky hung back in the shadows, but Owen Chase, in a shredded black suit and tie, stood beside his mother-in-law, Millie Moriarty, who wore a light-blue floral dress and one purple high-heeled shoe. Her other foot was bare. Her knobby toes had been painted pink. Each figure was dressed in what must have been their finest clothing — whatever their families had decided to bury them in.

Another man, if one could call him that, wavered on sticklike legs beside Millie. His clothes once may have been a nice shirt and pair of slacks but, after years in the dark underground, had become rags. His exposed skin was shriveled, vacuum-sealed to his bones. His jaw hung open, his lips pulled back to expose what were left of his brown teeth. His hair was long and gray and wet, plastered to his skull and neck, dangling down to his shoulders. As Ursula Chambers stumbled onto the grass beside him, wearing her burgundy funeral gown, Cassidy whispered, “It’s Aidan. Ursula’s uncle. He’s been down there with them too. Probably ever since he died. The house … No … The thing in the house,
the vortex-thing
, brought him back. That’s why he looks so …”

“Dead,” Joey whispered, his voice toneless, empty.

“Dead-
alive
,” said Hal.


That
Ursula is not the Ursula from my dream last night,” said Cassidy. “She’s not the Ursula who’s been warning people to return the things they took. This is the Ursula who belongs to the house.”

“Why are they here?” Ping asked.

“Why do you think?” Joey said.

Ping swallowed — an audible gulp. No answer required. She stepped away from the window, pulling Cassidy and the others back as well.

“Obviously they know where we are,” said Hal. “The house, or the thing in the house, sent them.” He sniffed. “They’re its sentinels. Its guardians.”

“Why would the house need guardians?” said Ping. “Unless it thinks of us as a threat?”

“It might.” Hal bit his lip. “Or maybe it just wants to own
us
too. They’re here to make sure that happens.”

“We have to go,” Cassidy interrupted, waving the group toward the foyer.

“Where to?” Joey asked. “They’ll find us. You know they will.”

“My car’s gone,” said Hal. “Obviously.”

“Then maybe we should stay put,” said Ping.

“We don’t have time to argue,” Joey said, pushing past Cassidy to the front door. “They’re out there.” He pointed to the back of the house. He turned the knob, and the door opened a crack. “And they’ll want to get in here. So that means we leave now. Walk, run,
unicycle
, I don’t care. We just —”

Ping screamed as a large, furry shape leapt upon Joey, shoving him backward into the Nances’ foyer.

T
HE DOG’S GROWLS ECHOED
off the high ceiling and mixed with the commotion of their panicked voices. It had pinned Joey to the floor. Once, a couple years ago, Cassidy had witnessed a similar scene, one in which Lucky’s kisses left Joey’s face covered in slobber and everyone involved was laughing. Now, Cassidy watched white teeth descend on her friend, the dog’s jaw opened wider than seemed possible, its black lips raised in a snarl.

Without thinking, Cassidy smashed its exposed torso with her backpack, knocking the creature off balance. Joey curled into a ball. For a moment, she felt nauseated. This thing used to be her friend’s pet.

It shook its large head. Its fur was matted with dirt and dried blood, and it stank like a festering wound. Its cloudy eyes locked onto her own, then it leapt at her. Cassidy threw herself to the side. What used to be Lucky collided with the wall behind her, leaving a large dent in the plaster, before tumbling to the tiled floor.

“Go!” she screamed. “All of you! Run!”

Ping and Hal grabbed Joey under their arms, lifting him to his feet, then dragged him quickly out the front door. Cassidy was on their heels as she heard the dog’s claws scrabbling against the floor behind her. She didn’t look back as she pulled the door shut. A second later, the door quaked. The group scrambled down the front steps.

The dog howled from just inside, a sound unlike anything any of them had ever heard. It seemed to rattle the ground, the grass, the molecules of the air. For a moment, Cassidy was certain that it was not the dog that they were hearing, but something else. Something deep in the ground at the top of the hill — that intelligent
something
that Hal had mentioned earlier.

Ping didn’t wait for the sound to stop before lifting Joey’s head to examine his face and neck. “Did he bite you?”

“I — I don’t think so,” said Joey. He brought up his hands, covered his face. His shoulders hitched. It took the others a moment to understand that he was crying, and only a moment after that, he forced himself to stop, wiping ferociously at his suddenly hard-set eyes. Cassidy thought she heard him mumble “Lucky,” quickly, quietly, the way you say “Amen” at the end of a prayer when you have nothing left to say, when it’s all over.

But it wasn’t over.

The dead clamored through several squat holly bushes at the corner of the Nances’ house, tearing through the shrubbery, their arms outstretched, their mouths open in silent stupor.

C
ASSIDY RAN TOWARD THE STREET
and didn’t look back. The lawn was soft beneath her sneakers. She wished it were snarled with rocks and vines so that the creatures pursuing her might trip and fall.

The group dashed out into the middle of the intersection where Hal’s street met Joey’s. To their surprise, Ping’s mother was in her minivan, slowing at the stop sign on the corner. When she spotted them, Mrs. Yu’s mouth dropped open, and she slammed on the brakes.

“Come on.” Ping waved the others forward, barreling toward her mother.

Mrs. Yu watched in astonishment as her daughter and her friends, along with a beat-up teenager, piled into her vehicle.

“Drive, Mom! Drive!” Ping screamed, leaning forward, peering down the street from which they’d come. It now appeared to be empty, as if the dead had hidden themselves in the holly.

“Okay! Okay!” shouted Ping’s mother, signaling to the right and slowly pressing her foot against the gas pedal. “Calm down!” She turned onto Hal’s street and eased toward the main gate. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing,” Ping said, panting. The others sat in the backseat, their faces pressed against the windows. “Nothing wrong. We just wanted to see you.”

“Really.
You wanted to see me
.” Mrs. Yu sighed, as if this were all part of a normal day. “Well, here I am. I’m heading to a meeting at the college. I’ll let you off on the corner.”

“No!” Cassidy, Joey, and Hal shouted at once. Mrs. Yu swerved the wheel as she passed by Hal’s house.

She started to pull over. From the backseat, Cassidy read the gauge. Mrs. Yu was driving under five miles per hour. “You guys, I cannot —”

“Take us with you,” Ping said, purposely calming her tone. She glanced in the rearview mirror at the side of the car. “We’ll leave you alone. Hang out on the quad.” She lowered her voice. “I promised them,” she said, in a please-don’t-embarrass-me manner.

“Oh, so you promised them,” Mrs. Yu said sarcastically. She stopped the car entirely, shifting into park. “Well, next time, you might want to check with me first, young lady. And also? Not a good idea to leap out in front of cars in the middle of intersections. Are you trying to get yourselves killed?”

“We didn’t want to miss you!” Ping tried.

“I almost didn’t miss
you
!”

Cassidy turned around and peered out the back window. The dead were hiding. She imagined them crouched in the bushes or waiting just around the corner of the house. Jaws hanging askew. Black liquid dripping from swollen tongues. Cassidy turned back to Mrs. Yu. What would happen if she told her what was going on? Would Mrs. Yu get out of the car? Go searching for the creatures? And if she found them, what then?

“We’re really sorry,” Cassidy said, trying to control the tremor in her voice. “It’s just, you know, I’m only visiting from the city for a short while. So Ping thought it would be fun for me to see where the big kids go to school. Something to look forward to.” She blinked. What if the dead suddenly sprang out and rushed the car, pounding and scratching against the windows with clammy hands? Then Mrs. Yu would have no doubt. They’d drive off to safety, but soon the adults would enter the Chambers house to search for a solution. And the curse would spread even further. “But never mind. It’s okay. We’ll just get out here.” Cassidy forced herself still to keep from shaking. She sensed that the others were trying to do the same.

Mrs. Yu checked the time in the dashboard. Then she knocked the gear back into drive. “Darn it, I’m late already.” She yanked the wheel and pressed the gas, hard this time, making the last turn onto the main road out of the Estates. “But promise you’ll never pull this stunt again.” Mrs. Yu glared at Ping. “You’ll be sorry if you do.”

“I promise,” Ping mumbled. She fastened her seat belt, then slumped down in the front seat, hugging her arms across her chest. Cassidy, Joey, and Hal simply stared at one another in the backseat, unable to express the horror that raced through their minds and stopped on the tips of their tongues.

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