The Haunted (34 page)

Julian didn’t know how to respond to that.

Spencer sighed. “It’s not your fault. It might not even be your house, exactly. This whole street is … off. But your house is at the center of it, and the Ribieros live right next door.” He thought for a moment, as though not sure whether he should say what he wanted to say. “You know, the reason some of us, a
lot
of us came to your party, your housewarming party, was because we wanted to see the inside of it for ourselves. And when it … when it ended the way it did … Well, let’s just say that most of us weren’t that surprised.”

Julian felt a thrill of excitement. “So you know something!”

The old man shook his head, backed away. “I don’t know anything.”

“You weren’t surprised? Why not? You
do
know something.” Julian moved up a step. “What’s going on here? What’s wrong with our house?”

Spencer reached the door. “I don’t know, and I don’t want to know. Forty years I lived here, minding my own business. That’s the only way to survive: don’t get involved.” He pulled open the screen door, stepping inside. “Now go home. Get away from here.”

“Spencer?” his wife called from inside the house.

“Coming!” he answered.

He closed the door.

Julian turned around. From this vantage point, there seemed nothing wrong with his house. Or the garage. But he knew better, and Spencer Allred did, too. Probably most of the homeowners on this street did, and as he walked back home, he wondered whether the ambulance siren had been off because Elise Ribiero was already dead.

Megan awoke in the morning refreshed. She was used to feeling tense and stressed when she emerged from sleep, and this was such a pleasant change that she lay there for a few extra moments, staring up at the bands of light formed on the ceiling by the sun shining through slats in the shades, enjoying the sensation of freedom.

Freedom from the house.

It felt over, all of it, despite what had happened the night before last, and she reached over to the nightstand and turned on her iPhone, not afraid of it anymore. She might even text her friends today, and just thinking that made her feel good. Putting on her robe, she walked across the hall to go to the bathroom and was embarrassed when she pulled down her pajama bottoms and saw the cuts on her legs.

That ended today, too.

She was not much of a breakfast eater, but once again her grandma had made a big breakfast—pancakes and bacon—and out of politeness, Megan forced herself to eat.

For some reason she could not explain, she wanted to go back home. Not to stay, of course. And definitely not at night. But in the daytime, when it was safe.

When her dad was there.

Part of it was that, of course. It had been only one night, but she missed her dad, and it didn’t feel right without him here. James had worriedly asked before breakfast whether their parents were going to get a divorce, and she’d told him no, but she wasn’t sure that was true. It didn’t make any sense for the family to be separated like this, and she knew that Grandma and Grandpa thought there was something wrong, which they tried to make up for by being especially nice to her and her brother. She hoped that wasn’t the case, but she thought of how angry her mom had been—

We need to get out of here! All of us! Right. Fucking. Now!

—and it troubled her. Talking to her dad might help. He was always more honest with her and James than their mom was, and he might be willing to give some honest answers.

But that was not the only reason she wanted to go back.

No. She also wanted to return home to see whether things had changed.

By all rights, their house should have been the
last
place she wanted to go. She was finally brave enough to use her phone again, finally felt free to text, and it made no sense to go back to where she’d been so threatened and terrified.

I will kill you both.

But, for some reason, she had the impression that whatever had been in the house was gone—and she wanted to check it out for herself. The feeling of freedom and liberation that had been hers this morning since awakening was not one she had felt when she’d left the house before. In fact, the black cloud that had hovered over her at home had previously accompanied her no matter where she went. Now, however, it was
gone, and she didn’t think that would be possible unless whatever had been living in their house had left.

It was important for Megan to find out for herself whether that was the case, and she was hopeful that if the house really was free of all … ghosts … demons … whatever they were, things might be able to go back to normal.

At first, she planned to call her dad and tell him she was coming over, but after everything that had happened, he might not want her in the house, so it would probably be better if she just showed up. And while she’d considered asking her mom whether she could go, she knew the answer would be no, so instead she texted Zoe, asking her friend to call her back immediately and pretend to invite her somewhere. It was a ploy they had used before, on both of their mothers, and it worked every time.

Zoe was either busy or her phone wasn’t on, because it was nearly a half hour later, as her mom was getting ready to say good-bye to them before going to her office, that Zoe finally called. Megan made sure she picked up in front of her mother and grandparents, spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear, and in response to Zoe’s question, “So, what’s the plan?” she replied, “I’d love to! Let me ask my mom.”

Megan turned to her mother. “Zoe wants to know if I can go with her to the Kachina festival at the park.”

James was glaring at her, letting her know that he thought she was a traitor for leaving him alone. Grandma and Grandpa had strict rules against daytime television, and severe restrictions on when and where James could play with his DS. Without Megan, he was looking forward to a long, slow day of dominoes and gin rummy.

She was taking a big chance here. The park was within
sight of her mom’s office, and it would be very easy for her mother to find out she was not really there. But the brazenness of the lie was what might make it work. Besides, there really
was
a Kachina festival at the park, and if called on the carpet, she could always claim to be in a part of the crowd that her mom had not seen.

She was suddenly struck by an even better idea: after going home and checking the place out, she
would
go to the park. And she and Zoe would stop by her mom’s office to say hello.

All bases covered.

“Sure,” her mom said. “You can go. It sounds like fun. Do you want me to drive you two?”

“No,” Megan said quickly. “We’re riding bikes.”

“But your bike’s still at the house.”

“I mean, Zoe’s riding her bike over here. Then we’re going to walk.”

Her mom frowned. “It’s kind of far. I’m not sure I want you to—”

“I’m going to be in eighth grade, Mom. Jeez! You think I’m such a baby that I can’t walk down the street by myself?”

“No. I’m just saying that it’s a little far away. And maybe the streets of Jardine aren’t as safe as we thought they were.”

Megan knew her mom was thinking about what had happened at their house, and she had no ready answer for that. On impulse, she put the phone back to her ear. “My mom says I can go, but she’s worried about me walking there. Can your mom drive us?”

“Where are we really going?” Zoe asked.

“Zoe says sure, her mom’ll take us.”

“Okay, then.”

Megan gave Zoe her grandparents’ address, then
hung up, smiling her thanks at her mom and ignoring James’s hostility. She felt guilty for the deception but was determined not to show it.

It occurred to her that this was a trap, that she was being lured back to the house deliberately, but that worry was fleeting, displaced almost instantly by the need to ascertain whether or not the house was still haunted.

I will kill you both.

Zoe lived only a few blocks away from her grandparents’ place, and she showed up on the doorstep less than ten minutes later. Megan had taken the key to her house from her purse and put it in her pocket, which was hard to accomplish surreptitiously with James following her like a puppy everywhere she went, begging her to take him with her. Ordinarily, she would be taking great delight in his suffering and would be milking it for all it was worth, making him dance through hoops before finally telling him that he could not accompany her, but she had more important things on her mind this morning and ignored him completely, pretending he wasn’t there.

Her grandma offered Zoe some orange juice, but Megan said they had to get going, and after promising to be careful and to be back for lunch, she and Zoe finally made it out the door.

It
was
a long way to their house and the old downtown, and though to do so was unsafe and wobbly, the two of them rode together on Zoe’s bike, which, luckily, had a retro banana seat that could accommodate both of them. Zoe pedaled slowly, staying on sidewalks as much as possible, and it was nearly a half hour before they turned onto Rainey and pulled to a stop in the driveway of Megan’s house.

She hopped off the bike. The van was gone, which
meant that her dad wasn’t home. She didn’t like that. She thought about waiting outside for him, or even coming back later, but it had taken a lot of subterfuge to get here, and this might be her only chance. She’d known that already, which was why she’d brought her key, but the prospect of going in alone still made her nervous, and she looked from window to window, trying to spot anything out of the ordinary.

“So, why are we here?” Zoe asked. They hadn’t been able to talk on the bike, and while that should have given Megan enough time to come up with a plausible explanation, she hadn’t done it. Although she didn’t want to lie to her friend, she didn’t want to spell everything out, either. She wanted Zoe to go in cold, wanted to get her honest, unbiased opinion of the house.

“I need to … get something out of my room,” Megan said lamely.

Zoe looked at her. “Really?” she said dryly. “You called me up, lied to your mom about where you were going, had me sneak you out here on my bike … so you could get something out of your room.” She was about to say something else sarcastic when a strange expression crossed her face. “Wait a minute. You’re not … I mean …” Zoe looked at once worried and suspicious, shocked and scared. “We’re not here to get
drugs
or something are we? Marijuana?”

“No!”

“What is it, then? You didn’t go through all this effort for nothing.”

“I can’t tell you yet. Just … just trust me.” Before her friend could respond, Megan was taking out her key and walking up to the front door. Her heart was pounding. She really didn’t want to go in, but …

She turned the key in the lock, opened the door.

The two of them walked inside.

Everything was where it was supposed to be. Nothing had been moved. She wasn’t sure why this surprised her, but it did. The morning was bright, and sunlight streamed through the windows, but Megan turned on the light in the living room anyway.

Something about the house had changed.

She couldn’t put her finger on it, but the feeling she got from being here was different from what it had been before. Not better, necessarily. But different. The discomfort she felt now seemed less intimate, less immediately threatening, although it was still there. She said nothing to Zoe, not wanting to frighten her friend, but she could tell that Zoe felt something, too.

It wasn’t gone.

She’d been hoping everything would be back to normal and they could all return and live happily under one roof. Her disappointment was overwhelming, and it was all she could do not to cry in frustration. But fear overpowered disappointment, and Megan realized that even with the light on, the living room still seemed dark. She had no desire to go deeper into the house, to go upstairs or down the hall or into the kitchen. She wanted only to get out of here, and was about to tell Zoe that they should do just that, when the lights went on in the dining room. And then the kitchen.

“Megan?” Zoe said nervously.

Upstairs, something heavy fell to the floor, shaking the whole house.

“Megan?”

The danger was palpable. She wasn’t supposed to be here and would get in trouble for coming over, especially when no one was home, but that didn’t matter. She was worried for her dad, and she immediately sent Zoe outside while she wrote her dad a quick note, using a
pen and the back of an envelope she found in a pile of mail on the coffee table:

Dad,

Zoe and I stopped by while you were gone. Don’t tell Mom.

We heard a loud noise upstairs and the lights came on by themselves.

You need to get out of here. You can’t stay. It’s dangerous. Please!

I’ll call you when I get back to Grandma and Grandpa’s. Leave your cell on. Don’t stay here, Dad.

Please! I don’t want anything to happen to you. I’m scared. I love you.

—Megan

She left it where he would be sure to see it, leaning the envelope against the TV screen in the living room.

There was another loud noise from upstairs, a thump, followed by a high-pitched whistle that could have been a teakettle, could have been a bird, but was undoubtedly something else.

She hurried outside, closing and locking the door behind her, then looked around for Zoe. Her friend was nowhere to be seen, and, worried, Megan called her name. “Zoe!”

There was an answer from the backyard, and it was with a feeling of dread that Megan walked up the driveway and around the side of the house. It had been wrong to come here, and she wished now that she had just listened to her parents and stayed away. Something could happen, and if it did, no one knew where she was.

Zoe was standing by the back fence, by the gate that led out to the alley. “Your yard’s dead,” Zoe said, motioning in front of her. “Don’t you guys ever water it? All your plants …”

“They died overnight. We don’t know what happened.” She was about to say that it was probably some disease, but she decided not to lie. She wanted Zoe to know what was going on, wanted someone besides her family to be a witness.