Ghost House

by Alexandra Adornetto

  “When were you going to tell me about what happened yesterday?”

  I tossed aside the remnants of my toast and decided to play dumb. “What happened yesterday?” Gran fixed me with an impatient stare. “Joe said something, didn’t he?”

  “If he did it’s only because he’s a responsible friend who happens to be concerned about you.”

  “There’s nothing to be concerned about.”

  Gran turned to my brother, who was looking back and forth at us like a boxing match was about to ensue.

  “Rory, if you’ve finished with your breakfast, I think Miss Grimes could use a hand in the kitchen.”

  I could tell he wanted to stay and watch the show, but when Grandma Fee pursed her lips and arched her eyebrows like that, it was better to just do what she told you. He pushed his chair back and shuffled away reluctantly.

  “Joe’s overreacting,” I said as dismissively as I could.

  “Joe Parrish doesn’t overreact,” she replied, like his word was scripture. “That’s why I’m worried.”

  “What exactly did he say?”

  “He seems to think you’ve been having seizures.”

  Oh, awesome, great way to underplay things, Joe. I tried laughing it off, but it came out sounding strained.

  “That’s ridiculous,” I told her. “I think I’d know if I was epileptic, Gran. They’re more like…like…”

  “Yes?” she said. “What would you call it, Chloe?”

  “I don’t know! Little dizzy spells, maybe? They only last a few seconds.”

  “Well, Joe seems to think it’s more than that. He said something about hallucinations, and I’ve no doubt it’s caused by a deficient diet. I’d like you to see my doctor and get some tests done.”

  I gritted my teeth and made a mental note to punch Joe in the face next time I saw him. He had one job, and that was to keep his mouth shut. Instead, he went running to my grandmother the first opportunity he got. As if I didn’t have enough stresses without her breathing down my neck.

  “It was nothing. I just need to get more sleep.” Grandma Fee narrowed her eyes, and a terse little “hmm” escaped her lips. “If it happens again, I’ll make an appointment with the doc myself.”

  “We’ll see,” she said. The way she said it, I knew I hadn’t heard the end of this. Not by a long shot.

  As soon as I was dismissed, I gave in to my overwhelming urge to find Joe and blast him for his betrayal. I marched off in the direction of the stables, where I found him mucking out the stalls in his old worn boots and a plaid shirt.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” I demanded.

  He jumped at my entrance and dropped the rake. One look at my face told him everything he needed to know.

  “Uh-oh.”

  “That’s right. I can’t believe you did that. Didn’t you say people call you The Vault? What exactly is your definition of a vault?”

  “Listen, Chloe…” He took a step toward me.

  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” I pointed a warning finger. “For your own protection.”

  “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. But I was worried about you. Really worried. Think about what happened, then ask yourself what you would have done.”

  He had a point there, but it wasn’t enough for me to relinquish my rage. “I don’t know, but I sure as hell wouldn’t have told Gran I was having seizures.”

  “Well…that’s sort of what it looked like from where I was standing.” He rolled his eyes back in his head and let his tongue loll out to one side. “Kind of like this.” He was only trying to lighten the mood, but it wasn’t going to work. Well, it was working a little.

  “Do you have any idea how much trouble you’ve gotten me into? Gran likes to interfere even when she doesn’t have a reason. Now she’s going to be sticking her nose into my business every day. Ask Rory if you don’t believe me. Where is Rory anyway? Is he here with you?”

  “No, down at the lake, I think. With our resident ghost busters.”

  “What?” That took my attention off myself. My anger ebbed like water down a drain. “What the hell’s he doing there?”

  Joe shrugged, but I could see my reaction surprised him. “Just helping out, I guess. That’s cool, right?”

  “Not really!” I couldn’t control how shrill my voice sounded. The face of the little boy from the newspaper clipping flashed in my mind. He had innocently wandered down to the lake and never come back. I didn’t know for sure how he’d met his fate, but the idea of Rory being so close to Isobel’s haunt made my stomach churn. “Who told him he could go out unsupervised?”

  Joe laughed at my dramatic reaction. “I’m sure Rory can take care of himself. Besides, he’s not unsupervised—he’s with two middle-aged adults.”

  “Two middle-aged nut jobs, you mean!”

  “That’s a little harsh. What are you so stressed about? Does this have anything to do with what happened yesterday?”

  I didn’t bother answering him. Instead, I turned on my heel and ran out of the stables. “Wait!” I heard Joe call behind me, but I wasn’t waiting for anyone.

  I pelted through the scrub at breakneck speed. All I could think of was the look on Isobel’s face when I’d last seen her. It was the same hungry look a wolf gets when it spies a deer ripe for the slaughter. Alex might have extracted a promise from her not to harm me, but their agreement hadn’t stipulated anything about family or friends.

  By the time the lake came into view, my sides were aching and I was out of breath. I spotted Rory right away, laughing and chatting with Mavis and May. It made me feel like a bit of an idiot for making a scene. The three of them were sitting in a wooden rowboat with chipped paint. Rory looked thrilled to be acting as oarsman while the sisters took their routine measurements.

  This time they’d brought along some new additions: what looked like a digital camera and something else I didn’t recognize dangling from a narrow pole. May was aiming a long flashlight between the reeds into the water. If it weren’t for the obvious age difference between them, they would have passed for three kids out in search of adventure. I was a little reassured by the fact that they’d been sensible enough to strap on life jackets, even though you couldn’t find a more placid-looking scene.

  The lake had a surreal quality that day. It was shrouded in mist, and the trees leaned gracefully over the water like dancers. Everything seemed fine on the surface, but I still didn’t want Rory involved in anything connected with the supernatural.

  “Hey, Rory!” I called out. “What are you doing? You need to get back here right now!”

  “I can’t,” he called back happily. “I’m the captain of this expedition.”

  Mavis and May both waved energetically as I shook my head. They were even more juvenile than my brother, only they didn’t have his age as an excuse.

  “We’re almost done here.” May’s reedy voice carried over to me. “Our new captain has been an enormous help.”

  “That’s great!” I called back as casually as possible, not wanting to alarm them. “But we have to go out.” Lying seemed easier than trying to explain my irrational fears. But my brother was having too much fun to let me interrupt it.

  “Right now?” he asked.

  “Yes. Now.”

  “Where we going?” I ransacked my mind for something guaranteed to eclipse his current euphoria.

  “Pizza,” I announced triumphantly.

  “Since when does Gran let us have pizza?”

  “As a special treat,” I yelled. “But if you’re not back at the house in ten minutes, you have to eat sushi.”

  I wasn’t sure if it was the lure of pizza or the threat of sushi, but I watched Rory do a double take and start steering the boat back toward the pier. Joe appeared at my side, hair tousled, but not even brea
thless from the run.

  “See.” He motioned to my little brother. “He’s perfectly fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

  No sooner were the words spoken than a sound reached us: a woman singing a doleful lullaby. I knew everyone heard it, because we all stopped to listen. Rory dropped his oar and May’s flashlight dropped into the lake with a soft plunk. We all stood, motionless.

  I saw something move under the water. The lake was already a murky brown color, like tea that had been brewed too long, so the thing was camouflaged at first. But as it rose slowly to the surface, I could make out a black hump covered in what looked like sludge. From where I stood, it looked like a giant rodent snaking its way closer to the boat. Still, no one seemed to register what was happening but me.

  “Rory!” His name caught in my throat. “Row faster!”

  But he wasn’t moving. He was mesmerized by the hypnotic melody throbbing through the air. His hand that had been clutching the oar had gone limp.

  The hump stretched out, seeming to elongate as it drifted alongside them, now close enough to knock against the side of the boat. It waited for a moment, as if playing a strange game, before rocking the boat. It was a gentle movement at first, the way you’d rock a cradle, but then it built in momentum. Mavis and May both scrambled back as a thick mist crept over from the reeds, obscuring their vision. The tendrils engulfed the little vessel like hoary fingers.

  I realized how far down the bank I’d ventured when icy water flooded my shoes. I hadn’t even noticed, because from my new vantage point I could see that the seaweed wasn’t seaweed after all, but ribbons of long, black hair. And the lump was no animal, as I’d first thought. It was a woman in a black lace dress, floating faceup in the water.

  I’d never known a fear so intense that it could wipe out thought. Tension filled my body as I watched Isobel’s corpse drift on the water, her heavy dress billowing like a parachute. I knew she was just waiting for the right moment to pounce. Ordinarily, in instances like this, my first instinct would have been to run. But I couldn’t. There was no way I was turning my back on my little brother, not even to run for help.

  Clouds rolled overhead, and thunder sent a clear warning for us to take cover before the skies opened and let fire.

  “Rory! Get away from there!” My voice reverberated around the lake, sounding like that of a stranger. Through the mist that had fallen over the lake like a gauzy curtain, I saw my brother pick up his oar. The Hunt sisters were gazing around with a mixture of fear and anticipation. I wanted to tell them they were idiots, playing with fire and just waiting to get burned. Third-degree burns. They didn’t know about Isobel. They were nothing but pawns in her demented chess game, and she could obliterate them all without batting an eye.

  Only one thought offered me hope, and that was that her appearance was meant only to frighten me. But I wasn’t naive enough to believe that. I’d seen enough to know that Isobel didn’t play fair, so I made a decision on the spot. As soon as I got Rory out of danger, I was going to come clean about everything to Grandma Fee, even if she dragged me to the closest psych ward by the ear. I wasn’t equipped to handle this, and I wasn’t too proud to admit it. Besides, how would I live with myself if anything happened to Rory because I failed to speak up?

  I suddenly realized that Rory was rowing with all his might but getting nowhere. Something was wrong. Why weren’t they moving? An unseen force was holding them in place. The scene was surreal, like looking at a painting of a lake with a rowboat frozen on the water. I was certain of one thing. Alex was the only one capable of exerting any influence over Isobel now. But where was he? He should have been able to sense we were in trouble.

  “Come on!” I cried, my throat raw from shouting. “Rory, look at me!”

  “It’s okay, Chloe!” Mavis hollered breathlessly. “We’re perfectly safe.”

  That told me that they couldn’t see Isobel and were unaware of how close they were to real danger. They were fascinated by what was happening around them, because there was no feasible explanation. This was probably a life-changing moment in their nonexistent careers as paranormal investigators, and they were loath to let it go. I shook my head vehemently.

  “You don’t understand! Please listen!”

  The bloated corpse continued to float eerily alongside them. Her eyes were closed and her lids blue with cold. Her face was a frozen mask. Water lilies were scattered around her, and some had caught in the loops of hair that fanned out in the water like an ink stain.

  I was up to my knees in the water now, urging them back. I squatted, trying to get a better view between breaks in the mist. I wanted to scream the truth at them, but I didn’t know what effect that might have. I didn’t want to frighten Rory any more than he already was. Panic could only make his situation worse. I just needed them to reach the riverbank before the creature in the water did something unexpected.

  “Alex, where are you?” I cried helplessly. That was a serious mistake. The ghost heard me and reacted instantly. Isobel’s eyes flew open. She rolled over so that her face was submerged with only her dark, crazed eyes lurking above the surface. She looked directly at me.

  Then she sank out of view. For a moment, I thought she’d gone, until I saw her head appear beside Rory. He was bundled up next to May in his quilted blue parka, chewing the inside of his lip, a habit he had when he was nervous.

  I plunged into the frigid lake, but it was too late. A bony hand emerged from the water, skin wrinkled and puckered, fingers laced with algae. All my worst fears were realized when it reached up and gripped the side of the paddleboat.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “Rory! Watch out!” I screamed. But there was no way he could see what I saw, a dead hand slowly inching toward him. I watched, helpless, as it finally closed over his wrist. Rory let out a shudder without knowing why. A look of surprise crossed his face when he tried to pull his hand away and couldn’t. It was held in a viselike grip.

  The Hunt sisters looked around in bewilderment as Isobel began to haul Rory out of the boat. Mavis lunged for him, wrapping both sinewy arms around his waist and using her body as an anchor. But the supernatural force was too strong for her to resist. Both women shrieked in tandem when my brother was pulled over the side into the lake. Until that moment, the water had been strangely still. Now it started to churn violently. Rory struggled until he disappeared completely from view and all that remained was his beanie, bobbing on the water.

  If I hadn’t known about Isobel I’d have thought I was watching a scene from Jaws. Rory thrashed and fought his way back to the surface. What scared me the most was that he wasn’t calling for help; he was too busy struggling for air. I swam toward him as fast as I could, but he was too far away; I wouldn’t reach him in time. How long did it take for someone to drown? Was it three minutes or five? His heavy jacket was quickly absorbing water, weighing him down. His arms flailed uselessly against his invisible assailant. With a strangled splutter, he went under again.

  All of this happened really fast, but it felt like it was playing out in slow motion. I was a reasonably good swimmer but cold and shock slowed me down. It had always been my job to look out for Rory. His slight build, plethora of allergies and preference for chess over football had earned him a life of torment at school. I was his safe port. I was the one who confronted the bullies and warned them not to mess with my kid brother. I couldn’t let him down now. But I felt like I was like swimming against the tide, encountering invisible resistance.

  Just when I thought I couldn’t compel my arms to swim another stroke, I heard something crashing through the scrub around us. A blurry figure sailed past me, arcing through the air to dive into the wintry lake. It was Joe. He’d chased after me, no doubt worried I’d come to harm. I could tell he was a strong swimmer by the way his arms sliced through the water. It didn’t take him long to reach Rory. Once he
did, he expertly grabbed hold of my brother from behind, a calculated move, because Rory’s panic might otherwise have dragged them both under. Joe managed to wrap an arm around my brother’s neck to keep his head above water.

  There was a short lull of silence, but it felt eerie. I didn’t dare allow myself to relax. Then the water started churning again. Suddenly, a wall of it rose freakishly in front of the boys. It hovered in midair for a moment before cascading down over their heads. Joe looked stunned but was quick-thinking enough to brace himself as they were both dragged under again. When they emerged, I saw his eyes darting fiercely around in search of some unseen foe. But he wouldn’t find her. I watched in horror as Joe’s gaze began to grow distant. He stared into space, eyes unfocused, oblivious now to the turbulence around him. My heart somersaulted as I realized that Isobel had gotten to him. His body was starting to slacken. Rory began to slip from his grasp. Within a minute or two they would both drown. There was only one thing left to do.

  “Alex,” I screamed. “Help us!”

  The words were barely spoken when he appeared as a vision on horseback on the opposite side of the lake. He was wearing the long fawn coat I’d seen once before and his golden hair was swept boldly away from his face. He dismounted and stood at the water’s edge. But why did he look so calm? Why wasn’t he disrobing and going in after them? Instead he simply called out “Isobel!” in a commanding voice that seemed to echo for miles.

  Isobel’s head emerged from the water like a siren, an ecstatic light in her eyes. He kept his gaze fixed on her as if the rest of us didn’t exist.

  “Isobel,” he repeated, extending an arm. “Come to me.”

  I watched her grisly form rise from the water as she mouthed his name. Alexander. Like a sleepwalker, she moved across the water toward him.

  “Make haste, my love,” Alex continued. “The day is almost done.”

  It must have made her recall some long-lost memory, because a flicker of a smile crossed her face. The deranged look was gone now, and she moved toward Alex as if under a spell. Her hair was bedraggled, her garments sodden, and water rolled off her in tiny rivulets. She was a sight to startle even the dead, but Alex looked deep into her eyes as if she were the most beautiful creature he’d ever beheld. He swung gracefully back onto his horse and reached down a hand to her. She clasped it eagerly and in one swift movement he hoisted her up. She leaned tenderly against him. It was strange how completely transformed she was in his presence. I started to realize that what Isobel really wanted wasn’t revenge, and it wasn’t my heart on a platter, like I’d first assumed. All she wanted was Alexander Reade, and she wanted him for the rest of eternity. It was really that simple.