CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
There was no time to waste.
I had to find a way out before Chris murdered Alan (and his imaginary second brother) … and came back for me. Unfortunately, speed wasn't exactly my forte right now. I did a quick self-examination of my injuries. My arm and clothes were smeared with blood from the cut I'd sustained on the staircase. Nothing a band-aid couldn't fix. I gingerly moved my limbs—nothing broken. Just. Every part of me was bruised and throbbing. The worst was my head. I'd hit it hard. I could feel a swollen lump forming on my cheekbone, and my nose was starting to bleed.
None of these injuries, though, compared to the pain I was feeling from Alan. He was on the brink of death, I could tell. His extreme discomfort was being transmitted to me, and it made me feel like throwing up my insides. My feverishly hot skin oozed with sweat, mixing with my blood to form a disgusting cocktail. White pinpricks flashed in front of my eyes. I was losing my vision as dizziness overcame me.
I shook my head weakly. I had to fight this if I wanted to have any chance of survival. Gritting my teeth, and desperately resisting the urge to pass out, I crawled towards the garage door. It was made of solid, heavy steel. I examined the hinges through my blurred vision. I'd been hoping for an automatic door with an internal opening switch. It was a manual door, and it was locked solid … from the outside.
Frustrated that my valiant efforts had amounted to nothing, I collapsed onto the concrete floor, gasping. I couldn't go on. I just wanted to rest.
Help me, Fiona.
Alan's feeble voice echoed in my mind, snapping me out of my self-pitying stupor. I had to fight. I had to keep going. Alan and I were not going to become ghosts today if I could help it.
Painfully, I climbed to my feet again. I checked the car. If the keys were somewhere around, I could ram it through the door. I scrambled around the garage, searching for the keys.
No key hooks on the wall.
No cupboards or furniture hiding keys.
No key under the door mat.
No key wired under the car.
Slumping onto the bonnet of the car, I gave up. This was useless. The keys were probably in Sharelle's handbag. I desperately checked my phone. Chris' nearby presence was causing it to malfunction, as I'd expected. I wouldn't be able to call for help.
Angry tears welled in my eyes. I felt helpless. I didn't want to just wait here for Chris to come and kill me, but I didn't have a clue what to do next, and I was hardly in the best frame of mind for thinking up clever escape routes while my brain was overrun with Alan's pain.
Then it was too late.
Click.
The internal door was unlocked. Chris was coming back.
I sprang into action. There was no point hiding, or trying to knock Chris out when he came through the door. Physical barriers were of no concern to a ghost, and whilst it was actually possible to knock out a ghost (I'd accidentally knocked Ella out a few times in the past), in my weakened state, and with Chris' supernatural strength, it would be almost impossible to do. My only chance would be to try to stay alive until I thought of a way to escape from the house and get help for Alan. I grabbed the closest weapon I could see—a portable bicycle pump—and braced, ready to defend myself from an attack.
Slowly, the door crept open. I decided to have another go at getting Shane's attention. I desperately hoped he was finished in the shower.
'Shane! Help me! Help me! I'm in the garage!' I yelled.
At the sound of my voice, the door swung open violently. An angry, masculine figure stormed towards me.
'Shut up!' he hissed, and clamped his hands roughly over my mouth in an attempt to mute me.
He needn't have bothered. I was already speechless.
The guy who was currently adding to my face-bruise collection wasn't Chris. It was Shane.
'I told you to stay away from Chris!' he whispered angrily. 'What are you doing here?'
'Mmm-mmm-hhh!!!!!' It was a little difficult to reply while he gagged my face. I'd never been more pleased to see anyone in my life, but I still thought he could do with a few extra brain cells.
I prised his fingers off my mouth.
'Chris is here! He's trying to kill Alan, and he's coming back for me! We have to stop him!' I blurted frantically.
'Shhh! I know. Why do you think I'm here?' Shane whispered. 'Okay, now listen carefully. Chris doesn't know I can see him. I've been hiding my abilities from him for the past few weeks while I worked out what he's up to. I know he's trying to kill Alan. And he'll kill you too if he gets half a chance. We have to get you out of here. Then I'll sort out Chris.'
I felt a wave of relief wash over me. Shane was going to save us. I'd misjudged him badly. He hadn't been trying to kill Alan after all. He'd been trying to protect him.
Noticing the rise in my spirits, Shane's eyes narrowed.
'Don't get the wrong idea, princess,' he sneered. 'I don't really care what Chris does to you, or to his weakling brother either. You had your chance with me, and you blew it. He can drag you into the underworld with him, for all I care. I just want to mess up Chris' plans, and the best way to do that is to make sure no one dies at his hands.'
I was taken aback by his nastiness, but not for long. His eyes lacked the menace that I'd seen in them last night when he'd confronted me so aggressively. He was just putting on a show to save his pride. Whilst I'd been momentarily foolish to assume that Shane might have purely good intentions in trying to protect us, I didn't believe that Shane was quite as heartless as he claimed. Saving Alan and me was a very roundabout way to annoy someone who was already dead. Deep down, Shane couldn't stand back and watch while a murder was committed.
'Sure, whatever you say, Shane,' I replied sarcastically, 'but you can't protect Alan forever. How are we going to stop Chris for good?'
Shane shushed me again. 'We don't have time to talk about this. We have to get you out of here!' He grabbed my bruised arm, causing me to wince, and shoved me towards the internal door. Unfortunately, it was at that moment that the door slammed shut.
Click.
I gasped. Shane swore. We were locked inside, again.
Suddenly, Shane pitched forward. He was still holding onto my arm, so I was propelled onto the ground with him. The shimmering form of Chris had materialised behind Shane and shoved him in the back.
'You coward!' Shane yelled. He launched himself towards Chris. It looked like Shane was going to throttle him, but in a flash, Chris had disappeared and reappeared behind Shane.
'Look out!' I yelled, but it was too late. Chris sent Shane sprawling again.
Shane hit the floor with a painful thud. Chris disappeared again, and this time materialised in his familiar, lazy sprawl on the bonnet of the car. All this flashing around was making my eyes sore. He was showing off.
'Well, well, well, I should have known that where there are pretty young girls, I'd find you, Shane Harris,' he said.
Shane glared angrily back at Chris. His teeth were clenched and his hands squeezed into tight fists. He looked like he wanted to smash Chris to oblivion. He'd obviously worked out the hard way that there was no point in fist-fighting with a ghost.
Chris continued with a sneer. 'You had me fooled for a while. I never suspected that a moron like you would actually have any special abilities. Not to mention a brilliant acting performance—pretending to look through me all the time, as if you had no idea I was following you.'
Shane snickered. 'So I guess you must have really enjoyed my steamy car session with Carly,' he taunted. 'I normally wouldn't go near her with a barge pole, but when I saw the rage on your face, I just couldn't resist. I realised I was barking up the wrong tree with your stepmum. Then I figured, why not cover all my bases and have them both?'
In a flash of blind rage, Chris was on top of Shane, punching him in the stomach. Without the advantage of surprise, though, Chris was no match for Shane. Shane shoved Chris off him.
'I hate you!' screamed Chris in fury. He scrambled over t
o Shane again and tried to kick him, but Shane caught Chris' leg and pulled it out from under him. Chris was obviously in such a rage that he didn't have the focus to perform his clever disappearing act again, and was resorting to schoolyard wrestling.
Shane, with the natural ease of a bully, continued his verbal attack.
'I have to say, knowing you were watching my escapades really inspired me to give it my best. Carly and Sharelle have a lot to thank you for.'
So that's what Shane had wanted with Carly. As I'd suspected, he wasn't using her for money and gifts like he was the mothers' club. He was using her to irritate Chris.
Chris climbed slowly to his feet, glaring at Shane the whole time. He stood above Shane and cracked his knuckles menacingly. Shane snickered and raised his eyebrows at the threat. He was doing a good job of pretending to be unconcerned, but judging by the panic that Shane had been in before Chris had arrived, I figured he was probably peeing his pants with fear.
'You jerk,' Chris hissed. 'You think you can take everything! It wasn't enough what you did to my mum, but then you humiliate me by sleeping with my stepmum. And if that isn't bad enough, then you take away Carly, the one person that I ever truly loved.'
Shane interrupted Chris as his hissing rant built momentum.
'Hey, buddy, don't forget that I'm better at rugby than you. I beat you at school, and I've made a conscious effort to steal every girlfriend you've ever had,' he taunted. 'But don't give me so much credit. I didn't do anything to your mum.'
I looked at Shane. He was serious. I was really confused. Why had he done all those horrible things to Chris? Who was the bad guy here?
'Don't pretend to be so innocent!' Chris yelled, momentarily losing his cool before resuming his menacing hiss. 'I haven't forgotten your other crimes either. I won't forget for all of eternity the things you've done, and I'll make sure that neither will you. You're going to pay for this.' Chris turned to face me. A chill rippled through my body as his icy glare settled on me. 'And so are you.'
'Hey, don't take it out on Fiona—' Shane began.
'Shut up!' Chris yelled. Wow, he was really getting into the whole super-villain thing. 'Obviously my plan of framing you and Skankelle for Alan's murder isn't going to work since Miss Moron here,' he gestured towards me, 'was incapable of following the obvious clues I spoon-fed her.'
I gasped.
Chris turned to me. 'Yes, thanks for noticing,' he sneered. 'Those were Shane's ankle tablets and Skankelle's sleeping tablets that I was using to drug Alan. Had you not been the most painfully slow investigator in the history of the world, they would both be in jail by now.'
'Or maybe if your plan hadn't been so stupid—' Shane drawled. Despite the fact that I was in mortal danger, I snickered.
'Shut up!' Chris shouted, delivering a quick kick to Shane's family jewels, which Shane managed to block just in time. 'There's a new plan in play now, and it involves you dying a slow and painful death. No need for subtlety anymore. You're all going to die. I'm going to burn this house down.'
With that, Chris disappeared.
The Ghostly Grammar Boy Page 25
