by R. L. Stine
“Guess you’re right,” Alex replied. He shrugged. Then all at once Corky saw a smile cross his face. Alex’s blue eyes lit up for the first time since they’d arrived.
He’s finally cheering up! Corky told herself.
But then she realized that Alex wasn’t smiling at her. His eyes were focused over her shoulder.
She turned—and immediately saw two girls she knew from Shadyside High in the next booth. Jade Smith and Deena Martinson. Deena was tossing back her blond hair and flashing Alex a smile.
“What’s going on here?” Corky blurted out angrily, turning back to Alex.
His smile quickly faded. “Huh? What do you mean?” Bright red circles formed on his cheeks. “Oh. I was just saying hi to those girls. You know. Deena and Jade.”
Corky eyed him suspiciously. Alex laughed. “What’s your problem, Corky?”
She continued to glare at him and didn’t reply.
“Let’s talk about the game,” Jay broke in, trying to cut the tension. “Didn’t I look awesome tonight? Did you see me jump three feet for that slam dunk?”
“Too bad you didn’t have the ball!” Alex replied, grinning.
“Too bad you hit your head on the backboard!” Corky added.
She joined in the laughter. But didn’t feel like laughing. Alex had stopped smiling at Deena, but now he avoided Corky too.
Is something going on between them? Corky wondered.
Why do I suddenly have such a bad feeling about Alex?
About the tournament?
About everything?
♦ ♦ ♦
She tried to call Kimmy on Sunday afternoon. She had to talk to someone about Alex. They had made plans to go to the movies on Saturday. But Alex called at the last minute with a lame excuse about how he had to stay home and watch his little sister.
His voice sounded so strange, Corky thought. Alex is such a bad liar. She pictured him hanging up the phone and running out to meet Deena. Feeling miserable, she spent Saturday night playing with her brother, Sean. He forced her to play game after game of Mortal Kombat. He beat her every game.
The phone rang three times at Kimmy’s house. “Come on, Kimmy—be home!” Corky urged out loud. I haven’t even had a chance to tell her about what I saw at the river, Corky thought, pressing the receiver to her ear. About the hole in the ice and the weird vapor rising out of it.
After the fifth ring, Mrs. Bass answered breathlessly. She told Corky that Kimmy had gone over to Debra’s house.
Corky borrowed her mother’s car and drove to Debra’s house on Canyon Road. The heavy gray clouds had finally drifted away, revealing a shimmering blue sky. Bright sunlight made the snowy lawns sparkle like silver.
The light glared off Gorky’s windshield. But the sun brought no warmth. The temperature stayed at twenty. The streets remained icy and slick.
She recognized the car parked at the curb in front of Debra’s house—the blue Corolla Kimmy must have borrowed from her father. Kimmy’s car was still in the garage having its front end repaired and the shattered windshield replaced.
Corky pulled her car up Debra’s driveway and peered out at the sprawling white-shingled house. The walk and front stoop had been shoveled, but drifts of snow rose up to the front windows. The windows were all frosted over.
Her Doc Martens sliding on the slick walk, Corky made her way to the front door and rang the bell. Kimmy and Debra are probably doing homework together, she realized. I should have brought my backpack.
No reply. She tried the bell again, but she couldn’t hear it ring inside the house. It was probably broken.
So she knocked. “Hey, Debra—it’s me!” she called. “Open up!”
Still no reply.
They must be in the back, she decided. She tried the door—and it opened.
“Where are you?” Corky called, stepping into the front hallway. “Hey—Debra? Kimmy? It’s me!”
The entire house appeared dark.
And silent.
Corky peeked into the living room. “Hey—guys?” she called meekly.
The drapes were drawn over the windows, shutting out all sunlight. No lamps were lit. Corky stared into the darkness. “Debra?”
A flicker of pale light caught her eye across the large living room. It’s in the den, Corky realized. She took a few hesitant steps toward the dim light.
Candlelight?
“Hey—Debra? Are you in there?”
No reply.
The flickering circle of light grew brighter as Corky approached the den. She stopped in the open doorway—and gasped.
“What’s going on?” Corky cried in a shocked whisper.
Chapter 6
“COME FORWARD, SPIRIT”
Corky watched the light flicker across her friends’ faces from the candles. Their eyes were staring unblinking into the flames. The room was dark, the drapes drawn.
Debra and Kimmy knelt on the den floor, candles arranged in a circle between them.
Debra held a long red candle in one hand and was slowly passing it over the circle of candles. A large book lay open on the floor in front of her.
Both girls’ lips moved silently. As Corky cried out, they continued to stare into the flames, concentrating so hard, they didn’t hear her.
Corky remained in the doorway, unwilling to step into the room. She didn’t like Debra’s strange chants.
Finally Kimmy raised her eyes. Her expression changed to surprise. “Corky—what are you doing here? How did you get in?”
Debra groaned and straightened up, raising her candle from the others. “You ruined it,” she complained.
“What on earth are you doing?” Corky asked, taking a reluctant step closer.
Debra climbed to her feet. She stretched her arms above her head. “Did you ring? The doorbell is broken. It froze, I think.”
“The door was open,” Corky explained, staring down into the candlelight. “Kimmy’s mom said she was here, so—”
Debra pushed past Corky. “Oh. There’s the phone. Be right back. Then you can help us.” She hurried out of the room.
“Help you do what?” Corky asked Kimmy.
Kimmy lowered herself to a sitting position. She wore an oversize wool sweater and black leggings. “Debra found an old chant we’re trying,” she explained casually.
She leaned back on her hands. The orange light danced over her face and black hair. Her eyes glowed as they studied Corky. “Did you go out with Alex last night?”
Corky lowered herself to her knees beside Kimmy. “No. He called and said he couldn’t make it.” She sighed. “He gave a really lame-o excuse.”
Kimmy tsk-tsked.
“Wish I didn’t like him so much,” Corky confessed. She bent to pull off her shoes. They were still cold from being outside.
“Okay. Let’s try again,” Debra said, returning to the den. “This is great. With three of us chanting, the power will be much stronger.”
Corky reluctantly got down on the floor beside Kimmy. “But what are you chanting about?” she demanded. “What are you trying to do?”
“We’re trying to make Alex appear in the den!” Kimmy joked. “With no clothes on.”
Debra’s cold blue eyes narrowed at Kimmy. “Come on. No jokes. The spirits won’t take us seriously.”
Debra lowered herself to her knees on the other side of the ring of candles. Then she leaned over the big book on the floor and studied it.
“It’s a chant to summon a spirit,” Kimmy explained, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Debra found it in a book we bought in a used-book shop.”
Debra continued to study the old book.
“What spirit?” Corky asked, whispering. “The evil spirit?”
“No—of course not!” Kimmy replied, her eyes on Debra. “We want to call up a different spirit—a spirit to protect us.”
“You mean—” Corky started.
Debra raised a hand to silence them. Her eyes caught the firelight as she gazed at Corky. “W
e’re going to call up a spirit to protect us from the evil. In case the evil really has returned. We—”
“That’s what I wanted to tell you,” Corky interrupted. “I went to the river, where I drowned the evil. The river is frozen over.”
“I know that,” Debra replied sharply. “I’ve gone skating on it. Lots of kids have been skating there. It’s been frozen for a few weeks.”
“Well, I saw a hole in the ice,” Corky reported breathlessly.
“Huh?” Kimmy cried out in surprise.
“A pretty big hole, perfectly round,” Corky reported. “And there was smoke pouring up from it. Like thick, evil fog. Pouring up from under the ice.”
“Probably just steam,” Debra murmured thoughtfully.
“You really think the evil has escaped?” Kimmy asked. “Do you think Hannah’s accident . . .” Her voice trailed off as her eyes grew wide with fear.
“You put the idea in my head,” Corky told Kimmy. “When your brakes gave out and we crashed. Was it just an accident? Or was the evil back, looking for revenge?”
Corky sighed. “I’ve been obsessing about it ever since. I even dream about it.”
“The evil can come back only if it inhabits someone living,” Debra said softly. “And there were only the three of you in the car.”
Corky shuddered. “It’s not in me,” she reported. “I—I feel pretty normal.”
“Me too,” Kimmy replied quickly.
A loud sound made all three of them jump. It took Corky a few seconds to realize it was just the crash of a metal garbage can, toppled by the wind.
“Let’s summon a spirit,” Debra urged, picking up a long red candle from beside her on the floor, holding it over a flame to light it. “If the evil is back, we will need a spirit on our side to fight it.”
“How do you know this will work?” Corky demanded.
“It’s a very old book,” Debra replied. “The store owner didn’t want to sell it to me. He said it might be dangerous.”
“Probably just trying to raise the price of the book,” Corky suggested.
“Maybe he was telling the truth,” Debra replied solemnly. She motioned impatiently to Corky to move closer to the candles.
I really hate this, Corky thought. It frightens me too much.
But, following Kimmy’s lead, she knelt and leaned over the ring of candles, so close she could feel the warmth. She listened to Debra’s soft chant.
“Come forward, spirit,” Debra murmured, moving her candle in a slow, steady circle. “Come forward, spirit, to do our bidding.”
Corky leaned closer. The candlelight danced as Debra began to chant, in a low singsong, strange words in a language Corky had never heard. Reading from the book, Debra chanted the words over and over.
As she chanted, Debra raised her eyes to Corky and Kimmy. “Join in,” she instructed.
Leaning over the candle flames, the three girls chanted in unison.
Corky stopped chanting when she heard the creaking footsteps. Soft but steady from the living room. She and Kimmy exchanged glances.
Debra motioned impatiently for them to keep chanting.
Their voices grew softer as the creaking footsteps approached.
Glancing up, Corky saw the pictures on the den wall begin to shake. A low rumble competed with the creaking footsteps. The walls appeared to tremble. China figures on a shelf shook and nearly toppled to the floor.
“It’s working!” Debra whispered excitedly, her eyes flashing in the dancing firelight.
Corky felt her throat tighten, but pushed herself to keep chanting. Their voices suddenly sounded tiny over the roaring sound that swirled around them.
The walls shook. The floor began to vibrate.
The whole room is shaking! Corky realized, forcing herself to repeat the strange words.
The footsteps drew closer.
Corky raised her eyes to the doorway. She could hear someone approaching.
But there was no one there.
No one.
The walls trembled. The floor shook. A picture dropped off the wall and fell with a clatter.
“Who—who’s there?” Corky cried out.
She felt a rush of cold air. A musty odor swept through the room.
And all the candles went out at once.
Chapter 7
ACCIDENT IN THE GYM
Corky struggled to breathe, the musty odor choking her. A heavy chill settled over the darkness.
Kimmy let out a gasp.
Corky blinked as a light flashed on. Debra had climbed to her feet and clicked on a table lamp. “Spirit—come forward!” Debra cried, her eyes searching the room.
Corky turned toward the doorway. No one there.
“Stop! Stop it!” Kimmy screamed, jumping to her feet. Her face was bright red. Her hair wild about her head. “Please stop it, Debra! I’m too scared!”
“The spirit has left,” Debra replied calmly. “I could feel its presence. It was here in this room. But now it has gone.”
“I don’t believe this!” Corky cried, standing up. Her legs weak and rubbery. “We really called up a spirit!”
The room had stopped shaking. Only the damp chill remained.
Kimmy let out a sigh. “Sorry I screamed like that,” she said, smoothing her hair down with both hands. “I—I just got so scared!”
“Me too,” Corky confessed. She stared down at the ring of still-smoking candles. “I was terrified.”
“Something was here in this room,” Debra said with surprising calmness. “If we hadn’t panicked, it would have stayed. It wouldn’t have vanished. Gone back to wherever it lives.”
“Put the book away!” Kimmy insisted. She picked up the big book, slammed it shut, and thrust it at Debra. “Hide it. The man in the bookstore was right. It’s too dangerous.”
“We have to try to forget about chanting and magic spells,” Corky urged, starting to breathe normally again. “We have to try to put it all in the past. It’s just too frightening. We have to try to lead normal lives.”
A bitter laugh escaped Debra’s throat. Her cold eyes locked on Gorky’s. “Normal? After all that’s happened here?”
“Corky is right,” Kimmy insisted heatedly. “Hide the book, Debra. We were only looking for trouble.”
“Okay, okay.” Debra rolled her eyes. “I’m outvoted. I’ll put it up in my room. I’ll save it for a rainy day.”
Corky and Kimmy let out relieved sighs.
They had no way of knowing that the rainy day would come so soon.
Tigers claw!
Tigers ROAR!
Send the ball down the floor—
Two points MORE!
Ivy Blake finished her cheer with a forward flip, landing on her feet. Then she ran off the floor clapping loudly, her long, streaked hair streaming behind her.
Corky and Kimmy watched from the bottom row of the bleachers, making notes on their clipboards. “She’s good,” Corky said, watching Ivy trot over to the other cheerleading candidates.
“I like her,” Kimmy agreed. “She’s very strong. Very physical.”
Ivy was a big girl, Corky observed. Tall and athletic looking. She had a dramatic face, framed by long wavy hair, brown with blond streaks through it. She wore bright pink lipstick.
“So we’ve narrowed it down to three girls,” Kimmy said, studying her clipboard. Ms. Closter had been called to a teachers’ meeting on the third floor. As co-captains, the choice of Hannah’s replacement was up to Corky and Kimmy.
Corky nodded. She started to say something else about Ivy. But a man interrupted.
“Hey, girls—get away from the bleachers! Can’t you see we’re working up here?”
Corky turned and saw two men in blue coveralls at the top of the bleachers, working on the metal frame that supported the wooden benches.
“Sorry!” Corky called up to them. She and Kimmy whispered about the candidates as they stepped away from the bleachers and made their way across the gym floor to the group
of girls.
“You were all great!” Corky told them. She could see the tension on their faces. Ivy seemed to be the only one who remained calm. She applied a fresh coat of pink lipstick to her lips as Corky talked.
“We’ve narrowed it down to three,” Corky told them. She glanced down at her clipboard. “Ivy Blake, Lauren Wilson, and Rochelle Drexler.”
“We want to thank you all for trying out,” Kimmy told them. “You were all terrific. It was a tough choice.”
She turned to Ivy, Lauren, and Rochelle. “If you three will stay,” Kimmy said. “The rest of you can pick up your stuff and leave. Thanks again for trying out.”
A few girls grumbled, disappointed. A couple lingered to congratulate the three finalists. The others hurried over to the far wall to pick up their coats and backpacks.
Corky watched them make their way out of the gym, then turned back to Ivy, Lauren, and Rochelle. “I wish we could take all three of you,” she told them. “But we need only one replacement.”
“Could you wait over there?” Kimmy asked them, pointing to the bleachers. “Give Corky and me a couple more minutes. I think we’re pretty close to a decision. But we may need you to do another cheer or something if there’s a tie.”
“Don’t stand too near the bleachers,” Corky warned. “Those men are working up at the top.”
Lauren and Rochelle walked across the floor, talking excitedly. Ivy followed behind them, tugging back her long, streaked hair.
Corky and Kimmy made their way into Ms. Closter’s small office in the corner of the gym. Kimmy clicked on the light. Corky sat down on the edge of Ms. Closter’s cluttered desk. Kimmy leaned against the doorframe.
Through the large window, Corky gazed out at the three girls waiting awkwardly near the bleachers for a decision.
“They all have strengths and weaknesses,” Kimmy said. “All three have tried out before and almost made the squad. Lauren used to live next door to me until her family moved to North Hills. Now she and Ivy are best friends.”
Corky stared out at Lauren Wilson. She was tall and graceful, with creamy, pale white skin. Her straight auburn hair was pulled back into a short ponytail. She wore a long gray sweatshirt over bright blue leggings.
