The Haunted Serpent

by Dora M. Mitchell

  “Well, if you’d watch where you’re going, I wouldn’t have had to do that!”

  She gestured to a harmless-looking sunken spot in the ground a few feet away. “That,” she said, “is an ant trap.”

  Spaulding stared at the small, dark hole at the center of the sunken area. “You mean—if I’d stepped onto the edge . . .”

  She scooted a half-step closer and peered down. “There’s no way to tell how deep it is for sure, but the map shows a two-hundred-foot air shaft near here.”

  Spaulding swallowed, staring at the pit. “Oh. Well. I guess saving my life makes up for, you know, the other thing.”

  Marietta scowled at the ant trap as if it had personally offended her. She muttered something that Spaulding couldn’t quite catch, but it sounded like “No, it doesn’t.”

  The moment was just starting to feel extremely awkward when Kenny interrupted. Unfortunately, he interrupted with a string of loud kissy noises, making it several hundred million times more awkward.

  Luckily, Lucy interrupted him before Marietta could locate a murder weapon. “Have you guys noticed where we are?” she asked.

  For the first time, Spaulding took a real look around. They were back in the woods. Just ahead, a weedy bank sloped down to a familiar dark shape—Blackhope Pond.

  At that moment, an engine roared to life somewhere very close by. A pair of blinding lights stabbed through the trees, and branches snapped and splintered as Von Slecht’s truck plunged straight toward them.

  Spaulding’s heart jumped into his throat.

  “He was waiting for us!” Marietta gasped. “He must have known the mine tunnel ended up here.”

  “We’re going to have to make our stand now,” Spaulding said. He hoped he sounded calm and determined instead of pants-wettingly terrified. “Mr. Radzinsky, can you tell David to hold Griselda and look like he’ll eat her if we give the word?”

  “Of course,” Mr. Radzinsky said. He knelt in front of the snake, who reared up his head to gaze into the ghost’s eyes.

  Spaulding left them to their silent communication and turned to the others. “You guys make a circle around Griselda and block Von Slecht if he tries to get to her.”

  On the far side of the pond, the truck jerked to a stop. Von Slecht cut the engine. The only sound was the ticking of cooling metal.

  Spaulding wiped his hands on his pajama bottoms.

  At last, the driver’s side door opened, and Von Slecht stepped out. He gave them all a long, unblinking stare.

  “Release my wife and hand over the book immediately,” he said, his voice soft, “and I won’t kill you.”

  Spaulding squared his shoulders. “Only after you let my aunt and Mr. Bellwood go. Otherwise . . .” He stepped aside, revealing David Boa wrapped around Griselda’s body. The snake obligingly opened his jaws wide behind her head and hissed. “. . . I’m afraid she’s dinner.”

  “You think you can intimidate me?” Von Slecht snorted. “With a dumb animal that I happen to know has never eaten a human being in his life? Pathetic.” He snapped his fingers. “Griselda, come here.”

  Griselda attempted to stand up, struggling against the boa constrictor’s weight.

  “I can’t believe I ever looked up to you,” Marietta snapped at Von Slecht. She put a hand on Griselda’s shoulder and pushed her back down. “I mean, you’re married to a corpse! What is wrong with you?”

  “Quite a lovely corpse, though,” Mr. Radzinsky murmured to no one in particular.

  A red flush crept up Von Slecht’s face. “You could never understand how deeply I love her. Even death couldn’t change that.”

  Spaulding had a flash of understanding. “Griselda was the first,” he said suddenly.

  Von Slecht paused, one hand stretched toward his wife.

  “All the workers,” Spaulding continued, “the free labor with no vacation days and no rights—that idea came later. You learned to raise the dead just to bring her back, didn’t you?”

  Von Slecht laughed uneasily, his eyes darting. “Is this the part where I explain my evil plot? No, thanks.”

  Spaulding shrugged. “It doesn’t matter—I already get it. Your whole business is making red mercury just to keep some dead lady preserved. It’s pointless.”

  “You know about the red mercury?” Von Slecht demanded. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed at a bead of sweat on his brow. “Well, well. Darke said I underestimated you. And yet, clever as you may be, you still don’t understand the greatness of what I’ve done.” He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a hoarse whisper. “Yes, I sank my fortune into bringing my wife back—and I achieved it. Do you understand? I have undone death.”

  Marietta scrunched up her nose. “Yeah. Great work. Is that how you put your family’s factory out of business?”

  Von Slecht sputtered, balling his handkerchief in his fist. “What—it—it’s not out of business! My plan is simply more long-term than you can wrap your mind around. You’re as short-sighted as my mother.”

  “What, the tunnels?” Spaulding asked. He rolled his eyes. “Sure, I’ll bet there’s tons of money to make in the big-holes-in-the-ground industry.”

  “It’s not about money, you fool!” Von Slecht’s voice shot up an octave. “It’s about power. Why would I stick to simply running a factory when I have an unlimited workforce at my disposal? And a system of mines already in existence, just waiting to be expanded? Have you any idea how far those tunnels go?”

  “No,” Spaulding said.

  “No.” A smile crept over Von Slecht’s face, revealing the grayish teeth in his wide jaw. “You don’t. And neither does the government, or the army, or the National Guard. With my tunnels, I can move my army of deathless soldiers into position to overthrow the government before they even know what’s happening. I’ll be unstoppable, and together Griselda and I will rule forever!”

  “He’s raising an army?” Marietta gave Spaulding a kick to the sneaker. “I told you we should have gone to the police!”

  Spaulding’s hands were shaking. She was right. Of course she was right. This was completely out of control. He’d made a huge mistake by not going straight to the police. But maybe there was still a way around that error.

  “I know you did, Marietta.” He folded his arms and attempted to give Von Slecht a tough-guy stare. “And guess what? I took your advice. I went to the cops, and I told them everything.”

  Von Slecht burst out laughing. Not quite the reaction Spaulding had been hoping for.

  “The police?” Von Slecht giggled. “Oh good heavens, not the police! Whatever shall I do now?” He laughed harder and harder.

  Spaulding stood up as straight as he could. “If we go missing after what I told them, you’re going to be their number one suspect.”

  Von Slecht uncrumpled his handkerchief and dabbed at his eyes, still chuckling. “Oh, dear. Perhaps you aren’t so smart after all. Surely you can’t have believed you were the only ones in the whole town aware of all this? You never once thought it a little odd that you’d ferreted all this out, but the police had no idea?”

  “The newspaper said the police didn’t know what was going on with the grave robberies,” Spaulding protested.

  “Ah—that little article. I’m afraid that was the work of a certain newly hired editor who didn’t have all the facts. She also didn’t realize that investigative journalism isn’t really welcome here in Thedgeroot. Of course, she moved on to a new career shortly after that.” Von Slecht folded his handkerchief back into a tight square and tucked it into his pocket once more. “It turns out she’s much better suited to factory work.”

  Spaulding’s stomach gave a sickening flip. Mr. Radzinsky, this newspaper editor . . . how many times had Von Slecht gotten away with murder? And if he’d done it before, there was nothing to stop him from killing them, too. The only possible hold they had over him sat a few feet behind Spaulding, wrapped in boa constrictor.

  “You might not be worried about
the police,” Spaulding said, “but if you don’t let our families go, we won’t give you back your wife.”

  The businessman sighed. “This grows tiresome. I don’t need you to give me my wife.” He took a step forward.

  “Squeeze, David Boa,” Spaulding ordered.

  “Don’t you dare,” Von Slecht growled. He surged toward the snake.

  Instantly, Kenny lunged forward too and grabbed Von Slecht from behind. But the businessman broke free easily. Without even looking, he slammed Kenny aside with a backhanded blow.

  Kenny landed heavily on his side a few feet away, groaning. “Oof,” he wheezed, clutching his stomach. “He’s really strong, guys. I think he’s using magic or something.”

  Von Slecht snorted. “Of course I’m using magic! You little fools have no idea what I’m capable of.” Before anyone could react, he shoved Marietta and Spaulding aside and reached for Griselda. “Come, my darling.”

  He pulled her to her feet, grabbed David around the neck, and flung him away—or rather, he tried to fling him away. But the snake was too fast. In a blur, David whipped his tail up and wrapped it around Von Slecht’s arm. Von Slecht lost his hold on Griselda, who stumbled a few steps.

  David Boa lashed himself around Von Slecht’s torso, pinning his left arm against his side. But Von Slecht’s right arm was free. He seized the boa in an iron grip, his hand squeezing just behind David’s jaws.

  “What can we do?” Marietta demanded.

  “I don’t know!” Spaulding looked around helplessly—there was nothing to hit Von Slecht with, and no way to do it without hitting David too.

  Spaulding’s eyes fell on Griselda. She’d managed to stay on her feet and keep walking. She seemed unaware of the fight—unaware of everything, really. The moon had just cleared the treetops, and she was staring up into its cold light. Spaulding wondered afterward if she was staggering toward that. Maybe she was moving mindlessly. Or maybe some remaining shred of her mind knew this was her chance to escape.

  Whatever the reason, she was headed straight toward the ant trap.

  “Watch out!” he cried as she took the final step that put her weight on the loose earth.

  With a soft shushhh, the slope of loose earth shifted and Griselda’s feet slid out from under her. She landed on her back, her falling weight speeding the landslide.

  Spaulding took a step toward her, but Marietta caught his wrist. “You’d just fall too,” she said quietly.

  Von Slecht turned his head in time to see Griselda vanish into the hole. He gave a strangled, wordless cry. Before anyone else could move, he threw himself into the pit after her.

  He screamed as he fell. It went on and on, until finally it cut off abruptly. A thick, awful silence fell. Von Slecht was gone at last.

  But so was David Boa.

  The woods and the pond were quiet. The only sound came from the edge of the pit where Mr. Radzinsky crouched, quietly sobbing as he stared down into the darkness.

  Spaulding and Marietta looked at each other. She gave her chin a little jerk away from the ghost. Spaulding nodded, and the four walked out of his earshot.

  “So that’s it, then,” Kenny said quietly. “It’s over. Von Slecht couldn’t have survived a fall like that. That scream.” He shivered.

  “All we have to do now is find Dad and your aunt,” Lucy said.

  Marietta sighed. “Yeah, but what about him?” She nodded toward Mr. Radzinsky. “He’s not going to want to leave yet, and he can’t stay here alone.”

  “I’ll keep an eye on him,” Spaulding said. “I’m his friend. You guys can find Aunt Gwen and your dad without me. I’m sure they’re at the factory. Mr. R. already looked in most of the rooms at the manor.”

  “I’ll stay with you, Spaulding,” Lucy offered. “You shouldn’t be alone either.”

  He smiled. “Thanks, Lucy.”

  Spaulding showed Marietta the drain tunnel that led to the factory and loaned her his flashlight, and she and Kenny set off. Spaulding and Lucy went to sit beside Mr. Radzinsky.

  The ghost didn’t look up, but he heaved a deep sigh as they approached. “I know I have to go down there and look, but I can’t seem to make myself do it just yet,” he said.

  Lucy gasped. “Oh, no, don’t do that!”

  Spaulding nodded. “She’s right, Mr. R. You shouldn’t do that to yourself. It’ll only make you feel worse.”

  “But he’s alone down there,” the ghost said, his voice cracking on the word alone.

  “Don’t think of it like that,” Lucy said, sniffling. “He’s not really down there. He’s gone. Or if he’s not gone—if he’s like you—then he isn’t stuck down there.”

  Spaulding cleared his aching throat. “He was a great snake, Mr. Radzinsky.”

  Mr. Radzinsky smiled weakly.

  “Yeah,” Lucy agreed. “If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have won.”

  “Now, on that point,” said a voice close behind them, “I am forced to correct you.”

  Slowly, with a feeling like ice trickling down his neck, Spaulding turned. Standing not ten feet away, immaculate as ever in a shiny black suit, was Dr. Darke.

  She strolled toward them, perfectly steady on the uneven ground despite her very pointy heels. Behind her, at least a hundred revenants appeared from the woods, moving with unusual speed and coordination.

  “You see,” she said, “you haven’t won at all.”

  “I would have come sooner,” the doctor continued, “but I didn’t think poor, stupid Werner would need my help to deal with a bunch of children. It seems I overestimated him once again.”

  Spaulding jumped to his feet and backed away, pulling Lucy along with him. Mr. Radzinsky positioned himself in front of them, but Spaulding could see he was still shaken and weak. The glow he cast wavered fitfully, like a candle about to go out.

  Lucy’s fingers dug painfully into Spaulding’s arm. “But Von Slecht is gone! The undead were his magic, they should be gone, too.”

  Dr. Darke gave a sharp laugh. “It surprises me you thought I’d let him have any real power. I gave him a little spell to work here and there so he’d feel important, but I’m the true necromancer. All he was good for was providing money.”

  Her voice deepened and echoed oddly. For a moment, Spaulding thought he saw a yellow light glint at the back of her eyes. He had a peculiar sense of something larger in her body with her.

  Mr. Radzinsky drew himself up tall. “Stop right where you are,” he snapped. “These children are under my protection.”

  Dr. Darke’s eyes widened. For an instant, Spaulding thought she was afraid. Then she laughed.

  “How quaint,” she said, and waved a hand.

  Mr. Radzinsky blew apart, scattered like dandelion seeds. “Drat,” Spaulding heard him mutter faintly as the cloud of glowing green specks dispersed.

  Spaulding looked around wildly. There had to be something—a weapon, a way to signal Kenny and Marietta to come back . . .

  The doctor smiled. “No one will hear you screaming for help—not that I’ll give you a chance to.” The revenants streamed past her in a gibbering horde. “I’m not soft-hearted about children like poor old Werner was.”

  “This isn’t fair!” Lucy stomped her foot. “We had a plan, and it worked. We won!”

  “Would you just run?” Spaulding hauled her to her feet and took off toward Von Slecht’s truck, the howling mob of undead just behind them. He yanked open the rear door and vaulted inside, climbing into the front seat to give Lucy room to get in.

  But Daphne was slowing Lucy down. She was still several steps behind. As she reached for the back seat to haul herself up, one of the faster corpses leaped forward. Its bony fingers snagged the euphonium’s valves. Lucy stumbled, and the revenant pounced.

  “Help!” Lucy screamed just outside Spaulding’s door.

  The revenant bent over her, its rotten mouth open wide.

  Spaulding peered down from his window. The truck was so tall . . . and Lucy was flat on
the ground . . . it might work. It was the only idea he had, anyway.

  “Keep your head down, Lucy,” he muttered. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and wrenched his door open as hard as he could.

  There was a sound like an egg cracking. The undead thing staggered backward with a squeal, clutching its head. Spaulding leaned out and grabbed Lucy’s hand. She scrambled up into the truck, and he slammed the door and punched the lock button. They were safe for the moment—though it didn’t look like that moment would last long.

  The revenants swarmed the truck. Fingernails screeched on the doors and windows. The truck began to sway as some of the smarter creatures began trying to overturn it.

  Dr. Darke stood a few yards away, laughing her head off, as if she were watching the best show she’d ever seen.

  Mr. Radzinsky materialized in the passenger seat. “Well, I tried,” he said, slumping down listlessly. “But I couldn’t save you any more than I could save my poor David Boa. Look on the bright side, though—in a few minutes, when you’re dead, I’ll be right here to guide you.”

  Spaulding sighed. “I know you’re upset, Mr. R, but maybe just keep your thoughts to yourself for a while, okay?” He felt the ignition switch, then pawed through the glove box and under the seat. Nothing.

  “The keys aren’t here,” he said.

  “They’re with Von Slecht at the bottom of the mine.” Lucy hugged Daphne tight, sniffling. At that moment, a white light exploded around them. Lucy screamed. Spaulding grabbed the dashboard. For an instant, the truck seemed to have been engulfed in fire. It rocked onto the passenger-side wheels and then fell back down with a crash.

  “What was that?” Lucy panted.

  “I think she’s tired of waiting.” Spaulding peered out at the doctor.

  She stabbed a finger at the truck, shouting words he couldn’t make out. Another ball of white light began to form around her hands.

  “Brace yourself,” Mr. Radzinsky said.

  Dr. Darke snapped her wrists toward the truck. A crackling, bluish-white bolt of energy rushed toward them. Spaulding and Lucy hunched their shoulders and plugged their ears. But when the bolt hit the truck, it simply disappeared. The vehicle didn’t even bounce.