The House Next Door

by Joel A. Sutherland

  “It’s worth a shot,” Sophie said. “We still have nothing to lose.”

  “Chris!” Nick suddenly shouted. “We’ve lost too much time. There’s no way we can beat Hazel to the stable and surprise her now.”

  “You’re right. We can’t beat her there.” I held my horseshoe up for a moment and then tucked it into the front of my pants, pulling my jacket down to conceal it from view. “But we can still surprise her.”

  Nick and Sophie followed my lead and hid their horseshoes. I picked up the horseshoe Sophie had thrown at Ernest and hung it over his cross.

  “Hopefully that will keep him buried in his grave,” I said.

  Nick picked up the creepy Santa statue and placed it under the open window. I climbed on the statue’s head and pulled myself through the opening, then turned back and pulled Sophie up. Nick came next. I grabbed his hand and helped him as he climbed up the wall. Something caught my eye as I pulled him outside … but I shook it off.

  “What?” he asked as we both got to our feet beside Sophie.

  “Nothing,” I said. “C’mon.”

  But it hadn’t been nothing.

  Over Nick’s shoulder, as I’d pulled him out, I’d caught a flicker of movement down in the basement.

  Ernest’s cross had trembled, and the horseshoe I’d placed there had nearly slipped off.

  I cast one last wary look through the basement window and followed Nick and Sophie toward the stable.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  “I feel like I’m going to be sick to my stomach,” Nick said as we crept across the field. He slipped on a patch of ice and fell to his knee. His horseshoe fell beside him.

  I grabbed him under one arm and helped him up, feeling sorry for him as I did. He’d already lost one younger sibling, and now the other was in danger.

  “Thank you,” Nick said as he rose to his feet.

  “What are friends for?”

  Sophie dug his horseshoe out of the snow and wiped it off, then handed it back to him.

  “Yeah,” Nick said as we reached the stable. “It’s good to have friends.”

  Hopefully we weren’t too late.

  From within the stable, Shade’s snort cut through the night.

  ***

  Nick ran into the stable first, with Sophie and me close behind. We kept our iron horseshoes hidden for the moment. There was no sign of Hazel or Shade.

  A bright circle of light from an overhead bulb illuminated the centre of the stable. And sitting on the ground at the edge of the circle was Chris, tied to a wooden pillar. His head perked up when we entered.

  “Nick!” he said excitedly, then he noticed my sister and me. “You came for me!”

  “Of course we came for you, bro,” Nick said.

  We ran to Chris’s side and kneeled around him. Nick began untying the rope that held Chris in place.

  “Make that quick,” Chris said. “She’ll be back any—”

  “Minute?” a female voice said. Hazel walked around a corner. She led Shade by a rope. “Or were you going to say ‘second’? That would be more accurate, because voilà! Here I am.”

  I nearly grabbed my horseshoe but had to remind myself to leave it hidden until Hazel was close enough to strike. Sophie and Nick left theirs hidden for the time being too.

  “I know you two,” Hazel said, her eyes drifting over Sophie and me. Her gaze settled on Nick. “But who are you?”

  “I’m Chris’s brother,” Nick said. “And I’m getting him out of here.”

  “No, you’re not,” Hazel said. “Hands off the rope.”

  “No.”

  “With one word from me, Shade will charge and crush the four of you before you even know what happened. Hands. Off.” Hazel made a soft clicking sound with her tongue and gently tugged on the rope, as if to make a point. Shade snorted loudly and stamped one of his front hooves on the ground. I could feel the floor shake from where I sat and had no doubt Shade could kill us in a heartbeat if Hazel commanded him.

  Nick slowly released the rope. Chris was still tied to the pillar.

  “Good boy,” Hazel said.

  “If you could kill us right now, why wait?” Sophie asked.

  “Kill four children at once?” Hazel said with mock surprise. “That seems a little dark and morbid, even by my standards. I think I’ll let one or two of you live, but I haven’t yet decided whom to spare.”

  Why would she be so quick to kill any of us? Just because Danny and Jack had killed Shade? Because Sophie had tried to feed the horse? Because Chris had snuck over here to find out what happened to Clara? Something didn’t add up. There was more to Hazel’s story; I just didn’t know what.

  She led Shade closer. His eyes glowed faintly blue.

  “Then again,” Hazel continued, “you all know too much, so the decision might be out of my hands.”

  They walked close enough to easily hit them with an accurate throw, so I yelled, “Now!” and revealed my horseshoe. Sophie and Nick did the same.

  Shade reared up on his hind legs and squealed frantically. He kicked the air with his front legs and then backed away snorting.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Hazel said, trying to calm her horse. “It’s okay, boy. I won’t let them hurt you.”

  “Oh, yeah?” Nick said, emboldened by the horse’s evident fear. “Just try to stop us.” He threw the horseshoe at Shade.

  Shade pulled free from Hazel in a blind panic, but Hazel stepped in front of her horse and caught the horseshoe.

  “What?” I said. “How did you—”

  “Catch this?” Hazel asked, looking at the horseshoe in her hand and then back at us. “Iron only works on ghosts.”

  “But you’re—”

  “Not a ghost.”

  Not a ghost. The words clanged around inside my skull, impossible to comprehend but refusing to be ignored. “That doesn’t make sense. Your husband died twenty years ago and he looked just as old then as you do now. Shouldn’t you look a whole lot …?”

  Hazel looked slightly wounded but maintained her composure. She cupped her cheek and slowly dragged her fingertips to her chin. She said nothing.

  Sophie picked up where I had left off. “Yeah, you should look much, much older. And I read a newspaper article that said you died before your husband. Was that a lie?”

  Hazel nodded and sighed. “All right, you got me. That article was correct. Hazel died twenty-three years ago.”

  “What do you mean?” Nick said. He looked as confused as I felt.

  “I am not Hazel,” she said, and it felt like the ground had been pulled out from beneath my feet. “I’m her daughter.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  “Clara,” Chris said from the floor. “You’re Clara.”

  Clara looked at Sophie and me and said, “When you showed up at my door with your cookies and assumed I was my mother, I was taken by surprise. Angry too. Do I really look that old? The years since my father’s death have simply slipped away. I rarely go out, never allow anyone in and don’t even like looking in the mirror. But I realized it wasn’t surprising you’d mistake me for my mother. I’m the same age she was when she died.”

  “Why didn’t you say anything?” I asked. “Why didn’t you correct us?”

  “What would be the point? I had no plans to see either of you ever again. Not after I killed you, that is.”

  “What?” Sophie said. She gripped her horseshoe a little tighter.

  Clara laughed once — a sharp, piercing sound that echoed off the stable’s wooden walls. “I couldn’t just let you live. You had tried to take Shade once and I knew it was only a matter of time before you tried again, just like those evil brothers did. I already lost him before and I’ll die before I lose him again.”

  “Sophie didn’t try to take your horse and we definitely don’t want anything to do with Shade now.” I spoke slowly, hoping my words would sink in. But I doubted anything I could say would get through to her at this point.

  I was right.
r />   “Drop your horseshoes,” she said.

  “We don’t want—”

  Clara cut me off. “Drop. Your. Horseshoes.”

  I nodded at Sophie. She nodded back. We dropped our horseshoes. They clanged loudly on the floor.

  “Now kick them to me.”

  We did as we were told, sliding the horseshoes with the toes of our shoes. Mine slid straight across to Clara while Sophie’s stopped a little less than halfway.

  “If none of you struggle, this will be over soon. But it won’t be painless, I’m afraid. Far from it.” She turned and faced Shade, then raised her hand in the air. She was going to signal him to run each of us down, and there’d be nothing we could do to stop him.

  “Wait!” I shouted.

  Clara looked at me. She didn’t seem overly annoyed by the interruption. If anything, she looked eager, like this was all just a game to her, a game she couldn’t lose.

  I could think of only one thing that might save us — one desperate thing.

  “Danny and Jack,” I said, “the brothers who killed Shade. It’s not fair that their souls have been able to live on after what they did, don’t you think?” I didn’t bother pausing to allow her to answer. “What if I was able to trick their ghosts into coming over here so you could be rid of them forever? Would you let me and my sister go?”

  I looked straight at Clara, avoiding eye contact with Nick and Chris. But I couldn’t avoid hearing my sister.

  “Matt! What are you doing?” Her voice was quiet, baffled and wounded.

  I didn’t acknowledge her.

  Clara stared at me skeptically, as if she was trying to get a read on me. After a tense moment, she said, “I can’t release all four of you. There has to be payback for breaking into my house and threatening Shade.”

  I closed my eyes and swallowed. “I know. Just Sophie and me.”

  Following one final pause, Clara said, “Deal. Go get Danny and Jack and bring them back here, and I’ll let you and your sister go.”

  “I can’t believe this,” Nick said, full of rage. “You’ve got to be joking.”

  Chris sounded like he was in shock. “Unreal.”

  “No way, Matt,” Sophie said. “You can’t do this. We can’t just—”

  “Yes we can,” I said, interrupting her. “C’mon, let’s go.”

  “No, no, no,” Clara said. “Not so fast. I can’t let you both leave.” She pointed at me. “You go get Danny and Jack.” Then she pointed at Sophie. “She’ll stay here with me. I’ll give you fifteen minutes. If you return with the twins, I’ll let you and your sister go. And if not — or if you tell anyone: your parents, the police — she’ll be the first to die.”

  My jaw tensed and I ground my teeth together. “Fine.” I didn’t like it, but I didn’t have a choice.

  “Tick-tock,” Clara said.

  I caught a glimpse of Sophie. She didn’t look mad or scared or even sickened. She looked disappointed. I didn’t blame her. I’d let her down, and in a big way.

  It hurt to see Sophie look at me like that.

  But it had to be done. I wasn’t going to stand by and do nothing. I wasn’t going to let anything bad happen to my sister, no matter the cost.

  I turned and ran out of the stable. I didn’t look back.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  “Danny?” I called in the darkness of my room. I stared at my closet door, closed tight. “Jack?”

  Nothing happened. The door didn’t open and neither ghost made a sound. What if they were no longer in there? What if they’d moved on or something?

  That wasn’t an option. They had to be in my closet. They had to be. And if they weren’t going to come out, I was going to go in.

  My hand shook as I reached out to turn the handle. I took a deep breath and steadied my shakes. Get a grip, I willed myself. Sophie’s life is at stake.

  Before any more doubt or fear could stop me, I threw open the door and stepped into the closet.

  Only, it wasn’t my closet.

  Somehow I’d opened the closet door in my bedroom and stepped into an entirely different closet in an entirely different room in an entirely different house. My closet was wide and shallow; this one was narrow and deep. It was filled with clothes for a boy my age — hanging on the left were sweaters and shirts and hanging on the right was a matching collection.

  Identical clothes for identical twins.

  I was in Danny and Jack’s closet. But I had no time to be scared. I’d come to collect them, after all.

  I stepped into the room — the twins’ room, not mine — and scanned my surroundings. The carpet was blood red and the walls were covered in dark brown wood panelling, which in turn was covered in old movie posters from the 1980s and 90s: The Empire Strikes Back, Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, Back to the Future, Jurassic Park. Danny and Jack had the same taste in movies as me and my dad. It didn’t make what I had to do any easier.

  “Danny? Jack?” I called again. Once more I was answered with silence.

  But the silence didn’t last.

  Clip, clop. Clip, clop. Clip, clop.

  Horse hooves. In the hallway.

  Clip, clop. Clip, clop. Clip, clop.

  Getting closer. Right outside the door.

  Clip, clop. Clip, clop. Clip, clop.

  My breath caught in my throat and I looked wildly around the room. In my panic I jumped into one of the beds and threw the covers over my head. It was probably the worst place I could have chosen to hide, but it was too late.

  The door creaked open.

  Shade snorted.

  He took his time crossing the room — Clip, clop. Clip, clop. Clip, clop — as if he was drawing the moment out and savouring the flavour of my fear.

  He’s not real, he’s not real, he’s not real, I told myself. None of this is real. It’s all in your mind, like when you saw Sophie trampled in her bed. When you look again you won’t be in Danny and Jack’s room.

  I looked again, but oh, how I was wrong.

  I was still in Danny and Jack’s room, and Shade was very much in the room with me. He towered above the bed, impossibly large and staring down on me with anger. He raised up onto his two back legs, roared, thrashed his front legs in the air two or three times, then came kicking down on top of me.

  ***

  I opened my eyes, sat bolt upright in bed and readied to scream — but stopped. I was back in my own bed, back in my own room. Scared, stressed and covered in sweat, but alive. Shade was gone. The vision of Shade was gone, I corrected myself.

  How much time had passed? Five minutes? More? Either way, I couldn’t have much time left before Clara …

  The closet door opened.

  Slowly, Danny stepped out. His body wasn’t trampled and bloodied like the first time I’d seen him exit my closet, but the sight of a ghost entering my room still sent shivers down my spine.

  “Danny,” I said. “Where’s your brother? I need to speak to you both.”

  “I told you, he’s—”

  “Easily startled,” I finished. There wasn’t time to waste. I had to cut to the chase. “Shade’s ghost wasn’t commanded by Mr. Creighton to kill you and your brother. His daughter, Clara, was responsible. She still lives on Briar Patch Farm, with the ghosts of her horse and father. They … they have my sister, and they’re going to kill her. But listen, Danny …”

  His expression had remained calm and unemotional as I spoke, and I knew I had to sell the next part if I was going to convince Danny and Jack to help me.

  “I think I know how to send Shade back to the Netherrealm and take down Clara.”

  Danny finally reacted the way I had hoped — he smiled — and I knew he’d help me.

  I told him then, as quickly as possible, what had happened and what we needed to do. I left out the part where I had sold out the Russos in order to save Sophie and, of course, that I had promised to hand Danny and Jack over to Clara in exchange for my sister. Those two details would have done nothing to help con
vince the twin ghosts to follow me to the farm.

  Luckily, it wasn’t difficult convincing Danny to follow me. He seemed ready to fly through my bedroom wall and straight outside before I told him to wait for me. He didn’t even pause to question whether or not I was telling the truth — he believed everything I told him and was eager to help.

  “I’ll do it for me,” he said, “but more for Jack.”

  “For this to work, we need him too. Can you call him out?”

  “Can we do it without him? He’s—”

  “No, Danny,” I stared hard at Danny and spoke sternly. “He needs to come.”

  Danny looked at the closet and sighed. “That’s going to be a problem.”

  Somehow I knew without him saying it: “Jack’s not here, is he?”

  Danny shook his head. “As soon as we were killed, Jack passed on. Only I remained.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  It didn’t matter. The plan would work without Jack. I’d promised Clara both brothers, but that was before I’d known Jack had already moved on.

  I had to hope.

  But try as I might to ignore the sinking feeling in my gut, it was there all the same.

  “We heard whispering,” I told Danny. “Sophie and I. We both heard you whispering to someone in my closet the first night we saw you.”

  “I … talk to Jack sometimes. Maybe often. It helps me. I know he’s not there, but I don’t care. It makes me feel less lonely.”

  The past couple of nights I’d been too afraid to sleep in my own room thanks to Danny’s creepy presence, but now I felt sorry for him. He wasn’t someone to fear. He was someone I wished I could help.

  Maybe I could.

  I checked the time. We only had a few minutes left. “We have to go,” I said.

  After a quick dash to Sophie’s room I grabbed her cellphone (mine was fried, permanently). Danny and I crept to the stairs. My parents’ bedroom light was still off. It was a lucky thing they were such deep sleepers — they’d had lots of opportunities over the past few nights to wake up and catch Sophie and me sneaking around. I briefly considered waking them — I needed help — but Clara had made it very clear that she’d kill my sister if I told anyone. So telling them was out of the question.