The Haunting of Hounds Hollow

by Jeffrey Salane

  “‘Come on over,’ you said,” whispered Lens. “‘I’ve got something to show you. It’ll be fun!’ you said. You never mentioned ghost dogs!”

  Balls, thought Lucas. Dogs love balls. Dogs love to play fetch. Maybe that’s true for ghost dogs!

  Lucas held the ball out to show Casper, and then chucked it as far as he could. The ball thunked against the back of the barn doors as the tiny beast skittered after it. Instantly the room plummeted back to a normal temperature. Then, as if nothing strange had happened, the cute white mutt strutted back in with the ball in his mouth and dropped it next to Lucas.

  “Lens, can you throw the ball again?” asked Lucas as he grabbed Silas’s Hound Pound journal.

  “Me, throw a ball to that?” Lens was frozen still.

  Bess picked up the ball instead and waved it at Casper. “Here, creepy critter, here you go. You want your ball? Well, go get it.”

  She rolled the ball into one of the stalls, and as soon as Casper went inside, she slammed the wrought-iron gate closed. Casper sat by the ball; he blinked curiously, but he didn’t attempt to escape.

  As the boys came rushing in, Bess held her finger to her lips.

  “He looks almost … happy,” said Lens.

  “Some dogs see crates like a security blanket,” said Bess. “It gives them a sense of safety. This barn is his original home, so it should put Casper at ease. This place survived the fire, after all. Safety.”

  “Bess, you’re a genius!” said Lucas as he gave her a hug, but she pulled away nervously.

  “It’s one dog, Lucas,” said Bess. “We’re never going to catch the rest of the pack.”

  “Actually, I think we can.” Lucas flipped open the journal and tapped on a list. “See here, Silas made a list of each dog’s favorite toy. Casper loved the red striped ball. I think that’s what, I don’t know, tamed him, or made him more dog than beast.”

  “So?” asked Bess.

  “So Silas left all the dog toys locked in the desk!” he cheered. “We’ve already found them! Now all we need to do is find the other dogs!”

  “Oh, sure, like that’s the easy part,” Lens complained. “I mean, are we seriously going to capture wild devil dogs in your house?”

  Before Lucas could answer, a buzzer sounded from the control room like an alarm. The kids ran back inside to find a blinking light under a row of controls. All eyes flicked up to the screens as the cameras froze on a four-legged gray smudge dragging itself through the hall. The image moved like ripped-up paper drifting through the air, like it was flipping over in a million pieces instead of walking like a dog. Lucas could almost hear the violins picking their high strings like they did in horror movies when something creepy was happening, but the microphones didn’t register any noise.

  “What in the world is that?” whimpered Lens.

  “That’s our next target,” said Lucas, glancing at the name written on the yellow tape. “Dakota.”

  Lucas armed himself with a backpack full of ancient dog toys. He labeled them, matching each toy to each dog according to the journal. His parents used to put similar labels on toys he’d bring to the hospital during overnight tests. The hairs rose on his arms just thinking about the ice-cold air-conditioning in those rooms.

  But that was a long time ago in a city far away. Now he was walking into one of the deeper wings of Sweetwater Manor with rubber bones and chew toys to face off against a ghost. Somewhere on the second floor, after eight right-hand turns, probably a few wrong turns, and passing at least five different cuckoo clocks, Lucas, Bess, and Lens finally reached Dakota’s room. It was Lens who had pieced together a system of the camera locations like a map based on notes Silas had left behind. Whether Silas left the notes for them or for someone else, Lucas couldn’t be sure. But as they walked, Lens spotted each camera and verified the number to lead them through the maze.

  As they walked, Lucas noticed several doorknobs that had the same bone mark etched into them like the trapdoors he’d found on his first trip inside the house. Before he could say anything, Bess waved him on impatiently, and Lucas ran to catch up. If he lost track of Lens, he’d never find his way back.

  The hallway decor transitioned from fancy white wallpaper with blue peacock patterns to an uneven shiplap of wood that reminded Lucas of log cabins.

  “We’re close to where the alarm sounded,” Lens said in barely more than a whisper. “Bess, why don’t you take the lead?”

  Bess stepped forward and Lucas followed. He wielded a squeaker clown toy in his hand like a sword. The label wrapped around the clown’s neck read Dakota.

  “Put that stupid thing down.” Bess pushed at his arm.

  Lucas lifted it back up and gave it a squeak. “Laugh now, but when it works, you’ll thank me.”

  The three friends continued down the hallway until it opened up into a huge room. A cathedral ceiling arched above them as a gray stone fireplace crackled with an unattended fire. The only light in the room came from the fireplace. Flames popped loudly and danced, showing off the comfortable and rustic furniture. Leather chairs with brass-studded accents sat empty next to soft velvet couches that were buried under an avalanche of throw pillows.

  “I don’t suppose you brought any s’mores in that backpack?” asked Bess.

  Lucas stepped into the glow of the strange fire. “Well, I wasn’t expecting to find a working fireplace in the middle of my haunted house, so, no.”

  He turned to face the open room. It was so massive that the far edges were out of reach from the fire’s light, but shadows loomed. “I don’t suppose you brought a flashlight?”

  Lens shook his head. “That would have been a good idea. Why isn’t the sun shining in here?”

  Large windows reached all around the room, but it was pitch-black outside. Lucas went over to one and peered through the dark glass. “There are walls built behind these windows. Why would Silas wall this place in?”

  “Why did Silas do anything?” asked Bess. “It’s part of his trap. Dakota must be here.”

  Lens found a lamp and turned the knob. It clicked, but the light stayed out. “No electricity, either.”

  “This is the rustic cabin room,” answered Bess. “Of course there’s no power. Silas was a stickler for details like that. Just look above us.”

  Lucas and Lens peered toward the ceiling. A giant chandelier of antlers and unlit candles hung over them. Or at least Lucas hoped they were antlers; they could just as easily have been bones. The boys quickly stepped aside so they weren’t directly underneath it.

  Then Lens held up his camera. “I have a flash. Will that work?”

  Lucas gulped. The last time Lens used his flash, it had been a horror show in the forest. “Sure … ,” he said hesitantly. “Let’s give it a try.”

  The flash went off, sending a flare of light into the darkness. Instantly the kids were not alone. As the gloom returned, they could not unsee what was lurking in the corner. A hulking beast stood six feet tall on two legs, reaching out its claws.

  Lucas knew that there was only one thing to do: use the squeaker. Turning to Bess, he shouted, “Cover me!”

  He jumped and charged the beast, squeezing the clown squeaker furiously. It sounded like a demonic, high-pitched laugh echoing in the tall room. Squee-Ker, Squee-Ker, Squee-Ker, Squee-Ker. The toy clown’s eyes, ears, and tongue popped out with every frantic clutch of Lucas’s fist.

  Bess, armed with throw pillows she found on the couch, threw them at her target, but they bounced off harmlessly.

  When Lucas crashed into the belly of the strange animal, he realized what they were up against. It was only a stuffed and mounted grizzly bear trophy. It rocked gently on its pedestal as Lucas slumped down against its legs. “You can come out now. We successfully defeated a giant teddy bear.”

  With one final deflated squeak, Lucas nudged the outstretched arms of the hunter’s trophy. The bear’s eyes were glassy and cold. Its claws were polished and softened at the tips, erasing any sha
rp or cutting edges. Lucas wondered why it was in the room.

  As his eyes became used to the darkness, he could make out more shapes. A deer head hung on the wall. An antelope posed in another corner as if it were running. Even a green-scaled crocodile was curled in an eternal hiss, baring its teeth.

  Lens snapped another picture of a small fox perched on a side table like a cat hopping around furniture in the den. “This place is creepy, no doubt.”

  “There goes our element of surprise,” said Bess. “Did you have to squeak the squeaker so many times?”

  Lucas picked up a pillow and threw it at Bess. “Did you have to start a pillow fight?”

  “Hey, I use what I have.” A smile crept up at the corners of Bess’s mouth. It almost looked like she was having a good time. “And I have a lot of pillows here.”

  The kids listened as silence covered the room like a tarp. Lucas could feel the quiet around his shoulders. He glanced at the fireplace. The flames licked against the logs, turning red and yellow at the tips and blue at the base. As they flickered, Lucas walked closer and put his hand to his ear. “Guys, the fire. It’s not making noise anymore.”

  Bess wiped the back of her neck with her hand. “Well, it’s putting out a lot of heat. I’m getting a sunburn over here.”

  Suddenly a warm breeze blew through the room and slammed every door. The kids jumped as the unlit candles flickered to life and burned brighter and brighter and brighter.

  “No, no, no,” Lucas said as he squinted his eyes in the harsh new light. “I think we found Dakota.”

  A low snarl bristled in the space. It seemed to be right beside each of the kids, sending Lens curling into one of the leather chairs, while Bess dove into the pillows. In the glare of the candles, a gray shadow stalked forward.

  The shadow was out of focus like a smudge that heaved as it moved closer and closer. Lucas thought he was watching an actual nightmare trying to tear its way out of a dream. He pinched himself to make sure he was awake. And he was.

  With every step the shadow took, the light amped up, making it harder for Lucas to keep his eyes open. Heat washed over him in ripples, and Lucas could feel the rubber toy in his hand go softer and softer in the high temperature. He let it drop to the floor.

  A bark shattered the silence like broken glass, making Lucas quiver. Dakota was right next to him. Then the hound stood on two legs and placed her paws on Lucas’s chest. A burning-hot nose sniffed around him as Lucas became trapped in the dog’s gray cloud. He could hear the animal’s hot breath, like ashes blowing from a volcano. It smelled of sulfur and rot, like the oxygen in the room had been replaced with death.

  Then a pillow whipped past Lucas and smacked the dog in the face.

  “Pillow fight!” screamed Bess.

  The hound bared her muddy, black teeth at the pillow, seizing it in her jaws and tearing it apart. Bess pulled Lucas out of the way, then rushed straight toward Dakota.

  “Bess! No!” he objected, but it was too late.

  Squee-Ker, Squee-Ker. The shrill sound of the toy clown burst into the room like a thunderclap. Bess had picked it up and now she squeezed it again and again. Squee-Ker, Squee-Ker.

  The hound snapped its gnarled mouth, lurching violently outside of the gray cloud for the first time. The movement was quick and Bess almost dropped the toy. Dakota was completely disfigured. Any fur the dog once had was gone, and in its place a black char of muscles and bone pulsed with a new curiosity.

  Bess approached the animal and kept squeezing the toy. With each squeal, the lights in the room dimmed and the gray cloud shrunk back from the hound. Dakota was beginning to look more and more like a normal dog. Brown, white, and black hair sprouted from the dark patches of burned flesh. Soon Lucas could tell that the dog had been a shepherd breed before the fire. In her new form, Dakota sat and slowly wagged her tail.

  Bess knelt in front of the dog. It cautiously sniffed the clown toy, then sniffed Bess’s hand. “Dakota?” she asked.

  Woof! the dog answered.

  Bess gave a relieved smile to Lucas and Lens, who were both armed with more pillows and ready to battle. The toy had worked. She leaned down, still holding the squeaker between herself and Dakota. “My name is Bess. I’d like you to come with me back to your real home. Okay?”

  Dakota tilted her head at the word home. Then she let out a happy whine and brushed against the toy in Bess’s hand. Bess took it as an invitation and petted the dog’s head. Dakota’s hair was soft, but still bristled with energy.

  Bess wore a doubtful smile. “No way. No way it’s this easy, right?”

  “Maybe it’s like opening a locked door,” suggested Lens. “All we needed was the key.”

  “But what if there’s a reason the door was locked in the first place?” said Bess. “I don’t like it. A toy can’t be a weapon. It feels too simple. Where’s the fight? Dakota has been trapped for years and she rolls over at the first sight of a toy?”

  “For the record, it didn’t seem simple to me,” said Lucas.

  “All I had to do was stand there,” said Bess.

  “And not die. Don’t forget that part.” Lucas’s voice remained steady and calm as he watched her pet the dog. The same dog that a few seconds ago was ready to latch her jaws into his throat. “Besides, the toy isn’t a weapon. It’s a peace offering. I think standing up to your fear is the weapon.”

  The others were quiet.

  Lucas nodded and stood up. “We should go.”

  Bess went over to the closest door, and Dakota followed with her tail wagging. She reached for the wooden knob, but it wouldn’t turn. Quickly, Bess tried the next one, but it was locked, too. Lucas and Lens ran to the other doors. They were all locked.

  Then Dakota whimpered and pointed her nose back to the fireplace.

  “What’s going on, girl?” Bess asked. “Is there something else we need from here? Not that I like taking directions from a monster mutt.”

  Ignoring Bess, Lens looked at the fire and then to Dakota. The dog had slinked down and made herself smaller, lying with her belly on the floor and her paws tucked under her head. “She’s scared,” he said. “Believe me, I know a scared animal when I see one.”

  “There’s nothing to be scared of, girl,” said Lucas as he walked over to the fireplace. He knocked the stone backing three times lightly. “See? It’s harmless.”

  Then something knocked back and Lucas jumped away. The fire started to crack and pop again, but this time the noise grew louder. Hissing erupted, too, as the fire grew suddenly out of control. Flames spiked into the room and the fire dragged itself out of the fireplace, scorching the wooden floors.

  “So not harmless! So not harmless!” screamed Lens as he ran over and grabbed a blanket. He tossed it over the fire to smother it, but the flames were too strong. The fire singed a hole in the blanket and began to vibrate. Four blazing legs slowly unfurled from the fire’s belly, lifting the inferno off the ground. A small nose pushed out of the brightness like a knife. It opened up its jaws and clamped them down. A fiery tongue lashed out and licked its flaming lips as if the monster craved the taste of fear in the room.

  “What’s going on, Dakota?!” snapped Bess.

  The fire monster howled at Dakota’s name, a woeful bale of burning sadness. The sound nearly melted Lucas’s heart. As the beast trudged slowly, the air filled with smoke. Thick clouds billowed around the kids as they dropped to their knees like Dakota had done. The air was cooler down there, but Lucas was still having trouble breathing.

  “It’s another hound,” coughed Bess. “Open your backpack! Get out the dog stuff.”

  Lucas pulled his arm out of the left strap and flipped the pack around. He unzipped it to dig through everything, but the heat and smoke hit him hard. An attack was coming. Lucas slid the backpack over to Bess, but the toys spilled and scattered across the floor.

  Lens acted quickly, gathering the toys and trying each one as the fire beast slumped closer to Lucas. Nothing worked.
<
br />   The air was gone from Lucas’s lungs now. He’d experienced this only once before during a stress test to study his lung strength. But this time it was different. Lucas couldn’t simply put on an oxygen mask when he’d reached the breaking point. This time it was real. His hand flapped by his side like a fish out of water, searching for his inhaler. Just as he touched it with his fingers, his body convulsed, and the small, red-and-white canister slid out of his reach.

  “Lucas!” screamed Bess as Dakota darted over to him. The dog looked back and forth between Lucas and the inhaler.

  Quickly, Bess grabbed an old chew bone and hurled it into the fire, but the monster batted it aside. It kept dragging itself toward Lucas, who was lying on his back. “Lucas! Get up! It’s coming for you!” she screamed. “Which dog is it?!”

  Woof! Dakota barked.

  The flame beast paused for a moment and cocked its head.

  Woof! Dakota barked again as she bounded between Lucas and the fire. Dakota barked sharply, as if she were speaking to the fire, warning it to stay away. With each bark, Bess started to truly hear the shepherd.

  Woof!

  Woof!

  Woof!

  Doof!

  Doofk!

  Dook!

  “Duke!” yelled Bess. “It’s Duke! Find his toy!”

  Lens fumbled around on the floor and finally grabbed the pig’s ear. The note around it read Duke. “Here, boy! I bet you want some flame-grilled barbecue!”

  Lens threw the ear into the fire and plugged his ears. The smoke in the air, the flames around Duke’s body, and the crushing heat of the room all exploded inward and formed into a squat, brown bulldog.

  Lucas gasped as the air rushed back over him in reverse. The doors in the room blew open and the candles all went out. He patted the ground in the suddenly cold darkness looking for his inhaler, but he only found the wood floor.

  Then Bess jerked him upright, shoved the inhaler into his mouth, and pressed down. A jet of cool air reached down his throat as Lucas tried calmly to let the medicine work. His pathways opened and he felt his chest loosen its tight grip. Lucas pressed the inhaler for a second dose, taking a deep, deep breath. Then he smiled and whispered, “What did I miss?”