‘And he’s right,’ Angeline said, ‘but it’s getting busy out there, paranormally speaking, and who would want to do maths when you can be here ghost-catching?’
‘Yeah.’ He shrugged. ‘Who?’
Just then, a light above them snapped into blackness, and Dylan couldn’t help but see it as an omen of bad things to come.
As the escalators carried them deeper underground, there was an increasing sense of mayhem. Even more lights were blown, their casings smashed. Posters lining the walls were torn into shreds or left hanging by a corner.
‘Cameras on,’ Angeline said. All three pinned their Ghost Club badges to their coats and pressed a button to begin recording. ‘It can be hard to hold a camera still when you face a vortex, so these will come in very handy for our reports.’
When they reached the end of the escalators, Angeline and Edgar held up their Trackers and slowly surveyed the cavernous hall, which led to two passageways on either side of them. There were no red areas of light to indicate paranormal activity.
‘No sign yet,’ Edgar said.
‘Does that mean the ghost is clear?’ Dylan asked, relief surging into his voice.
‘Ghost is clear?’ Angeline nudged him in the side.
‘Gloom’s right – you are funny. Some spectral entities like to be the boss of the show and won’t reveal themselves until they want to,’ Edgar explained.
‘Maybe this one’s had enough and gone home?’ Dylan asked hopefully.
Angeline shook her head. ‘I doubt it. Vortices like to cause a lot of chaos.’
Dylan frowned. ‘A police blockade, petrified commuters and an imprisoned stationmaster isn’t quite enough chaos?’
‘Not even close,’ Edgar said. ‘Their capacity for wreaking havoc can be quite astounding once they get started.’
A squeak escaped from Dylan’s lips. He looked back up the escalators to where the guaranteed safety of his puny life was hidden in darkness a long way away.
From deep within the tunnels came a swirling wind accompanied by a low, grumbling moan.
‘Good, it’s still here,’ Angeline said. ‘I was worried it had left. They can be unpredictable.’
‘You were worried it had left?’ Dylan asked.
‘Yeah. There’s nothing more irritating than getting a call-out and the ghost leaves before you arrive.’
The wind increased, followed by another moan.
‘Come on.’ She grinned like a child waking up on her birthday. ‘We’ve got a vortex to deal with.’
She led them into a passageway and beneath a sign that pointed to Platform Six.
[1](See Ghost Club Book 1: The New Kid)
Platform Six was in a vast, cavernous tunnel. There were gaping holes where tiles had been torn away from the roof. Billboards encased in metal frames hung from their corners or lay facedown on the platform. Light fittings dangled from frayed cords, and garbage bins lay on their sides with rubbish strewn everywhere. The only signs of life were books, a briefcase and the odd shoe left behind in the rush to leave.
Except, of course, for one small thing.
‘Can you hear that?’ Edgar asked.
The three ghost-catchers fell silent, while in the distance came a muffled banging. Halfway along the platform was a small booth with a rather terrified-looking woman inside.
‘Let’s go!’ Angeline led the way, leaping over bins and overturned benches.
The stationmaster’s voice could just be heard behind the glass. ‘Please, get me out.’
‘Don’t worry,’ Edgar said. ‘We’ll release you quicker than a female black widow spider eats her mate.’
This, unsurprisingly, did nothing to ease the stationmaster’s worry.
‘It’s impressively fast,’ Edgar insisted.
‘What he means,’ Angeline said, ‘is that you’ll be safely outside again in no time.’
The stationmaster nodded in relief.
Angeline and Edgar tried to open the door but it wouldn’t budge.
Edgar held up his Tracker. The outline of the booth was fringed with a faint red glow. ‘The electromagnetic flux density is concentrated around the perimeter.’
‘And that means . . .’ Dylan asked.
‘The door’s locked,’ Angeline replied. ‘But not in a regular, key-turning way. Spectral residue has created a paranormal force field that prevents anyone getting in or out.’
‘And the vortex did that?’
‘Afraid so.’
‘Can we get her out?’
‘Absolutely.’ Edgar nodded, and he and Angeline fossicked in their satchels. ‘Especially as we have these.’
They held up two devices resembling metal wands with black handles.
‘But Endora told me that the police tried to break in using crowbars and truncheons. You really think those things are going to work?’
‘These things are called Circuit-Breakers, and they’ll work just fine.’ Angeline grinned.
‘They’re also called Breakers for short,’ Edgar explained. ‘A regular circuit-breaker stops the flow of electricity when there is too much current to operate safely, but this breaks the energy flow of a more spectral nature.’ He turned to his sister. ‘I suggest we apply the highest setting.’ They opened the handles and slid the power meter to high before snapping them shut again.
‘What does that mean?’ Dylan wasn’t even trying to keep the quiver out of his voice anymore.
‘Vortices can be very strong,’ Angeline explained before lowering her voice. ‘And because the stationmaster has already been through enough, we want to get this right the first time.’
‘It will likely cause more damage than the regular setting, though,’ Edgar added.
‘Damage?’
The twins nodded and pulled their goggles over their eyes. They gripped their Breakers with both hands, pointing them at opposite sides of the door.
‘You might want to look away,’ Angeline said. ‘It can get pretty intense.’
Dylan quickly stepped back and hid behind an overturned bench.
Edgar called through the glass. ‘Please turn away and assume the brace position.’ The stationmaster crouched low and covered her head with her arms. ‘Three, two, one!’
Angeline and Edgar pressed the activation buttons on their Breakers. Two bright beams of light struck the edges of the booth, which glowed as if it were electrified. Sparks ricocheted and crackled before striking the floor.
Finally, a sharp explosion shattered the air and the electrified glow was extinguished. Angeline and Edgar lifted their goggles and slipped their Breakers into their satchels.
‘That should do it,’ Angeline said.
Dylan slowly crept out from behind the bench. ‘Do what?’
As if in answer to his question, the door of the stationmaster’s booth fell in an echoing slam to the floor.
‘That,’ Angeline replied.
The stationmaster ran from the booth and hugged each of the ghost-catchers. ‘Oh, thank you, thank you, you little angels. I thought I was going to be stuck in there forever. I was terrified I’d never be able to –’
Another deep, distant moan spilled from the tunnel.
‘You’d better go,’ Angeline said.
‘But what about you?’
A loud moan sounded. This time closer and joined by a gathering wind.
‘We’ll be fine,’ Edgar reassured her. ‘We’ve dealt with phenomena of this nature before.’
The stationmaster needed no other invitation. She turned and ran, her echoing footsteps fading as she bounded up the escalator to freedom.
‘What equipment should I have?’ The platform echoed with Dylan’s quavering voice.
‘We need to get a positive ID on the e
ntity before we can ascertain that.’ Edgar took out his Tracker.
‘But Endora said it was a vortex.’
‘Yes, that was true at the time she analysed the security footage, but there may now be something more.’
‘More?’ Dylan’s breath quickened.
‘Some vortices are loners.’ Angeline examined the other end of the tunnel with her Tracker. ‘Some travel in packs.’
‘Packs?’ Dylan’s eyes flicked around the tunnel. ‘You mean like packs of two or three.’
‘More if they’re really worked up.’ Angeline kept her eye trained on her Tracker, completely missing the look on Dylan’s face that would have told her he was about to be very ill.
The gust of wind strengthened.
‘What are the main things to worry about with a vortex?’ Dylan shuddered.
‘Mostly all the hot air.’ Angeline pursed her lips. ‘They make a lot of fuss and really are the worst kind of show-offs.’
‘And they get nasty?’ Dylan looked around; his breathing began to quicken.
‘Yes, but not like kill-you nasty – just mess-things-up nasty. You still need to have your wits about you, as Grandma would say.’
‘My wits? Shouldn’t I have something more like a cannon?’
Angeline laughed. ‘That’s very funny.’
The screen on Edgar’s Tracker identified a red glow. ‘There’s no activity other than the vortex – and he’s heading this way.’
‘Excellent!’ Angeline said. ‘Atomisers ready.’
She and Edgar quickly whipped out small, metallic, water pistol-like devices, while Dylan scrambled through his satchel.
‘They’re perfect for bad-tempered vortices and by the sound of that moaning, his temper is pretty bad.’
Dylan let loose a small whimper.
‘Never fear,’ Edgar said. ‘The Atomiser’s concentration of subatomic particles work against the vortex’s structural integrity. It’s very effective.’
‘Pardon?’ Dylan felt Edgar’s words scramble in his brain.
Angeline moved closer. ‘He means that as long as you aim correctly, the Atomiser will do the rest. Hoods, everyone.’
They each covered their heads.
‘Goggles.’
Angeline and Edgar adjusted theirs over their eyes in one swift move. Dylan had only just found his Atomiser and was fishing for his goggles. As he searched, the increasing power of the vortex nudged him backwards.
Edgar raised his voice to be heard over the wind. ‘Your boots have had an upgrade since you wore them last. Grandma Rose has added a new and improved suction sole that will keep you firmly secured to the ground.’
‘The switches are near your ankles.’ Angeline was almost shouting now. ‘Activate the suction by knocking your feet together.’
Dylan tried to follow her instruction but was caught by another gust of wind that forced him towards the platform. He lost his balance, his arms circled, and he began to tip back over the edge, all while his brief, insignificant life flashed before his eyes – until Angeline and Edgar grabbed his arms, just managing to stop him from falling onto the black, rubbish-strewn tracks.
‘It’s hard to stand still with all this excitement, I know.’ Angeline led him away from the edge. ‘I keep forgetting this will be your very first vortex! It’s understandable that you’d be a bit jittery – who wouldn’t be? Just don’t forget to activate the suction on your boots.’
Angeline and Edgar showed him how, and this time Dylan banged his ankles together with more success. He found his goggles and fumbled them onto his head, which made his hair stick out in a tufted mess.
The vortex gained more power. Newspapers and sandwich wrappers swirled around them. The noise rang in their ears.
‘Atomisers ready!’ Angeline cried.
They stood with their legs apart, boots suctioned to the floor and two hands held out, clutching Atomisers that were aimed directly at the mouth of the tunnel. A piercing bright light slashed onto the platform, blinding them in a dazzling blanket of white. The noise became an intense, thunderous roar.
Then it appeared. Like a luminescent tornado, it sprang from the tunnel in a destructive burst, filling the railway cavern and looming above them. A ghoulish wailing blasted through the underground chamber. The deafening swirl of wind slammed into their bodies, forcing them to lean backwards while their boots held firm.
‘Atomise!’ Angeline shouted.
Streams of sizzling light discharged, hitting the vortex and rebounding like lightning strikes. Sparks hissed and the whole cavern took on an eerie, orange glow.
The ghost-catchers did their best to hold their arms steady while their bodies shook with the force of the energy field crackling and pouring from their Atomisers.
The vortex began to transform, its bulbous shape contorting as it struggled against capture. There was a final, hair-curling moan before the vortex exploded in a cloud of smoke and snow-like particles that drifted to the ground in sudden, peaceful silence.
‘I love this job!’ Angeline lifted her goggles. A light sprinkle of white dust fell from her coat and hair.
‘That is going to make very impressive archival footage.’ Edgar checked that the camera in his badge was still working.
Angeline flicked away her powdered fringe. ‘What did you think of your first vortex, Dylan?’
But there was no answer, mostly because he was lying on the ground with his eyes closed, arms outstretched and knees in the air, his boots still suctioned to the floor. ‘Dylan?’
Edgar and Angeline deactivated their boots and squatted beside him.
‘Lucky he had his coat on.’ Edgar reached into his pocket for a small glass vial. He unscrewed the cap and held it under Dylan’s nose.
Dylan groaned, winced, then shot upright, his hands held out in front of him. ‘I don’t want to die! No! Take him away. I . . .’ He looked around and realised everything was quiet. ‘Is it over?’
‘The vortex has been atomised,’ Edgar said.
‘It has?’ Dylan sat up straighter.
‘How much of it did you miss?’ Angeline asked.
‘The last thing I remember is you shouting, “Atomise”.’
Her shoulders slumped. ‘You missed the best part.’
Dylan shook his head and tried to look disappointed. ‘That’s a shame.’
‘It is!’ Angeline threw her hands in the air. ‘It’s not very often you get to see a vortex – and hardly ever one like that.’
‘Hopefully there’ll be other opportunities.’ Edgar held out his hand to help Dylan up. ‘But for now we better tell the police the good news.’ He looked around at the powder-covered mess blanketing everything like an underground snowfall. ‘And that there’s a bit of cleaning up to do.’
At the top of the escalators they could hear raised voices demanding to know what was going on.
‘Better put our hoods on,’ Angeline said. ‘It’s always best to be discreet when leaving the scene of a paranormal incident.’
Constable Nickleby spied the young catchers as they reached the top of the escalators. He nudged two officers beside him, who slid open the gates. ‘Is it done?’
‘The eradication of the spectral intruder is complete,’ Edgar said.
‘Does that mean,’ the officer whispered, ‘the ghost is gone?’
‘Yes,’ Angeline answered proudly. ‘He was a bit stubborn and left a bit of a mess, but the station is all yours.’
Constable Nickleby vigorously shook their hands. ‘You have done this city a great, great service – not to mention getting my neck out of a very tight sling.’ He turned to see hordes of schoolchildren spilling out of buses and being directed away from the station. He turned to a fellow officer. ‘I’ll divert the crowd’s attention while you do your
best to get these three young heroes home quickly.’
Nickleby turned and strode confidently to the waiting scrum of media and onlookers. ‘Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for being so patient. I’d now like to make a statement about the events that unfolded here today.’
The officers huddled around the three ghost-catchers and escorted them to a waiting police car. They were carefully ushered inside as cameras and outstretched microphones faced the other way, recording Constable Nickleby’s every word.
As the police vehicle drove away from the station and the crowd was focused on Nickleby’s speech, one pair of eyes was drawn to the departing car, just as the hood of one of the passengers was momentarily pushed aside. The onlooker was startled to see, sitting calmly in the back seat, a young girl he knew as Angeline Usher.
‘Oh no, here comes Travis.’ Angeline was sitting on a bench, waiting for school assembly to begin.
‘Maybe he’s not coming over here,’ Edgar said hopefully.
Travis’s scuffed shoes made a direct line to them. ‘You really think so?’
‘No, but at times like this it’s important to have a sense of optimism.’
Angeline smiled. ‘If you weren’t my brother, I’d think you were very strange.’
‘Thank you,’ Edgar said. ‘I’ll take that as a compliment.
‘Why does he have to bother me?’ Angeline studied her shoes, desperate to appear as if she hadn’t noticed him.
Travis stepped straight into a skipping rope, stopping the play of a bunch of second graders who had to untangle themselves in his wake.
‘And it’s not fair to any of us. I do all I can to stay out of his way, but he always manages to find me.’
‘Maybe it’s your charm?’ Edgar offered.
‘Well, if it is my charm, he never mentions it and chooses to focus instead on how weird I am.’
‘Correction,’ Edgar held a finger in the air. ‘He focuses on how weird he thinks you are. I happen to think you are perfectly normal.’
Ghost Club 2 Page 3
