by Jason Hawes
Charlie forgot her promise to her mother and sprinted after the boy. She ran as fast as she could, but the hill was super-steep. It was hard to go fast without falling. She didn’t understand how the boy could be running so quickly.
She forced herself to run faster. She felt a sharp pain in her left side. Her heart pounded hard. The boy was still running, almost to the edge of the water.
“Stop!” Charlie shouted. “I just want to talk to you. Please, stop!”
But even as she ran faster than she ever did before, she knew it wasn’t going to do any good. The boy was too far ahead, and Charlie was never going to get to him in time.
And then the miracle happened. The boy stopped right at the edge of the lake. But Charlie couldn’t. She was going too fast. She tried to stop, but the lakeshore was muddy. It grabbed on to her sneakers and held them tight.
Her momentum was too great and she plunged face-first into the water. Instantly, her shorts and shirt and running shoes were soaking wet and cold.
The water shot straight up Charlie’s nose. It smelled like dead fish. She grasped at the bottom of the lake, trying to push herself up. But the bottom of the lake was soft and muddy, and her hands sank into thick, squishy mud.
Swim, she told herself. She knew how to swim. She tried to straighten and kick. But all she did was churn up mud. The water was a dark, murky brown. She couldn’t tell where the top or bottom was. Slimy weeds wrapped around her leg. They were pulling her down, holding her under. Charlie’s chest felt tight. She was almost out of breath!
Then, all of a sudden, her hands hit something hard. A big rock. Charlie pushed. Her head came out of the water. Charlie gulped air.
It’s all right, she thought. I’m all right.
But she was going to be in so much trouble.
Her mom was never going to understand. She would think Charlie deliberately broke her promise.
But I didn’t! Charlie thought. I was just trying to help that little boy.
The boy. Where was he?
With a great whoosh of water, Charlie staggered to her feet. She spun around. The boy was standing on the bank behind her.
“What are you doing here all by yourself?” Charlie asked. “Why did you run that way? Were you trying to scare me half to death? Are you all right?”
The boy didn’t say anything. He just stood there, staring at Charlie with big, brown eyes. His skin was super-pale. As though he never went out in the sun.
“Who are you, anyway?” Charlie said. “What do you want?”
At that moment, a gust of wind came up. Charlie felt it lift the hair away from her face. It pushed her wet clothes tight against her body. She began to shiver uncontrollably. But not because she was cold.
The boy’s hair. The boy’s clothes. They didn’t move at all.
But he did. He raised one arm. His hand was clenched into a fist. Then, slowly, one finger uncurled. His index finger. It pointed, straight at the lake. Then his whole body gave this funny sort of ripple. As if he were made out of smoke. But his finger never moved. It kept pointing at the lake.
Then, just like that, the boy was gone.
Charlie sat back down in the water.
She didn’t care that her clothes were soaked. She didn’t care about the trouble she was going to be in when she got home.
All she cared about was the image in her head. The little boy pointing at the water. And along with seeing the image, she heard a voice that seemed to be carried by the cold wind.
It circled around and around in Charlie’s brain. Like it was looking for a way back out but couldn’t find one.
Find me, the voice in Charlie’s head said over and over and over. Find me. I’m here.
Find me.
Find me.
FIND ME.
It was the voice of a little boy.
“Let me be clear, right up front,” Mr. Hazelton said. “I don’t believe in ghosts.”
“That’s okay,” Grant answered. His tone was friendly. “A lot of people—”
“Because I don’t want you to think that’s why we called you,” Mr. Hazelton went on. “I don’t want you to think it’s because we think we actually have a ghost. We just want to check things out.”
Lyssa bit down on her tongue to keep from smiling.
“Of course you do.” Grant finally managed to get a word in edgewise. “As I explained when you phoned, we are here just to investigate. We don’t come in with our minds already made up about what we might find. We never try to prove that there is a haunting. In fact, we try to prove there isn’t.”
“Good,” Mr. Hazelton said. “Well, that’s all right, then. We understand each other.”
There was a pause. Now that he’d made his point, Mr. Hazelton didn’t seem to know what else to say. He glanced over at his wife. She was sitting beside him on the couch. Their daughter, Charlie, sat next to her mother.
Jay, Grant, and Lyssa were sitting in chairs across from the Hazeltons in the family’s living room. The rest of the TAPS team were outside unloading the equipment. There was a lot of gear. The team would be investigating both inside the house and out by the lake.
Charlie doesn’t look particularly happy to be here, Lyssa thought. In fact, she looked like she would rather be someplace else.
“I’d like to ask Charlie a question, if that’s okay,” Lyssa said.
The girl lifted her eyes. They were a blue so dark they looked almost black. The expression in them seemed to ask Lyssa a question first: Can I trust you?
“Go ahead,” Mr. Hazelton said.
“Charlie, you’re the only one who has seen the little boy,” Lyssa said. “Is that right?”
“Yeah,” Charlie said. “I’ve seen him lots of times. I keep trying to tell them.” Charlie jerked her chin toward her parents. “They don’t believe me.”
“We’re trying to believe you, honey,” her mother said. “We know leaving all your friends back in Chicago was hard. It’s not unusual to imagine things when everything is new and strange…” Mrs. Hazelton’s voice trailed off.
“I saw him. He’s real,” Charlie insisted.
“The first time Charlie told us about the boy was after she did something she wasn’t supposed to do,” Mr. Hazelton put in. “So naturally we wondered if she was making it up. You know, telling a story to get out of trouble.”
“I explained what happened—” Charlie began.
“I have a question for you, Charlie,” Jason cut in quickly. The girl’s eyes shot to his face. As always, Jason’s expression was steady and calm.
“What?”
“Is the lake the only place you’ve seen the boy?”
Charlie nodded. “Uh-huh. I don’t go near the water anymore. But I can see him from the hill. He isn’t always there, though. Just sometimes. I think Roscoe sees him, too.”
“Who’s Roscoe?” Lyssa asked.
“Our dog. He comes with me when I go for walks. But sometimes he goes down to the lake on his own. Then all he does is just sit there and howl.”
“Does he howl anywhere else?” Jen asked.
Charlie nodded. “Yeah, sometimes. Right outside my room. He always does it when the door to my room locks itself and I get stuck inside. That’s pretty freaky, I have to tell you.”
“Charlie,” Mr. Hazelton said. His voice sounded worried and frustrated all at the same time. “Honey, we’ve been over this. Your door can’t lock itself. It doesn’t even have a lock.”
Charlie shot to her feet. “Fine. Make me sound stupid. You’re always right. I’m always wrong. But guess what?”
“Charlie,” her mother murmured. But Charlie kept right on going.
“I think you know there’s something weird going on around here,” she said to her father. “You just don’t want to admit it. Because then you’d be wrong. Wrong about making us move here in the first place!”
Charlie swung around. Her eyes locked on Lyssa’s. “That little boy is out there,” she said. “I saw him. He needs u
s to find him. If you won’t help him, I’ll do it myself.”
She dashed from the room. A moment later, the front door slammed.
“Charlie!” Mrs. Hazelton called, alarmed.
“I’ll go after her,” Lyssa said. She got to her feet. “Don’t worry. I’ll find her.”
“Lyssa is our chief interviewer,” Grant explained to Mr. and Mrs. Hazelton. “Sometimes kids tell her more when she talks to them on her own. So while she talks to Charlie, maybe you can give us some more details about what’s been going on up at the house.”
“All right. We can do that, can’t we, Ray?” Mrs. Hazelton said.
“We can do whatever it takes,” Mr. Hazelton said. His voice was grim. “But you just remember what I said.”
“I remember,” Grant said. “You don’t believe in ghosts…”
“Okay,” Grant said later that night. “Let’s go over the assignments.”
The TAPS team was in the Hazeltons’ dining room. The family’s big dining table was now the TAPS Command Center. The Hazeltons were staying in a nearby motel.
One night. That’s all Mr. Hazelton agreed to. Just one night to investigate.
“Jen and Mark, you’ll stay inside the house,” Grant went on. “Monitor the equipment and check out Charlie’s room.”
“Gotcha.” Jen and Mark both nodded.
“Jay and I will take the far side of the lake. Mike and Lyssa will take the side closest to the house.”
“Remember, this is the country,” Jason said. “It’s going to be dark out there, guys. Stay together. You’re going to need to really back each other up. We’ve got a couple new pieces of equipment to help with that.”
He pointed at the dining room table. At one end were backpacks and flashlights.
“Here’s how it’s going to work,” Jason explained. “Each team will have one person carrying the flashlight and one carrying the audio recorder. You’ll each have a backpack for supplies and the extra flashlight in case you need a backup.”
“And if you get into trouble, use these,” Grant said. He picked up a handful of shiny silver whistles on nylon cords. He handed them out.
“These are just like the ones that search-and-rescue teams use,” Grant explained as the team put them on. “If something happens, blow your whistle. Don’t just start shouting.”
“Okay, flashlight check,” Jason called out. “Grab your flashlights and packs.”
Jen picked up her flashlight, then moved to the light switch on the wall. “Ready?” she asked.
“Go,” Grant said.
Click!
The light went out. The room was plunged into darkness.
“On my mark,” Grant said. “One. Two. Three.”
Three flashlights went on at once.
“Okay, everybody,” Jason said. “We’re now officially dark. Let’s get busy. We’ve only got one night to find some answers for Charlie.”
Lyssa and Mike followed Jason and Grant outside. The summer night felt hot and thick. The sky was cloudy with no moon or stars. This far out in the country there were no streetlights. The only illumination came from their flashlights.
Lyssa aimed the beam a little ahead of her. She tried to aim it in between her and Mike so they both could see where they were going. The last thing the team needed was for someone to fall down and get hurt. That had happened to Lyssa before, and it wasn’t fun.
The powerful flashlight made a wide beam of bright white light. But outside the reach of the beam, the night seemed to close in.
The group went around the side of the house and started through the orchard. Jason’s right, Lyssa thought. It’s super-dark.
The trees of the orchard stood silent as the TAPS team passed by. Not so much as a breath of wind moved through the branches.
“I’m a little spooked out here,” Lyssa said to Mike in a low voice. “It’s like the trees are alive.”
“I really hate to break this to you, Lyssa,” Mike whispered back. “They are.”
Lyssa choked back a laugh. “Okay,” she said. “You’re right. But you know what I mean.”
“Yeah, I do,” Mike admitted. “It’s like they’re listening or something. But we shouldn’t let our imaginations run away with us. Come to think of it, we shouldn’t run at all. That is one steep hill ahead of us.”
“Roger that,” Lyssa said.
Up ahead, Lyssa could hear Jason and Grant talking in low voices as they walked toward the lake.
Lyssa knew the lake was right at the bottom of the hill. Not far, but the walk seemed to take forever. The team had to go slowly and carefully down the steep hill in total darkness. It seemed to Lyssa that the longer they walked, the thicker the air got. It was like walking through a heavy wool blanket.
We must be getting close to the water, she thought.
Finally, Jason and Grant stopped. Grant held his flashlight out in front of him. Lyssa followed the beam with her eyes. She caught the glint of water.
“This is it,” Grant said. “We’re at the lake. This is where we split up. Remember, stay together. And if you get into trouble, blow the whistle.”
He slapped Jason on the back. “Let’s go.”
Without another word, the two moved off.
Lyssa and Mike were all alone.
“Let’s go this way,” Lyssa said. She pointed with the flashlight. “We can do this half of our side first. Then we can come back here to the middle and do the other part.”
“Sounds good,” Mike said. He pulled the white sweatshirt he wore over his head. “We can mark the spot with this.” He draped it over a bush. “It should be easy to see. And it’s not like I need it anyhow. Man, it’s hot.”
They started walking slowly, following the edge of the lake. Lyssa expected to hear the sound of water lapping the shore. She heard nothing. Everything was silent until Mike spoke.
“How do you think we should do this?”
“What if we walk a little way, then stop and try to make contact with the boy?” Lyssa suggested. “If nothing happens, we can walk a little farther, then try it again.”
“That is just the right thing to do. You know how I know?”
“No, how do you know?”
“Because it was exactly what I was going to suggest!”
Lyssa couldn’t see Mike’s face in the dark. But she was sure that he was smiling. She always liked working with the Hammond twins. They knew that when things got scary, a little laugh really helped.
A few minutes later she said, “Okay. Let’s stop here.”
Mike held the recorder out in front of him. “This is Mike and Lyssa. We’re down by the lake,” he said. He was establishing a base reading for the recorder. “We’re attempting first contact.” He nodded at his partner.
“Hello?” she called out. “My name is Lyssa and this is Mike. We’re here because we know you need some help. We know you’re lost and need someone to find you. Can you help us do that? Can you give us a sign to show us where you are?”
She paused. She could hear Mike breathing quietly at her side. The sounds of crickets and frogs. But she didn’t hear anything that sounded like a boy’s voice.
“I got nothing. What about you?” she finally said.
“Same here,” Mike answered quietly.
“Okay,” Lyssa said. “Let’s change location and try again.”
They moved on. The ground beneath their feet grew swampy. Mosquitoes rose up in great clouds.
“Man,” Mike said. Lyssa heard a slap as he tried to swat the bugs away. “Why didn’t I think to put on bug spray? I’m getting eaten alive!”
“I think I put some in my backpack,” Lyssa said. “Here. Take the flashlight a minute.”
She held it out. The beam swept across the water. Lyssa stumbled back a step. She let out a sharp cry.
“Did you see that?” she gasped. “Did you see it?”
“What?” Mike said. He spun toward the lake. “What is it, Lyssa? What did you see?”
“A fa
ce,” Lyssa choked out. “I saw a face in the water.”
“Where?” Mike said. “Where is it? Show me!”
Lyssa swept the flashlight beam back and forth across the water.
“It was here. I know it was!” she cried.
“Take it easy, Lyssa,” Mike said. “Slow down. Focus.”
“I saw a face. A pale white face,” Lyssa said. She continued to search the lake with the flashlight. But she took Mike’s advice. She moved the beam more slowly.
“All of a sudden, it was just there. But I can’t find it. It’s gone now!”
“Okay. Hang on a minute,” Mike said. “Hold the light steady and take the recorder.”
He handed it over. Lyssa took it in one hand. She held the flashlight with the other. The beam shook. Her hand wasn’t steady. And not just because the flashlight was heavy.
“Got it,” Mike said. He pulled the backup light from the pack and turned it on. Lyssa gave the audio recorder back to him. Mike tucked it under one arm. “Let’s try again. Together, this time.”
The two moved their flashlight beams back and forth across the surface of the water.
“Anything?” Mike asked.
“No,” Lyssa said. “There’s nothing now.”
“Let’s try getting a little closer,” Mike suggested. “Our feet will get wet, but it’s worth a try.”
Together, they approached the water’s edge. Lyssa was glad she had waterproof boots on. Her regular shoes would be soaked by now.
“Sweep to the right, then left,” Mike said. “Ready, set, go!”
Together, the two TAPS team members swept their flashlight beams over the lake.
“Whoa!” Mike suddenly cried. “Did you see that? What is that? It looks like—”
“Like a hand. A bony hand sticking up out of the water,” Lyssa said. She tried to swallow. But she couldn’t. Her throat was too dry.
“I’m going out there,” Mike said.
“You can’t!” Lyssa cried. “We have no idea how deep it is. Please, Mike.”
“I just want to get a little closer,” Mike said. He took a few steps forward, into the water. He held the light out in front of him. “If I can get a better look, maybe I can—”
Lyssa couldn’t let him go alone. She waded in after him. The water felt thick, and the bottom of the lake was slippery. Her front foot slid forward, went in deeper. Lyssa gasped as cold, slimy water crept up over the top of her boots, soaking her jeans.
