The Ghost Files 3

by Apryl Baker

I should help her. She might be one of the drowned girls, but this one at least doesn’t want to hurt me. All I get from her is confusion and fear. Making up my mind, I pick up my dress and walk around the edges of the ballroom. She darts into the hallway and I follow her.

  It’s dark. I can see a light flickering at the end of the hallway, but it barely gives off enough light to see by. Where did she go?

  “Hello?” I call out. “I want to help you.”

  Further down the hall, I hear a creak. Why do they run? They find me and then they run from me. If I can talk to her, I can get her to cross over. I take a few more steps down the hall. “Hello? Where are you?”

  The door slams behind me.

  I jump and back up hastily. Maybe I’m wrong about her not wanting to hurt me. I twist the handle but it’s locked. Dang it. I pound on the door, but I don’t think anyone can hear me. The door is right beside the speakers and the music was on full blast as I passed by them.

  Footsteps sound down the hallway and I press against the door. Does she want to hurt me? Or is she just scared?

  “Come out!” I call.

  Scratches sound next to my ear. I turn my head slowly and see the bloated, grotesque face of another girl. She’s smiling at me, her brown eyes glowing with hatred. There are small burns all over her face. Cigarette burns. Whoever did this to these girls enjoyed torturing them.

  “I can help you,” I whisper.

  “Oh, you’re going to help me, all right.” Her voice is harsh, hollow.

  “That’s all I want to do,” I tell her. “If you’ll let me.”

  “Run,” she says, her voice grating inside my head, making me wince. “Run, Mattie!”

  I can feel the room plunge to freezing in a heartbeat. My bones burn from the cold. There are more of them here, maybe all of them. They mean to do me real harm. Whispers begin to echo in my head, whispers of death, of what they are going to do to me.

  I run.

  The hallway gets darker the farther down I go and I trip, my heel catching on something. I throw my arms out in front of me to try to brace my fall, but I only end up causing my left wrist to twist as I fall. Fudgepops. The pain is sharp. I’ve either broken it or sprained it really badly. Using my good hand, I try to push up. A hand wraps around my ankle and starts to pull me backwards. I kick out but hit nothing. Another hand grabs my free ankle and I scream as I’m dragged toward a darkened room. If they get me in there, God only knows what will happen.

  I reach out trying to find something to hold onto. Nothing but the hard wooden floor.

  Laughter fills my head. I could open The Between, but the thought terrifies me. What can I do?

  “Mattie?”

  The laughter dies down and while the hands don’t release me, they aren’t pulling me.

  My head snaps around and I see Meg standing in the now open doorway. Thank you, God.

  “Meg, I need help. I think I broke my wrist.”

  She sighs and starts walking towards me. “I swear to God, Mattie Hathaway, you are a walking accident waiting to happen. You get injured more than I do during my annual trip to the Prada clearance event.”

  The door slams and she spins around. “What the…”

  Something is placed over my mouth and I gag at the stench filling my nose. Chloroform? Something worse?

  I see Meg fall and then nothing.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  I slam into something hard and it jars me awake. A groan slips out when I hit it again. Metal. A headache the size of Texas is throbbing behind my eyes and my mouth tastes nasty. At this rate, I really will get brain cancer before I hit twenty. A person can only hit their head so many times before permanent damage is done.

  My eyes open to darkness. I try to move, but my hands are tied behind my back and my feet are bound together, too. Panic sets in and memories of my torture at Mrs. Olson’s hands invade my mind. I can almost smell my own fear as I remember that awful, dark time. I’d been bound, gagged, and tortured.

  Focus, Mattie, I tell myself. Focus on what you can control. I’m not gagged, so I can scream, but the blare of the radio drowns out my voice. He’s got it turned up so loud no one could hear me even if he stops. I have to be in the trunk of the car. I test my bonds. They’re tight, but it’s rope, not duct tape. I might be able to work the knots out. I want to scream when I realize the knots are in a place my fingers can’t get to. My right hand is throbbing from the fall I took earlier. I guarantee it’s broken with my luck.

  A moan catches my attention and I turn my head. My eyes have adjusted to the darkness enough to make out another shape. Meg? I roll and go tumbling into her. She grunts. Come on, wake up!

  “Meg!” I shout into her ear. “MEG!”

  Another low groan follows. “Mattie?” She sounds groggy.

  “Wake up, Meg, please.”

  “What…where…I can’t move…oh, God, why are my hands tied?” I can sense her start to panic.

  “Calm down,” I try to soothe, but it’s hard to do while shouting. “We need to get our hands untied. I can’t reach my ropes. If we turn around, I should be able to reach yours. Once I get you untied, you can do the same for me. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  I can barely hear her over the music, but she turns and so do I. My fingers search for the rope binding her wrists and after a minute, I touch it. I work my way to the knot and start to pull at it. He tied it tight, but it doesn’t matter. I have to get her loose. If I don’t, I won’t get loose and there is no way I’m going to be helpless like that ever again. I’m not sure how long it takes me, but I eventually loosen it enough to really pull the knot loose.

  We hit a bump before I can and this time we both crash against the back of the trunk. Meg hits me and I cough as her elbow knocks the breath out of me for a second. I have to lay there until I can breathe again.

  “Almost done,” I tell her. “Roll onto your side again.” This time when my fingers find the knot, it comes loose easily. I give her a minute to rub her hands then remind her to untie me. Once my hands are free, relief sweeps through me. I’m not helpless. I can find something in this trunk to hurt someone with. Watch and see if I don’t. I pull my knees up and undo the rope binding my feet together. Meg shifts, so I’m guessing she’s doing the same thing.

  “Do you have your phone?” I ask, my hands searching around me, looking for anything remotely resembling a weapon.

  “No,” she yells. “I left it in my purse at the party.”

  Fudgepops. I don’t have mine, either. On to Plan B. Even though I don’t see the glow in the dark latch, it’s worth looking for anyway. I run my hands over the trunk lid and sure enough, I feel the safety latch that will release the trunk if someone is trapped inside. Thank God.

  I hope it works.

  “Take your shoes off,” I say.

  “Why?” Her voice is hoarse. She’s terrified. Not a lot I can do there. So am I, but she can’t let her fear get the best of her if she wants to survive.

  “Two reasons.” I pull my own heels off. “We’re going to pop the trunk and make a run for it as soon as we stop. You can’t run in heels any more than I can. Your stilettos will also work as a weapon. Those heels are deadly. We might be able to poke an eye out if we’re lucky.”

  “You mean fight him?” she asks.

  “If you don’t fight, you die, Megan,” I shout into her ear.

  “Is he the one Dan told me about? The guy targeting…”

  “Targeting the mayor’s daughter and the foster girl,” I finish grimly. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s the same guy.”

  “None of them survived.” Her voice sounds hollow.

  “Because they were stupid,” I snap. “They didn’t have me as a best friend! I’m not going to let you die, Meg, but you have to help me. We’re going to run and I’m hoping we can get away, but if we can’t, you have to do your part. You have to kick, bite, scream, gouge out his eyes. There are two of us and one of him. We can do this.”

&nb
sp; “We can do this,” she repeats.

  “Scoot towards the back and see if you can find anything that’ll work as a weapon,” I say. “There’s nothing up here. Look for a tire iron or something like that.”

  Meg shuffles toward the back and I keep searching with my hands and feet. Who keeps a trunk this clean?

  “Uh, Mattie…”

  “Yeah, you find something?”

  “I found duct tape and more rope.” The fear is back in her voice. She’s imagining what he can do to us, to her, with that. I don’t even want to think about it. If I do, I might let the fear crowd back in. Right now, I’m focused and in control. I have to stay that way. I can’t let her die. It would destroy Dan. It would kill me. She may have hurt me, but I care about Meg. She really is my best friend. Nothing like imminent death to make me realize that.

  “Don’t think about it,” I say. “Just concentrate on what we’re going to do. When the car stops, I’m going to pull the latch, then we’re going to jump out and run like crazy, screaming at the top of our lungs. Got it?”

  The car starts to slow and we swerve. I’m pretty sure we’re on I-77 from the way the car feels. It rides smooth, with just a few bumps. We feel like we’re moving faster than we would be on a regular highway. He must be pulling off onto one of the exit ramps. Maybe we’re going back to the lake? If we do, then we have a fighting chance. The only area you can drive to first is the populated area. You have to take a boat to the other side.

  “Mattie?” Meg reaches over and grabs my hand, squeezing hard.

  “Shhh,” I say. “Give me one of your spiky heels.”

  We’re moving at a slower pace now, so I’m guessing we’re on the main highway in Mooresville. I take the shoe Meg hands over. All we can do is wait until we reach the lake. The ride is slow. Probably because I’m counting the minutes, but it takes its toll on my nerves. Waiting sucks. It lets your mind wander and I have to forcefully remind myself that Eli knows I’m in trouble. He always knows when I need him. When he gets to the party and finds me missing, they’ll raise the alarm. He knows where you are, I remind myself. He can always find you. Always.

  The cavalry will come, we just have to survive long enough for them to arrive.

  The tires crunch on dirt and gravel. We’re on the lake road. I remember the sound from when we were at the lake the other day. Soon, the car will stop.

  “Get ready,” I tell Meg.

  We hit several potholes, but Meg never lets go of my hand. The car slows down further and I grip her hand in an iron hold. When it stops, I don’t hesitate. I grab the latch and yank. The trunk lid flies up and I’m scrambling out, pulling Meg with me. She stumbles, but when she gets her balance, we run. I don’t look back. If I look back, I’ll slow down.

  “Get into the trees!” I shout and run faster, forcing Meg to run with me. Twigs and gravel bite my feet and I wince, but I ignore the sharp pain. Pain is good. It means I’m alive. Run, Mattie, just run.

  A string of curse words follow us and then he’s running. His footsteps are heavy and they pound against the gravel. Meg speeds up at the sound and when we hit the tree line, we keep running, weaving in and out of the thick clusters of trees. I can barely see a small break in them above and I veer to the right, pulling Meg with me. We just barely manage to squeeze into the opening, but we’re surrounded by trees on all sides. Our backs are protected.

  Please, dear God, keep us safe, I pray.

  Meg opens her mouth to say something and I clamp my hand over it, shaking my head. We’re safe unless he hears us. I hope.

  He runs past us and when I hear his footsteps in the distance, I let out the breath I’d been holding. Thank you, thank you, thank you, God.

  “Is he gone?” Meg whispers in my ear.

  I nod. I listen and then step out. Meg stays close behind me. We both start running back the way we came. I’m not sure where the car is parked. I didn’t stop to look around, but I’m betting we’re pretty close to someone’s house or the apartment complex on the lake. We just need to find someone to call the cops.

  When we break free of the trees, I can see where we are. We’re close to the docks. Several boats are parked there. He’d planned on putting us in one of them and then driving out to the east side of the lake to kill us. Anger flares hot inside of me at the thought.

  “Mattie, I see a car coming!” Meg points and I turn to see a car approaching. We hunker down beside the car and wait.

  “Jake,” Meg breathes a sigh of relief as the driver gets out of the old Honda Civic.

  What is Jake Owens doing out here at this time of night? Before I can stop her, she’s sprinting towards him and throws herself into his arms, sobbing for all she’s worth. I’m slower to follow, more cautious.

  “What is it?” Jake is saying when I reach her. “What happened?”

  Her words all come out in a rush and Jake is frowning, trying to sort them out. He seems genuinely concerned. Maybe my protective instinct is in overdrive. Jake is one of the nicest guys I know. Besides, our would-be kidnapper is off running in the woods looking for us.

  “Do you have a phone?” I ask.

  “Mattie?” He looks from Meg to me, confused. “What happened?”

  “Do you have your phone?” I repeat.

  He fishes it out of his pocket and tosses it at me. “Here. Now what happened? Meg’s not making any sense.”

  “We got grabbed at the Masquerade and tossed into the trunk of a car,” I bark and then wince. He’s only trying to help. “Sorry, it’s just…it’s been…”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he soothes while trying to console a blubbering Meg.

  I go to switch on his phone and nothing. What? His phone is dead? No, no, no!

  “Your phone is dead,” I say and give it back to him.

  “Sorry, I forgot to put it on charge last night. Haven’t used it much today.”

  “Can you take us to the police station?” I ask, my voice soft and tired.

  “Sure.” He nods. “Are you guys hurt?”

  “Just some bumps and bruises, mostly.” I shake my hand, which is throbbing. “I think I might have broken my wrist earlier, though.”

  “Maybe we should take you to the hospital first and have the police meet us there,” Jake suggests.

  “No, police first, hospital later.” I shake my head. “Can we please go before he comes back?”

  “Too late.”

  We all hear the click of a trigger being pulled back on a gun and turn to see one pointing at us.

  Even I can’t outrun a gun.

  Chapter Thirty

  “You’re late,” the shooter grunts.

  My eyes widen and I look at Jake, who’s still holding onto Meg. Oh. My. God. Jake is working with this guy? I stare at him, confused. How could I have misjudged him so badly? I’m usually good at reading people. Jake is a murderer?

  “Sorry, had to grab the shovels.”

  My head whips around and I see Paul Owens, Jake’s little brother, standing behind us. He looks a lot like Jake, but he’s taller and a little more muscular than his older brother. They share the same dark hair and build. You would never guess Mitch is a year younger than Jake. He looks older.

  “Paul?” Jake asks, confused. “What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same question.” Paul shuts the trunk of his car and walks over to us. He must have gotten here before Meg and I came out of the woods. We hadn’t seen his car pull in. “You’re supposed to be home.”

  “There’s a party on the lake tonight. People should start arriving any minute,” Jake tells his brother, frowning.

  “I didn’t hear about a party.” Paul swings his flashlight over to the guy holding the gun. “You know anything about it?”

  “He’s right.” The guys step into the beam of the flashlight. “I heard them talking about it on campus.”

  Mason Jones?

  My mouth drops open. Mason? My friend Mason? The same Mason that tutored Dan? The same
Mason that Eric body jumped so he could be with me on my birthday? How can it be Mason?

  “Surprise!” He grins at me, but it’s all teeth and malice.

  “Why?” I ask. Why would he do this?

  “Why not?” he shrugs. “You look confused, Mattie.”

  “I am,” I admit. “I never suspected…”

  “You weren’t supposed to.” He grins. “After you decided to brush me off for your precious Officer Dan, I got a little upset. Imagine my surprise when I found out the Beauty Queen over there started dating him and you were with someone else. Upset is too mild of a word for what I felt when I discovered that. I had been patient until that point. Killing the others eased some of my frustration and anger. It moved up my timeline.”

  “Mason, we’re friends,” I say.

  He laughs harshly. “Friends? I was never good enough for you, was I, Mattie?”

  “What is going on?” Jake demands. He keeps glancing from Mason to his brother.

  “Why Meg?” I ask softly.

  “Meg isn’t for me. She’s Paul’s. He has his own reasons.”

  “What is he talking about?” Jake asks. “Paul, what’s going on?”

  Paul laughs. “Beauty Queen. That’s an apt description for the girl who looked down her nose at my family all her life. By the time I’m done with her, no one will ever mistake her for a beauty queen again.”

  Jake gapes at his brother. Paul sounds so cold, so casual about mutilating a girl he’s known most of his life, who’s been friends with his brother since grade school. I’d never really gotten to know Paul very well and I’m so glad I didn’t. It’ll be easier to hurt him.

  “So what, you two hook up in a Serial Killers R Us chat room and decide to pool your resources?” I ask, my voice as snarky as I can make it. I can’t let them know how terrified I am.

  Paul laughs. “I always liked you, Mattie. You got game, girl. Shame Mason hates you so much.”

  “My brother is not a serial killer!” Jake shouts, startling us. His eyes are wild, unwilling to accept what’s staring him in the face. He pushes Meg away and starts to walk towards Paul.