She smelled dust, mildew, and something else she could not place. It was unpleasant, whatever it was. Isabel was ready to search the maze of junk when she heard a door creak. The sound came from behind the ancient-looking boiler, which stood in front of an old wooden door, hanging half open. She opened the door and peered inside. There were stairs leading down to a brightly lit space, some sort of a sub-basement. From what she could see, the space looked clean, as if it had been very well maintained.
She felt a tinge of nervousness. Isabel brushed it aside. She sensed that even if this house was full of spirits, they were good. Whatever they might want from her, they meant her no harm.
Unless it's like that ghost story. Unless they're trying to trick you, her mind warned. There was a crawling sensation on the back of her neck, as if she was being watched. She turned around quickly and couldn't see anyone there. Isabel started to call out, but found that she didn't want to break the silence around her.
She turned and took the first step down the stairs. The sound of her foot on the step suddenly seemed very loud to her, and she considered turning around now and waking up Max and Michael. Again, she decided not to. She would solve this herself. This wasn't a movie, and she wasn't a moron in a nightshirt rushing into the arms of the ax murderer in the basement.
Isabel flexed her hand, feeling her powers coalesce around and inside of her. She was more than able to defend herself against anything. If there were good spirits here, she would try to find out what they wanted. If there
was something else here… something darker… she could handle that, too.
Isabel continued down the stairs and into a corridor brightly lit with long, fluorescent lights. Then there it was: At the end of the corridor, the figure was standing, facing her. No, it wasn't a figure. Isabel could see that it was a person. It was wearing some kind of an old-fashioned cloak. The person was small and stooped, his face covered by a hood.
He looked solid and real, and he was right in front of her. For a moment, Isabel just stared, not wanting to speak.
The figure spoke first: "Isabel." The voice was male and vaguely familiar.
"Yes," she said, keeping her voice firm only with effort.
"Isabel," the figure repeated, lifting its head. Slowly, he pulled away the hood, revealing a decayed face… gray and sick… rotting.
A scream escaped her lips as she stood, transfixed, by the horror in front of her.
Suddenly Isabel understood everything. She only hoped she had time to warn the others. Foolishly, she had walked into this, but they still had a chance. "Max!" she screamed as loudly as she could, turning to run.
Something grabbed her from behind. An invisible hand held her for a moment and then pulled her back away from the door and the stairs.
She tried to scream again, but found that her wind was gone. She heard the door slam, behind her. It was heavy and would drown out any further sounds she made.
"Isabel, you only just got here. I insist you stay a while," the voice behind her said.
13
The first scream jolted Kyle awake.
"Max!" he heard. The voice was dim, and sounded like it was coming from downstairs.
Isabel, his mind roared as he began climbing to his feet. He immediately saw that the door to her room was half open. He had a feeling that she was not inside, but he stepped through quickly to make sure. Seconds later, he had checked the bathroom and the walk-in closet. Nothing. That made sense… the scream sounded like it had come from far away.
From downstairs, he realized.
Kyle started moving. He had to get the others. Since no one else had come out of their rooms, he realized he had been the only one to hear her scream. The others couldn't hear through the heavy doors. His sleeping in the hallway had given Isabel a chance. He wouldn't blow it.
Running down the hallway, he stopped and banged his fists on Max and Liz's door, then on Michael and Maria's.
"It's Isabel! She's in trouble, I think she's downstairs!" he
called out. Then he didn't wait another second. He took the stairs two at a time, thankful for his football training and his naturally good balance. He jumped the last five feet to the floor, calling, "Isabel!" at the top of his voice. For a moment he indulged in the hope that she had wandered downstairs to get something to eat and had gotten frightened. But she had screamed, and he knew Isabel wouldn't scream because she heard a noise or saw a cat. Something was wrong.
Kyle called out for her again. Though he was worried about Isabel, he felt the focus and concentration he had on the football field come to him. Even in the high-pressure games, Kyle had always kept his cool. Now, he was grateful for whatever his dad had passed on to him that let him keep his head.
He was trying to decide where to search first when he heard a squeak. He saw a doorway hanging slightly open near the pantry. Throwing the door open, he looked down an old staircase, into what he guessed was the basement.
He raced down the stairs, guessing that Isabel had come this way because the lights were on both in the basement and in the stairwell itself.
Maybe she just got locked in down there somewhere, he thought. Maybe they would be able to laugh about this in a few minutes, when he got her out. It was a possibility, but not a good one, because it didn't explain the scream.
Isabel would call out if she were trapped, but she had screamed.
His feet hit the basement floor, and he heard the door at the top of the stairs slam shut behind him. He ignored it.
"Isabel, are you here?" he called out, racing around the
basement, dodging furniture as he went.
"Kyle," he heard, but the sound was remote. Then he saw another open door with another well-lit staircase. He was sure that Isabel was down there. With any luck, she had just locked herself into a room in a sub-basement. He reminded himself to prop open any doors so the same thing didn't happen to him.
Kyle headed down the stairs and saw they were cut out of the bedrock. At the bottom of the stairs was a small landing, and a closed door. "Isabel?" he called out.
The reply was immediate and so clear that it surprised him. "Kyle, run! Stay away from him. Get the others and get out of here!"
She sounded scared, desperate. It must be the Special Unit, he thought. It was the only thing he could imagine evoking that kind of response from her.
"Noooo!" he heard Isabel scream, and he rushed for the door and yanked it open, surprised that it opened easily in his hand.
Game on, he thought as he raced into the room. Maybe he could rush whoever was there and catch them off guard. He saw two people at the end of the hallway. One was Isabel. She was just standing there. She looked scared, but unhurt. "Kyle, stop!" she yelled.
He came to a stop just a few steps away from Isabel and…
A thing.
No, he realized, it was a hunched-over… person, but there was something wrong…
"Kyle, get out," Isabel said, and her voice immediately drew his attention back to her. She was very still, as if she couldn't move.
"No, please stay," the thing said. Its voice was male, but it didn't look human. Correction: It looked like a human who had lived hard, and then died a while ago.
He took a step toward Isabel and said, "Come on, we're getting you out of here."
"You aren't going anywhere," the stranger said.
"Let him go, he has nothing to do with this," Isabel said.
"Step away from her, creep," he said, wondering how the figure could even be alive.
Then he realized that maybe it wasn't. Either way, he and Isabel were getting out of here now.