Part 4 (2/2)
”Well, now.” Julie tried to sound glib. ”I think maybe we should be moving on. Don't you?”
The group voiced agreement and continued forward, keeping a wary eye on the chandelier and going out of their way to avoid walking directly under it.
They arrived at the stairway. It was ma.s.sive, sweeping up and above their heads. They stood a moment, looking in awe. Finally, Julie asked the inevitable. ”Okay, troops ... who's going first?” Everyone exchanged glances, but no one answered. Philip looked over his shoulder and smiled mischievously. ”Becka?
Scott? This is your guys' department, right?” There were a couple of nervous snickers. Philip kept looking at them, waiting for an answer. ”Well?”
Scott finally stepped forward, doing one of his hokey super-hero imitations. ”You're right, earthling. Step aside. This is no job for mere mortals.” The group chuckled as Philip happily obliged.
Becka was a little more reluctant, but she also moved forward to join her brother. She hated it when he played Mr.
Macho - especially when it involved her life (or death). ”What about your head?” she whispered.
”Hey - ” he forced another smile - ”we're the good guys, remember?”
”Scotty - ”
”Come on.” He motioned for her. ”Let's show your friends some ol'-fas.h.i.+oned ghostbustin'.”
”Scotty ...”
Without a word, he started for the stairs. Becka stared after him a moment, then gave a heavy sigh and followed.
The banister was made of dark wood with intricately carved designs. Elaborate stained-gla.s.s windows towered to the right, along with rich curtains trimmed in gold braid. The group had only traveled three or four steps before they noticed the breeze.
It was faint at first but seemed to increase with every step they took.
To relieve the tension, someone began whistling the theme from The Twilight Zone. ”Knock it off,” Julie ordered. They did.
”Philip ...” Krissi was somewhere in the back whining again.
”Philip, I'm cold.”
But instead of answering her, Philip said, ”Listen! Do you hear that?”
It was a low whistling, the same one they'd heard from the chimney the day before. As the wind grew stronger, the sound grew louder. Becka threw a nervous glance at Scott. He was squinting and grimacing, trying his best to hold back what appeared to be intolerable pain. Beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. ”Scott,” she whispered, ”Scott, are you okay?”
”We've beaten these things before,” he answered. ”If we've got the faith, there's no reason we can't beat them now.” Becka had no answer. He was right - but something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
They were halfway up the stairway. The breeze increased.
The whistling grew louder, its low drone sounding more and more human.
”I'm so cold.” Krissi s.h.i.+vered. ”Isn't anybody cold?”
”It's just your nerves,” Julie said.
Philip shook his head. ”I don't think so.”
”Me neither,” Ryan said. ”Check it out.” He held the flashlight up to his mouth and blew. They could all see his breath.
”Let's go back!” Krissi shuddered. ”We've seen enough.”
”We're practically there,” Philip insisted. ”Let's go on.” Becka and Scott resumed the climb. The wind blew harder, tugging at their clothes and hair. Becka looked back to her brother.
He was also s.h.i.+vering. Violently. But it wasn't from the cold; she knew that. It was from something else. Maybe the pain. She leaned over to him. ”Scotty, we don't have to go any further if - ”
”Be quiet,” he hissed through gritted teeth.
She pulled back a little surprised. ”What?”
”The Bible says we've got authority, so we've got authority. If you don't have the faith, fine. But don't pull me down with you.” Becka could only stare. This wasn't like him. Not at all.
The eerie droning grew louder, sounding more and more like a m.u.f.fled cry - as if someone was trying to scream but was being smothered.
At last they reached the landing, Becka and Scott first, followed by the others. They stood silently on top. To their right was a dust-covered window; to the left was the hallway. All eyes moved down the hall to the last door, the one they had seen on the videotape.
The cry broke into a shriek - a bloodcurdling, heart-stopping shriek. Long and continuous.
”Let's get out of here!” someone shouted.
They turned to race back down the stairs when, suddenly, the door at the end of the hall flew open, cras.h.i.+ng loudly into the wall. The group froze. But it wasn't the wind that had thrown open the door. It was a shadow. A dark shadowy creature, looking very much like the little girl. It exploded out of the room and flew down the hall at them.
Krissi screamed. Others joined in as they scrambled for the stairs. Everyone but Scott. Instead of running, Scott spun around to confront the shadow. From past experiences, he knew what to do. He raised his hand and, despite the throbbing in his head, he shouted, ”In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, I command you to - ”
He said no more. The shadow smashed into him, directly into the center of his chest. He gasped and reeled backward until he hit the wall beside the window and slowly slid to the floor.
”Scotty!” Becka raced to him.
Others stood staring, dumbfounded.
”Scotty!” Becka dropped to his side. ”Scotty, are you all right?” The shadow girl was gone, but the wind was still shrieking, and she had to shout to be heard. ”Scotty!” His eyes fluttered, then opened. He looked dazed and confused. ”What ... what happened?”
That's what Becka wanted to know. She brushed the hair out of his eyes, searching his face for clues. She reached for his arm to help him up. ”Come on, let's get you out of - ” He looked down at his chest, and suddenly his eyes widened in horror. ”Get them off!” he shouted. He started slapping and hitting his chest. ”Get them off!”
”What?”
”Get them off!”
”Get what off?”
”The flies!” He began to writhe and kick, all the time beating and slapping at his chest. ”Get them off! Get them off!” Becka was at a loss. ”Scotty, there are no - ”
”Get them off!” He was screaming. ”Get them off!”
”Scotty!”
<script>