I couldn’t quite pinpoint the problem. But there was a vague unease tickling at me.
Something inside the house was … wrong. But I shrugged it off.
“Okay,” I said, squeezing Sally’s hand. “Back to bed.”
At that instant a bolt of lightning crashed so close it lit up the whole downstairs.
I stared in shock.
“No,” I cried. “No!”
And then I dropped Sally’s hand and was flying down the stairs.
13
As I reached the bottom of the stairs, a gust of wind blasted me backwards. I staggered, soaked to the skin immediately.
I reached for a lamp and turned the switch. Nothing.
Another flash of lightning.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. Every window stood wide open.
The storm was pouring inside. Rain lashed at the antiques Mom was always warning me about.
I could imagine her face when she saw what the water had done to all this fancy furniture that didn’t belong to us.
But I couldn’t imagine telling her a ghost did this just to get me in trouble.
Still, I hesitated. I was shy of the windows in this house. I kept remembering how the window in my bedroom nearly came down on my neck like a guillotine. Maybe it was silly but I always thought the window was disappointed it had missed.
The house was trying to trick me again.
I was scared but the idea made me mad. This creepy old place kept trying to get me in trouble, and now it was fixing things so I’d get blamed for ruining all the furniture!
Over my dead body.
With the hard rain stinging my face, I ran to the nearest window and grabbed hold, pulling down with all my might.
It wouldn’t budge. The rain pelted me in buckets as I tugged, banged, and strained.
Something warned me.
Maybe a slight vibration in the window frame. I jumped backwards.
The window crashed down, shaking the wall and knocking a lamp to the floor.
I shuddered—a close call.
Then I ran to the next window. The wet curtain flapped around my face. Yuck! I shied away and it slithered around my neck.
I tried to jerk my head free but the silky wet cloth clung tighter, squeezing my throat.
I clawed at it frantically.
The ends whipped at my face in the wind.
I was choking!
I worked two fingers under the cloth and pried it away from my throat.
The wind slacked off briefly. Working fast, I loosened its grip and slipped my head out from under.
I slumped against the wall, the breath wheezing through my bruised throat.
That window could just stay open for the time being.
But no, I thought. I wouldn’t give up that easily. Spooked by a curtain, how silly could you get!
More determined than ever, I gripped the top of the window frame and pulled with all my might. It stayed stuck, rain splattering me in the face, blinding me.
I hung with my full weight and banged on the frame. It wouldn’t budge.
Finally, defeated, I gave up.
And the window shot down so suddenly I fell back onto the mouse-colored rug my mother liked so much. It squelched under me. That valuable, ugly old thing was wet as a sponge.
Lightning flashed again.
I ground my teeth and ran to the next window.
But this time just as I touched the window frame there was a hideous scream.
A piercing shriek of fury.
It came from the top of the stairs. Where I’d left Sally.
As I whipped around in the darkness there was a long, mad screech. Something big flew down the stairs, screaming my name.
It was headed right for me.
14
I heard it stumble at the bottom of the stairs. There was a harsh growl of pain.
I pressed myself against the open window, trying to see. Rain dribbled down my neck.
It got up. And stumbled again, like it couldn’t see in the dark.
That was strange. Why would a ghost mind the dark?
I heard it scuttling around on the floor like a bug with a broken back.
Then it spoke, much closer than I expected.
“Jason! How could you!”
“Katie?” I was so relieved I started to laugh. “Is that you?”
“Oh, you think this is funny, do you? You’re sick, you know that?”
There was another flash like a camera strobe and I could see how it looked to Katie in the cold blue light, with all the windows open, the rain blowing in. And me, who might be opening a window instead of closing it.
She darted toward a window.
“No!” I shouted.
Not that she’d listen to me.
Lightning jolted again and I saw Katie grasping the top of the window, pulling with all her strength, her head bowed under the open frame, her neck—
Springing toward her in the dark, I yelled at her to get back, knowing she was too stubborn and mad to listen to me.
It took forever to cross the room—I kept bumping into things, as if the house didn’t want me to get to Katie.
In the dimness between flashes of lightning I saw the top of the window give a little shiver.
I was too far away to save her.
I threw myself through the air.
Slamming into Katie sideways, I shoved her out of the way just as the window crashed down.
It slammed shut so hard, the whole house shook.
I pushed myself up off the floor and took a deep breath. Katie didn’t move.
“Wow,” she said softly, her voice small. “That was close.”
“I tried to tell you,” I said. “This is a dangerous place.”
A sudden gust of wind blew rain over us both. But if I thought Katie was going to be grateful that I’d saved her life, I was wrong.
“How could you!” she said through clenched teeth. “This will get me in trouble for sure. Your mother told me about all the antiques in this place. They’ll be ruined!”
She groped her way toward the last window in the room. I ran to get in front of her.
“Let me do it,” I pleaded. “They’re all stuck. But I can tell when they’re about to let go. Stand back!”
I flung myself at the window and pulled. As it came crashing down I stumbled and fell backwards
