around. The smile still on her lips, Isabel got ready to
quickly peek back into the room, when her ears picked up another sound.
'Isabel…,' a voice said, from the direction of the staircase. The sound of her own name jolted her, much more than the laughter of a girl who had been gone from the earth for more than sixty years.
She also realized that at the exact moment that someone spoke her name, the laughter behind her stopped, as if the voice had startled Sarah as well.
'Isabel,' the voice repeated.
'Yes?' Isabel called, starting out the door.
It was probably Max or one of the others looking for her. The voice sounded familiar, but it was hard to be sure. She walked quickly to the balcony.
Looking down, into the dim light provided by the dying fire, she saw a hunched figure dash into the shadows. For a second, she thought she was looking at Robert Benton, who was still alive and roaming the house. But for reasons she could not explain, she was certain that the last entry he had made in his journal upstairs was made on the last day of his life… more than ten years ago.
She glanced quickly back down the hallway, to Sarah's room, and then beyond, where her friends were sleeping. For a moment, she had an urge to go back and wake up Max and Michael, but she didn't want to waste time explaining what she was feeling, knowing they might not believe her… even if they somehow understood.
So she headed to the top of the stairs and then down to the main floor. Once there, she called out, 'Hello.' There was no response, then she called out softly, 'Robert? Robert Benton?' She felt silly for a moment, calling out to
someone long gone, but she knew what she felt.
Another flash of movement. She saw the same figure disappear into the rear of the house, and this time she saw him more clearly. He was wearing some type of a hood, and he looked small… or was it just that he was hunched over?
Well, Isabel was going to find out once and for all what was going on in this house. If the Bentons were somehow behind this, then there was a reason. Maybe they needed something from her. Maybe she could help them.
Isabel headed into the hallway, past the dining room. And then she caught another glimpse of the hooded figure as he disappeared into the kitchen. Isabel started running. She wouldn't let this go another second. Whatever was going on in this house, she would know right now.
When she reached the kitchen, she saw a door swing open and the figure dash into it. The door was next to a large walk-in pantry, and Isabel realized she and her friends had forgotten something important when they had quickly searched the house.
The basement, she thought. She reached for the door, opened it, and looked down into complete darkness. Well, that makes sense, she thought. If I'm chasing a ghost, he wouldn't need lights. She did, though, and hit the switch next to the wall. A bare bulb above her lit up, and she could see lights come on at the bottom of the stairs. The basement came into view as she descended. There were no surprises there. It was a large space full of indoor and outdoor furniture, as well as tools and other equipment. Unlike the rest of the inside of the house, the basement looked old. Time had not stopped here. Things had rusted and decayed.
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.
