The Haunting of Renegade X

by Chelsea M. Campbell

  The Haunting of Renegade X

  CHELSEA M. CAMPBELL

  1st edition published by Golden City Publishing, 2016

  Copyright © 2016 Chelsea M. Campbell

  www.chelseamcampbell.com

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

  Cover art by Chloë Tisdale.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Books by Chelsea M. Campbell

  Renegade X

  The Rise of Renegade X

  The Trials of Renegade X

  The Haunting of Renegade X

  The Betrayal of Renegade X

  Fire & Chasm

  Starlight

  Growing Up Dead

  Harper Madigan: Junior High Private Eye

  DEDICATION

  For everyone who loves these characters as much as I do.

  Chapter 1

  “WHO HAS A HALLOWEEN party the day before Halloween?” I ask Kat. We’re walking downtown, on our way to her dad’s office party. A party that Kat’s parents insisted she go to—since she’s doing so well at Vilmore and, like, going places or whatever—and that they specifically banned me from. Her dad actually banned me from all company events, after the incident at Homecoming a few weeks ago, but he went out of his way to remind her not to bring me to this one.

  “Lots of people,” Kat says. It’s cold out—the kind of cold that makes your nose hurt—and she pulls her coat tighter around her against a sharp gust of wind. “And my dad’s having the party tonight so his employees can take their kids trick-or-treating tomorrow.”

  “Or go to their friends’ parties.”

  Kat scowls at that. “You should come over.”

  I raise my eyebrows at her, because it’s not exactly the warmest invitation, what with her sort of glaring at me. “I thought you had a test in the morning.” It’s the reason why she has to go back to school tonight, and why her parents are driving her back there as soon as the party’s over. I doubt they’d be very happy about bringing me with them, but I could always take the train and meet her at her dorm.

  “I meant you should come over tomorrow night. We could still spend Halloween together.”

  I let out a deep breath. I don’t really know Kat’s friends—though I do know they all call her Katie and that it still weirds me out—and I kind of doubt that “spending Halloween together” would be just us. And the idea of going all the way over to her dorm, just so I can watch her share in-jokes with a bunch of people I don’t know, and then having to scramble to get back in time for school in the morning, doesn’t exactly sound that appealing. Besides, as much as I’d like to spend the night with her anyway—in spite of how little I might fit in with her friends and her new life at school—I have plans. “I’m going to Sarah’s tomorrow.” Something she already knows, which is why she was scowling at me.

  Kat sort of disapproves of my friendship with Sarah. Maybe more like a lot disapproves. Especially after Sarah went temporarily insane and tried to kill me.

  “You could come, too,” I tell her. “If you want.”

  Kat gives me this horrified look, as if I just asked her to go kick puppies with me or something. “That’s the last thing that I—” She stops walking—so suddenly that someone behind us almost runs into her—and wraps her arms around herself. When she speaks again, she keeps her voice low. “Come on, Damien. Let’s cross the street.”

  “Why? Is there—” I think at first that she’s avoiding someone, but before I can offer to zap them for her, I look up and see the Golden City Banking and Finances building. A shiver runs up my spine. “Oh.”

  “I haven’t been back here since, you know, that thing with Pete.”

  She means when my ex-best friend Pete took her captive, tied her up on the roof, and tried to force me to torture her. Calling it “that thing with Pete” is putting it lightly, and I can see why she hasn’t been back. Why neither of us have. I swallow. “It’s just a building.”

  Just my least favorite building in the whole world, possibly the universe. Because not only was Kat held hostage there, but I went plummeting to my death from the top of the ridiculously high roof. Twice. To say I don’t like heights would be an understatement, but the one thing I hate even more than heights is falling from them.

  She steps on a leaf on the pavement, flattening it with a crunch. “I know it’s stupid, but it creeps me out.”

  “It’s not stupid. If it was up to me, this thing would have been demolished months ago.”

  “So let’s cross the street.” She takes my hand.

  I don’t move. “I might really hate this building, Kat, but crossing the street to get away from it feels like... I don’t know, like letting it win. Besides, it wasn’t the building’s fault all that stuff happened. It was Pete.”

  “Still,” Kat says.

  “Pete was the problem, and he’s dead. So, there’s nothing to be afraid of.” Just some horrible, traumatizing memories is all.

  Kat looks up at the building, then back at me again, seeming pretty unconvinced. But then she sighs and says, “Okay, fine. We’ll walk past it. But if it, like, collapses on top of us or something, I’m blaming you. And don’t think I won’t be able to blame you if I’m dead, because I’ll totally haunt you.”

  “Won’t I be dead, too, in this scenario?”

  “You think ghosts can’t haunt other ghosts?” She rolls her eyes at me, then hurries forward as the walk light turns green.

  When we get to the Banking and Finances building, we both look up. My stomach drops as I relive falling from the top of this thing, and I kind of maybe wish I’d listened to her and just crossed the street.

  Beside me, Kat shudders. “Come on,” she says, speeding up. “I want to spend as little time here as possible.”

  “Go ahead. I’ll catch up in a minute.”

  She looks at me like I’m crazy, then shrugs and walks off, like she can’t get past this thing fast enough. I don’t blame her, and part of me wonders why I’m not doing the same thing. But if I can’t even stand here and look at this place, then it doesn’t just feel like it’s winning—it feels like Pete’s winning.

  And okay, maybe looking up at the roof made me want to throw up, and that’s probably never going to change. But here? It’s just the front of a building. Er, well, some bad stuff went down here, too, but not nearly as bad as what happened on the roof. This is a place of business. There are big glass doors, and I can see people sitting at their desks, typing away at their computers and answering phone calls. Someone in a suit comes out, carrying a briefcase. He holds the door open and gives a me a questioning look, but I shake my head, and he lets it go.

  Standing outside and facing it is one thing, but there’s no way I’m going inside.

  Kat’s waiting for me at the end of the block, picking up her feet and rubbing her arms in the cold.

  I turn to go.

  And that’s when I hear Pete’s voice. Hey, Damien. Been waiting for you, man—long time no see.

  I freeze. The voice sounds tinny, like it’s being broadcast through an old speaker. I glance around, my heart racing, even though...

  Even though Pe
te’s dead, and there’s no way I just heard that.

  There’s an ATM next to the front doors. It must have made a noise or something. Something that sounded like my ex-best friend who’s been dead for six months. My ex-best friend whose superpower was being able to broadcast signals, like to a radio or a TV. Or maybe even an ATM.

  My blood turns cold, and the hair on my arms stands up. Little sparks of lightning run along my back.

  Kat’s watching me, her eyebrows raised.

  I hurry to catch up with her. “Did you hear that?” I ask.

  “Hear what? Are you okay? Because you look kind of... not.”

  “I’m fine. I was just...”

  I was just thinking about Pete and then imagined I heard him talking to me in the same place where he died. But that’s all. No big deal.

  “I thought someone said my name. But I guess I was wrong.”

  Chapter 2

  “WELL?” AMELIA SAYS. “WHAT do you think?” She means the dress she’s wearing. It’s Halloween night, and with the rest of the family out trick-or-treating, I guess she didn’t have anyone else to ask.

  “I think I’m busy,” I tell her, not looking away from the TV screen, since me and Riley are in the middle of a particularly intense round of Villains vs. Heroes. We’re mostly killing time until we go over to Sarah’s for her party, but that doesn’t mean it’s not important that I kick his ass.

  “Can’t you pause?” Amelia asks, even though she knows about my strict no-pause policy. “I just need you to look over here for a second. I have to leave soon.”

  Riley glances over at her, then back at the screen. “You look fine.”

  Amelia lets out a squeak of outrage. “Fine?!”

  “Um.” Riley looks back and forth between her and the game. “I just meant Zach won’t care what you look like.”

  She gasps, then stomps in front of the TV.

  Now he’s done it.

  “Hey!” I lean to the side, trying to see around her, though it’s kind of pointless now, since Riley just lost.

  “Damien, you have to tell me the truth.” She gestures to the dress, which is bright purple and has puffy sleeves and frilly ruffles around the waist, like the designer thought what the skirt really needed was a tutu shoved on top of it.

  “Great job,” I tell her. “Scariest costume ever. You might as well clear a space for the trophy right now.”

  She glares at me. “It’s not supposed to be scary! And it’s not a costume.” She fidgets, tugging at the edges of her poofy sleeves. “I borrowed this from Tiffany. It’s her best dress.”

  “Seriously? Is it also, maybe, her only dress?”

  Amelia folds her arms. “Well, maybe it’s not her best one, but it was the only one that fit me. She had to wear it to a wedding last year. She was a bridesmaid.”

  “I think that went without saying.”

  “I can’t wear my pink one again.” She sighs and flops down on the couch between us, her dress making a lot of rustling noises. “I always wear it, and Zach’s already seen me in it a couple times.”

  “So?” Riley asks, setting his controller on the coffee table.

  “So, everyone will know that I only have the one dress because nothing else looks good on me.”

  I raise my eyebrows at her. “And you think that’s going to change their minds?”

  “Why did both Mom and Dad have to take Alex and Jess trick-or-treating? If Mom was here...” Amelia looks herself over and doesn’t finish that sentence, presumably because it’s obvious even Helen would have a hard time convincing her to wear that in public.

  “It’s not too late to put some zombie makeup on and tell everyone you were going for ‘terrifying’ on purpose.”

  She glances at the clock. “I’m supposed to meet Zach in ten minutes. I don’t have time to put on extra makeup or to change clothes.”

  “I think,” Riley says slowly, choosing his words carefully this time, “that Zach would understand being a couple minutes late. If you wanted to change first.”

  Amelia gapes at him. “I thought you said he wouldn’t care!”

  “He won’t!” Riley holds up his hands in defeat. “He probably won’t mind waiting for you, either. That’s all.”

  She gives him a skeptical look, kicking one leg against the couch.

  “You know, Amelia,” I tell her, “you’re right. You really don’t have time to change. Boys like girls who are punctual. And to make sure you get there on time, Perkins here will even give you a ride.”

  “I will?” He wrinkles his eyebrows. “I mean, of course I will. It’s getting dark out, and it’s not like we’re really doing anything.”

  “Well, some of us are losing at Villains vs. Heroes.”

  “I got distracted. That’s all.”

  “Uh-huh. So it’s settled. Amelia stays in that dress, and you drive us over to your house.”

  “Someone’s got to stay here and hand out candy,” Amelia says. “That’s you.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think so. I have a party to go to tonight, too, remember? And, anyway, there’s no way I’m missing Zach’s face when he sees you like that.”

  “Oh. My. God,” Amelia says when we get to Riley and Zach’s house. “What is that?”

  Zach’s standing in the doorway. He’s got some kind of half alien, half octopus costume on, complete with extra tentacles hanging at his sides. His face is covered in silver and blue face paint, and his hair—which is caked in silver hairspray to match his face—is sticking straight up.

  “It’s my costume.” Zach says that like it’s super obvious, which it is.

  “Oh. My. God.”

  “I’m Brogdon? The Third? You know, from Alien Star Raiders?” Zach’s voice gets more high-pitched the more questions he asks and the more Amelia just stares at him like they’ve never met before. “It’s my favorite video game. Well, my favorite online game, I mean.”

  “Maybe we should go inside,” Riley says. “It’s cold out.”

  I can’t tell if he’s saying that because we can see our breath, or if he just doesn’t want Amelia making a scene in possible view of the neighbors, not to mention any trick-or-treaters.

  Zach doesn’t move—he’s understandably too busy watching Amelia for signs of stroke or aneurysm, since her brain seems to have shorted out—but Riley pushes past him into the house. Me and Amelia follow him, so I guess her brain must be working at least a little bit.

  As soon as the door’s closed, she glares at Zach. “I can’t believe you!”

  “What?” He glances down at himself, then at her. “You said it was a costume party.”

  “No, I said we had to dress up.”

  “Right. In costumes.”

  “Dress up means you’re supposed to dress nice. Like, formal wear?”

  “Oh.” Zach blinks, taking that in. Then his eyebrows come together. “But if it’s not a costume party, why are you wearing that?”

  Amelia’s face turns red. “It’s not a costume!” She shoots me and Riley an accusing look, as if this is somehow our fault. She holds out her hand and uses her superpower to call up her pink dress, teleporting it from home. “I’m going to get changed. When I’m done, you’d better be dressed up. As in, not dressed as an alien.”

  “What? But I spent hours on this!” Zach’s mouth hangs open a little, and he glances over at us, silently begging for help. “I printed out a picture to make sure I got my face just right!”

  “Too bad. You should have thought of that before you misunderstood what dress up means.”

  “Okay, I... I guess I can...” Zach glances at his phone. “We’re going to be late, though. And I’ll have to shower, unless you think I can leave my hair like this.”

  Amelia wrinkles her nose at him. “No way. And shower fast. We’re leaving in ten minutes.”

  “Yeah. Okay. But—”

  She takes her dress and disappears into the bathroom, shutting the door in Zach’s face.

  “But how am I supposed
to shower if you’re in there?”

  “Use the one in Mom’s room,” Riley says.

  “Or,” I add, “you could, I don’t know, not throw away hours of face-paint work? Take a stand. Don’t be that guy who lets his girlfriend change him.”

  “I can hear you!” Amelia shouts, her voice muffled by the bathroom door.

  “If you really cared about him, you’d want what’s best for Zach!” I shout back.

  “What’s best for Zach is making his girlfriend happy! He’d better be getting in the shower right now if he knows what’s good for him!”

  Zach swallows. “Sorry, Damien. I have to go.” He hurries off to their mom’s room to do Amelia’s bidding.

  Riley’s phone chimes at almost the same time as mine. We both look at our screens. It’s a text from Sarah that reads, Running late. Don’t be here until 7:15. I’ll keep you posted. I love you.

  Another text immediately follows: Oops, forgot I was texting both of you. That last part was meant for Riley.

  Followed by another: Not that I don’t love you, too, Damien, but only as a friend.

  And one more: Okay, signing off. This party isn’t going to set up itself.

  Maybe not, but it would probably go a lot faster if she’d let us help. But when we offered—well, when Riley offered; technically all I said was that I’d be happy to eat some of the cupcakes, so she didn’t have as many to worry about—Sarah said she didn’t want anyone coming over until she was done setting up. She also said she’d have everything ready by six thirty, but I guess it’s taking her longer than she thought.

  It’s only a little after five, which means we have two hours left to kill.

  Riley turns on the TV, and we both flop down on the couch.

  “You want to watch a movie or something?” he asks, slowly flipping through the channels. “There are all these Halloween ones on, and— Oh! This one’s great. Have you seen it?”

  There’s a man in a business suit running through a dark alley. He keeps looking over his shoulder at whatever’s chasing him and then almost stumbling as he runs for his life.