“You know the rules.” Jamie’s voice cracked a little. “We can’t just go running around looking for them. Dad would flip out. We don’t even know where they are. We’d get lost.”
Hailey opened her mouth to retort, but Oscar waved his walkie-talkie at her. “That’s why we’ve got these, right?” Without waiting for a response, he held it up to his mouth. “Aunt Lidia? Is everyone okay?”
My heart pounded in my ears as we waited for a response. Ghosts aside, there were plenty of ways someone could get hurt in the tunnels. The last thing Dad needed was a broken leg or something. After a few seconds of silence, I pulled out my own walkie-talkie, cramming the paper back in my pocket. “Dad?” I said, trying to sound calm. “Mi Jin? Is anyone there?”
For a moment, there was nothing but a soft crackle. Then someone spoke, but it didn’t sound like Dad or anyone else on the crew. The voice was distant and echoey, like a soft whisper in a large hall. But the words were very clear.
“Help her.”
The four of us stood frozen, staring at the walkie-talkie. Then Hailey wrenched her arm out of Jamie’s grasp and sprinted into the tunnels.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
DEAD WOMAN WALKING
P2P WIKI
Entry: “Possession”
[Last edited by AntiSimon]
Possession refers to a ghost or spirit taking control of a person’s body, including motor and cognitive functions. To date, P2P has not recorded or reported such an event.
I raced after Jamie, Oscar right behind me. I could just make out Hailey’s curly brown ponytail as she whipped around a corner. Seconds later, Jamie stopped so abruptly, I slammed into him.
“Which way?” he said frantically. Rubbing my shoulder, I squinted in the dim light and realized we were at a fork in the tunnel. “Which way did she go?”
“I don’t know.” I took a deep breath. “Um, try your walkie-talkie again.”
Jamie fumbled with his walkie-talkie. “Hello? Jess, Mi Jin . . . anyone there?”
I swallowed hard, willing my pulse to slow down. Maybe I didn’t believe in ghosts, but between the Ouija board, the dark tunnels, and that creepy voice . . . Well, being a little freaked out was understandable.
After a few seconds of static-filled silence, Jamie let out a frustrated groan. “Nothing. Should we—”
THUD.
A cry of pain ripped through the air, and goose bumps broke out all over my arms. Without a word, the three of us raced down the path on the left, toward the noise. I heard shuffling sounds around the corner, and voices—one familiar voice in particular . . .
“Dad!”
“Look out!”
Jamie went flying through the air in front of me, landing hard on the dirt. I managed to skid to a halt right in front of the thing that had tripped him. When I realized it was Jess lying on the ground, a scream rose up in my throat. I leaped backward into Oscar just as Jess sat up with a sigh. “Cut!”
Relief flooded through me as my eyes adjusted. Roland lowered the camera and hurried over to help Jamie while Dad pulled a very irritated-looking Jess to her feet. Behind them, a huge sack lay on the ground in front of one of the trapdoor slides.
“What happened?” I asked. “We heard screaming—”
“Flour,” Roland interrupted, kicking the sack. “Or sugar, I’m not sure. Came shooting down the slide and knocked Jess over.”
I watched Jess angrily swipe dirt off her jeans. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, fine,” she muttered. “That was great footage, and now we can’t even use it.”
“Why not?”
“Because you three can’t be in the show,” Dad said with a sigh, and I winced. “You got in the shot when you came barreling in here. Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
Roland stared up at the trapdoor. “How long have you guys been wandering around, anyway? Did you do this?”
“We haven’t . . .” I hesitated, confused. “Do what?”
Nudging the sack with his toe, Roland glanced at Oscar. “This. As a joke. Because Jess could’ve been seriously hurt.”
Oscar’s eyes widened. “What? I didn’t—”
“We’ve been with Oscar the whole time,” I interrupted, glaring at Roland. “We were in the cell and there was a crash and someone screamed. Hailey ran off, and we all went after her, but we lost her, and—”
“You lost her?” Without waiting for a response, Jess whipped out her walkie-talkie. “Lidia? Sam? You there?”
Roland groaned, rubbing his forehead. “We lost the network VP’s daughter. Perfect.”
“Hello?” Mi Jin’s voice crackled through the walkie-talkie, and we fell silent.
“Mi Jin, do you have Hailey?” Jess said immediately.
“Um . . . yeah, she’s right here with me.” Everyone let out a collective breath, and Jamie’s shoulders slumped in relief. “But I can’t . . . I . . .”
Mi Jin’s voice was breathy and strange. “Are you okay?” Jess asked, brow crinkled. “Is Lidia with you? Mi Jin?” No response, just a long, crackly silence.
Jess lowered the walkie-talkie. “Okay, let’s find them. And we need to keep filming.” She held her hand out, and Roland handed her the camera. “Jack, can you take these guys back to the cell, please? Roland, come with me.”
Jamie shook his head. “But Hailey—”
“I’ll get her, and then the four of you are going back to the hotel,” Jess said shortly. “We can’t afford to throw away any more footage.” With that, she set off down the tunnel with Roland, speaking in hushed tones.
Dad turned to Jamie, who was rubbing his elbow. “Do you need the first-aid kit?”
Jamie shook his head. “I’m fine.”
Guilt burned in my chest as we followed Dad through the narrow tunnel. What if we’d ruined his first episode? Then again, no one could possibly expect us to just sit in the cell when people were screaming bloody murder and the walkie-talkies weren’t working . . .
“Help her!”
I stopped cold, staring at my walkie-talkie. Dad glanced at me over his shoulder. “Something wrong?”
“Didn’t you hear . . .” I paused, looking from Oscar to Jamie. They both stared at me blankly. “Um . . . never mind.”
We continued down the tunnel. Had I imagined the voice? Probably, I told myself. Crimptown was creepy, it was the middle of the night, we’d been playing Ouija . . .
There had to be a logical explanation. Just like there had to be an explanation for the sack of flour that had knocked Jess over, and Mi Jin’s strange, breathy voice. An explanation that did not involve the show’s so-called ghost.
I frowned as another thought occurred to me. Jess was pretty irritated that we’d messed up her footage of the flour sack. And Roland had been quick to accuse Oscar of setting it up. But maybe that was just a cover. Maybe this was all just part of them “making things entertaining.”
Or maybe I was trying too hard to pretend something genuinely supernatural wasn’t happening here.
“Jack?”
The four of us spun around. Mi Jin peered out from behind the bars of one of the cells, her eyes glassy. And behind her . . .
“Hailey!” Jamie hurried forward and pulled on the bars, then the latch. “It’s locked,” he said in disbelief, standing back to let Dad try. “Why is it locked?”
Dad frowned, squinting at the latch. “It’s not locked, just stuck,” he said, tugging on it. “Mi Jin, what’s going on? Why aren’t you with Lidia and Sam?”
Hailey stepped up to the bars, too, rubbing her eyes. “What happened?” Jamie said urgently, grabbing her hand through the bars. “How’d you end up in here?”
Mi Jin tilted her head, watching as Dad continued yanking at the rusty latch. “I’m not sure. Sam was trying to contact Sonja, I had the camera, Lidia went
to get . . . something . . .” She blinked, shaking her head. “It’s weird, I can’t remember anything after Lidia left.”
Dad asked question after question, the screechy sounds from his war with the latch drowning out every other word. Jamie stood pressed up against the bars, still gripping Hailey’s hand. It was eerie how dazed both girls were. Neither could remember how they’d ended up in the cell. I still wasn’t sure what to think about the voice on the walkie-talkie or the flour sack, but Mi Jin definitely wasn’t faking this. Her handheld camera hung forgotten at her side.
Quietly, I pulled the paper from my pocket and unfolded it. The bright red letters in Hailey’s increasingly messy print stood out beneath my handwriting.
KEEP HER AWAY FROM THE MEDIUM
13 Xs
H E L L O
Is this Sonja?—YES
How many spirits?—3
G A T H E R T H E W O M E N
F R E E T H E M—NO
Is Sonja here?—NO
Who is this?—L E E R
Third ghost here?—YES/NO
F R E E T H—(Leer & ghost #3 fighting?)
K E E P H E R A W A Y F R O M T H E M E D I U M
I frowned. Gather the women. Jess had been knocked over by a sack of flour. Mi Jin and Hailey were locked in a cell. And Lidia had apparently disappeared. So far, Crimptown didn’t seem to like us girls very much.
My neck tingled, and I spun around, staring down the tunnel. No one was there. Except . . .
Wiping my palms on my jeans, I took a step down the path, then another. Dad didn’t notice—he was too busy trying to get the latch to open. But Oscar grabbed my arm.
“What are you doing?” he whispered, and I pointed.
“Do you see that?”
Oscar glanced down the tunnel. “See what?”
“A light,” I said. “Well, not a light . . . it’s kind of a glow.” Ignoring the weird look he gave me, I took a few more steps. I opened my mouth to call out for Lidia, then closed it. Because this light wasn’t from a flashlight. It was soft blue, and it rippled like water.
“Kat,” Dad said, and the light vanished. I whirled around. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“No, I—I thought I saw a light down there,” I replied, feeling foolish. “It could be Lidia or Sam.”
“We’ll find them as soon as I get this latch open.” Dad turned back to the cell door. “Stay here.” The screeching resumed, and I waited a few seconds before I took a tentative step forward. Oscar shot me a questioning look, but I just shook my head. And when I took off, he didn’t say a word.
Well, score one for Oscar. At least he knew when to keep his mouth shut.
I crept down the path as fast as I could, hardly daring to breathe. Dad would kill me for sneaking off—if I was sneaking off. But I was just going to the end of this tunnel. I’d seen some sort of light, I was sure of it. Keeping my hand on the wall, I peered around the corner. The breath flew from my lungs.
A woman stood several yards down the path, surrounded by that bluish light—definitely not the same light coming from the dingy yellow bulbs that hung from the ceiling. Her hair floated in wisps around her head, and she was smiling a tiny smile. I recognized her from the portrait in my blog post.
Sonja Hillebrandt.
CHAPTER TWELVE
CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE FAKE KIND
Post: The Pirate Ghost of Crimptown
Comments: (6)
Anonymous: You poor, stupid girl. You have no idea what you’re getting into.
Proof. I’d said I needed proof to make me believe in ghosts, and here she was. But I still couldn’t believe my eyes.
I stood, paralyzed, as Sonja drew closer. Weren’t ghosts supposed to be transparent? Because she wasn’t—she looked as solid as me. And her clothes were . . . wrong. No old-fashioned dress like in the photo. She wore a sweater, and . . . were those jeans?
Sonja stopped a few feet from me and held out her hand.
It was like being enveloped in a cloud of static electricity. All the hairs on my arms and neck stood straight up, and my skin tingled. I blinked furiously, my vision suddenly blurry. When something moved in my pocket, I nearly screamed before remembering the Elapse.
Tearing my eyes off Sonja, I pulled out the compact camera. It was turning off and on, off and on, the lens protruding and retracting. My hands shook as I flipped it on. Proof. A photo. I needed to get a photo of Sonja.
Her face swam before my eyes. My head felt fuzzy, like my brain had turned to cotton. I held the viewfinder up to my eye and took a deep breath.
It’s dark, so you’ll need a wide aperture. Hold it steady, Kat, steady—if the camera shakes even a little bit, the picture will blur . . . Kat? Are you listening to me? Kat!
“Leave me alone,” I hissed. My mother’s voice faded, and dimly, I realized another voice was yelling in the distance.
My eyes slid in and out of focus, but I could just make out movement behind Sonja. Someone was running straight toward us from the other end of the tunnel—yelling, panicked. Sonja reached for me again, her hand just inches away. Gripping the camera, I fumbled with the dials, trying to get her into focus. I zoomed in too far, and the locket around her neck filled the screen. Locket? Locket. I’ve seen that locket before . . .
“Stop moving,” I whispered, dizziness causing me to sway. I had to get this photo. Actual proof.
Sonja’s fingers closed gently around my wrist, and I gasped at the static spark. Her hand was warm, solid, real. When I pressed the button, the flash filled the tunnel like lightning.
Sonja stumbled—ghosts stumble?—and yanked my arm hard, pulling me into a cell. I tripped, too, and my head slammed into the wall just as the cell door clanked shut behind me.
Spots of light danced in my vision. I fumbled for my camera—Sonja was right there on the other side of the bars, I could still get the shot. I squinted at the screen, confused.
WARNING! High Voltage
“What?” I mumbled, flipping the camera off and on. The message vanished, and I lifted the viewfinder to my eye. Through it, I saw Sonja on the other side of the bars. And next to her . . . a shape, an outline.
A boy.
Flash.
Sonja crumpled like a paper doll. Outline-boy made a motion as if to catch her, but his arms passed right through hers . . . except they didn’t.
I lowered my camera just as Sonja’s body hit the ground. But another outline—her outline—was still standing, gripping outline-boy’s arms. Like her spirit had just stepped out of her body. Pain throbbed where I’d hit my head, and I squeezed my eyes closed for a second. When I opened them, the ghosts were gone.
But Sonja’s body was still curled up on the ground.
Sam appeared and knelt next to her. “No, no, no . . . Are you okay? Can you hear me?” I realized he was the one who’d been yelling. I’d never heard Sam sound so panicked before.
“She fell,” I mumbled, but Sam was patting Sonja’s cheek and didn’t notice me. A low buzzing filled my ears, and when I blinked, everything doubled before slowly sliding back together. I stayed there, slumped against the wall of the cell, as a distant herd of footsteps grew louder and louder.
Roland arrived next. Kneeling down, he felt Sonja’s neck for a pulse, then checked her eyes. “She’s breathing.” Whipping the first-aid kit from his bag, Roland cast Sam an odd look. “Passed out. Did she get dizzy again?” he asked in a weirdly forced tone.
Sam nodded mutely. Roland’s mouth was a thin line as he rummaged through the kit.
I almost giggled at the absurdity of the whole scene. Ghosts don’t get dizzy, I told them, only I couldn’t say it out loud. My mouth was too dry.
Jess nearly dropped her camera when she saw Sonja, her face ashen beneath her freckles. “Oh God, not again!” Turning, she shoved the camera at Mi J
in before dropping down on her knees next to Sonja. Dad appeared behind Mi Jin, out of breath. “Is that . . .?”
Sonja, I told him. Look, Dad. A real ghost! She fell down.
Behind him, Jamie and Hailey came to a halt, staring as Roland held a small bottle under Sonja’s nose. But Oscar shoved past everyone and crouched down next to her, his eyes wide with fear.
She fell, I told them. Sonja fell. But no one heard. I still couldn’t seem to find my voice.
Sucking in a huge gasp, Sonja sat upright. But her face looked different; that wasn’t Sonja’s face . . .
“No . . .” I croaked, and Dad’s head jerked up.
“Kat!”
He yanked open the cell door and knelt at my side, feeling my forehead. I brushed his hand away, hotly aware of everyone staring at me. “I’m fine,” I said, although I felt anything but fine. “What about Sonja?”
Dad gazed at me, eyes filled with concern. “What, sweetie?”
“Sonja Hillebrandt.” I struggled to stand, the fog still clearing from my brain. “She fell. Is she . . . ?” I stopped, openmouthed.
Lidia stared up at me from where she sat on the floor, Roland’s hand on her shoulder. Her eyes were glassy, her hair even frizzier than usual . . . but it was her. Lidia in her jeans and sweater, the locket around her neck. Next to her, Sam watched me intently.
“I thought . . .” I paused, closing my eyes. I’d seen Sonja, I was sure of it. But considering everyone was looking at me as if they feared for my sanity, I’d apparently been the only one. Except—
“Mi Jin,” I said loudly, stepping out of the cell. “Hailey, what happened before you ended up in the cell? Did you see her?”
“See who?” Roland said, and Mi Jin frowned.
“I don’t know what happened,” she said. “I was filming Sam, and then I started feeling dizzy so I stepped away, and . . . and then I was in that cell with Hailey.”
Hailey nodded. “I heard Sam and Lidia talking, and I was trying to find them to see who screamed, but the same thing happened. I felt woozy, and . . .” She rubbed her arms. “Crackly.”
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