Marietta sighed impatiently. “Jeez, Kenny. That’s Spaulding’s ghost neighbor. We told you about him, remember?”
“No offense, Mr. R.,” Spaulding said cautiously, “but maybe you should stay home. We can’t take any chances on having you turn on us all of a sudden.”
Mr. Radzinsky sniffed and flicked a bit of ghost lint off his bathrobe. “They took me by surprise. Now that I know what to expect, it won’t happen again.” He folded his arms and looked down his nose at Spaulding. “Anyway, I am afraid I must insist on accompanying you. You’re in much more danger than I realized before, and I’ve found I feel rather responsible for you.”
Spaulding felt a sudden tightness in this throat. Mr. Radzinsky might be kind of a jerk . . . and dead . . . and crazy . . . but sometimes he could surprise you.
“Okay, Mr. R,” he said, taking a deep breath and giving the ghost a nod. “If you say you’re okay, I trust you. And . . . I’m glad you’re coming.”
Mr. Radzinsky gave the lapels of his bathrobe a tug. “I should think you would be! I’ll be a great help, obviously.”
Spaulding just grinned. Of course Mr. R would try to play it cool—but Spaulding saw a bright pink tinge creep into the green glow of the ghost’s sunken cheeks.
Von Slecht Manor stood at the edge of town behind a tall, wrought-iron gate. In the old days when the mining business was booming, the family had been one of the richest in the county, possibly even the whole state, and the manor was still the biggest and fanciest house in Thedgeroot. Not too far away, just on the other side of a wooded hill, the factory smokestacks were faintly visible against the black sky.
Kenny and Lucy huddled down in the shrubbery by the gate while Spaulding and Marietta set off toward the house. Mr. Radzinsky had gone to track down David Boa.
Spaulding and Marietta stayed in the shadow of the tall evergreen hedge bordering the graveled drive. The vast bulk of the mansion glimmered faintly in the moonlight, its windows dark except for one light burning in a downstairs window.
“If we’re lucky, that means he’s still up working and Griselda’s alone,” Spaulding said. “Come on, let’s look for a way in.”
Spaulding took a step forward, but Marietta grabbed his sleeve. “Wait.”
He waited.
She scowled at the ground, gnawing her bottom lip. Finally she burst out, “I’m sorry. You know, about before.”
Spaulding stared at her. Then he shrugged. “Fine. Sure.” He moved to walk away.
Marietta jumped in front of him, glaring. “Hang on! That’s it? That’s how you accept my apology?”
He folded his arms and glared back. “I guess I don’t accept it, actually. Maybe ‘sorry’ doesn’t really cut it.” He skirted around her and stalked off again.
“Hey! That’s not fair!” she whisper-yelled behind him. “When people apologize, you accept. That’s how it works!”
“Drop it, Marietta,” he hissed over his shoulder. “Is now really the best time for this? We’re kind of in the middle of something, if you haven’t noticed.”
She paused. Then she ducked her head. “You’re right. So you’re willing to let it go for now?”
“Sure.”
“Okay.” She took a deep breath and gave a little nod. “Cool.”
They started walking again, Marietta hurrying ahead.
“Yep. Cool,” Spaulding muttered at her back. “I’m willing to just forget about you totally betraying me. No problem.”
Marietta whirled around and stabbed a finger at him. “I knew it! I knew you were still mad.” She stomped back and put her hands on her hips. “Look, I know it was awful that I told Katrina. And I’m really, really sorry. But how can I fix it now? I can’t untell her.”
He sighed. “I know. There’s nothing you can do now.” After a moment, he took a deep breath and gave her a small smile. “I guess it’ll be good enough to know you’re sorry.”
She nodded, an uneasy wrinkle still creasing her forehead as she turned away.
At the side of the house, a small servants’ entrance was half-hidden in a mass of ivy. Spaulding jiggled the door handle, but it didn’t budge.
“Duh, Spaulding, obviously the villain keeps his house locked.” Marietta elbowed him aside and pointed out a keypad beside the door, smiling rather smugly. “Fortunately, I took the liberty of reading my dad’s security files. Mr. Von Slecht’s password for absolutely everything is Griselda. Dad’s told him it’s a huge security risk, but he won’t listen, so I guess this serves him right.”
She punched the code into the keypad. A light above the doorknob flashed green, and the lock clicked softly. She opened the door, and they stepped into Von Slecht Manor.
Spaulding tried to pull the door shut behind him, but something blocked it.
There was an irritated sss! from floor-level. He looked down to see David’s blunt snout pinched in the door. The snake shoved his way in, Mr. Radzinsky floating close behind.
“Greetings, all!” the ghost trilled, drifting carelessly through Spaulding’s body. “We meet again, ho ho!”
Spaulding rubbed at the goose bumps on his arms, scowling at the ghost’s back. Mr. R. seemed practically invigorated. It was like he thought they were all out on a nice picnic instead of a desperate mission to save kidnapping victims. Still, he made a good sidekick—he didn’t have to worry about getting caught. He led the way, scouting ahead to make sure there was no one around.
Spaulding and Marietta followed through the kitchen and down a long hallway to a marble-floored foyer. Several closed doors led off the foyer, and a sliver of light glowed around one.
Mr. Radzinsky thrust his head through the door of the lighted room. He pulled back quickly and hissed to Spaulding and Marietta, “Von Slecht’s in there working. He’s alone.”
The ghost led the way up the grand staircase. Upstairs, he floated down the hall, sticking his head through each door in turn. At the last one on the right, he pulled his head back and waved them over.
“She’s sleeping,” he whispered.
As quietly as he could, Spaulding opened the door.
The master bedroom was, at first glance, a perfectly normal room. It kind of looked like a crazy French king should live in it, but still, it was basically normal.
Spaulding took a cautious step closer. Griselda’s eyes were open, but she didn’t move.
Marietta covered her mouth, horrified. “She’s dead!”
Griselda sat up.
Spaulding sighed. “But, as usual, not dead-dead. Nobody around here ever is.”
He picked up an unlabeled pill bottle from the bedside table. He shook out a pill and examined it. It left a familiar red powder on his fingertips.
Marietta put her hands on her hips. “You know, now Mr. Von Slecht is starting to bug me. What kind of person would marry somebody undead?” She eyed Griselda, who stared back vacantly, her full red lips parted slightly. “She’s so . . . boring.”
“Isn’t she lovely, though?” Mr. Radzinsky exclaimed.
Marietta scowled at him.
“Maybe he loved her before she died, and he couldn’t let her go.” Spaulding nerved himself up for a second before reaching out to touch the dead woman’s arm. To his relief, it felt pretty much like a normal arm, except very cold and firm. “At least we won’t have any trouble getting her to cooperate. Come along now, ma’am.”
Griselda rose from her freezer-bed and stood beside him awaiting instruction. Marietta pursed her lips, disgusted.
“Mr. R., will you make sure it’s safe to go back out?” Spaulding asked.
The ghost nodded and disappeared, returning a few seconds later to report that Von Slecht was still in his study. They hurried quietly into the hall. There was no worry about Griselda making any noise; she drifted along as silent as a dandelion seed.
Downstairs, Marietta raced ahead to the front door, with Spaulding only a few steps behind. This was amazing—their plan was going perfectly! Von Slecht would be stunned when he rea
lized they weren’t just a bunch of dumb kids he could push around.
Spaulding gave Griselda’s hand a tug, hurrying her out onto the porch—
And an ear-splitting siren shattered the quiet night.
Spaulding and Marietta clapped their hands over their ears and stared at each other in horror. Somehow, Griselda had set off an alarm.
We’re dead, Marietta mouthed to Spaulding, the words inaudible under the clamor.
Spaulding couldn’t move. It was over. Von Slecht would be out of his study in a heartbeat, and he’d kill Aunt Gwen, and—
Mr. Radzinsky leaned in front of him and looked into his eyes. “You don’t have time to be afraid,” he said quietly. “Run!”
Across the foyer, Von Slecht burst out of his study and took in the scene with a look of dawning fury. He pointed at Spaulding, his finger trembling with rage. “Unhand my wife.”
At last, Spaulding pulled himself together. He ran for it, dragging Griselda along behind. She couldn’t move quickly, but Marietta grabbed her other hand, and between the two of them, they urged her into a speedier shamble.
Von Slecht’s footfalls pounded after them, but he didn’t seem to be used to running. Even at Griselda’s pace, they were leaving him behind.
“Go! Go!” Mr. Radzinsky floated in front of them, looking back. “You’re getting away! He’s turned aside—he’s gone into—into—oh, dear.”
“What?” Spaulding risked a look back. “Where’s he gone?”
There was no sign of Von Slecht. Then a blinding light stabbed through the dark, lighting up an enormous swath of the driveway. An engine roared to life. Headlights jerked into motion.
“We can’t outrun him if he’s in a car!” Marietta cried.
Up ahead, Kenny and Lucy had gotten the bikes out of the bushes and were waiting at the end of the driveway. “What’s going on? What’s that noise?” Kenny yelled as they ran up.
“There was an alarm rigged to sound if Griselda left the house,” Spaulding panted. “He’s behind us in his car.”
“Let’s cut through the fields, then!” Lucy said. She was already on her bike, holding the handlebars of Spaulding’s with her free hand. “He can’t drive out there. It’s way too marshy for a truck, but I know a path we can take the bikes on.”
“But how do we take Griselda on our bikes?” Marietta asked.
Spaulding looked back. The headlights were getting closer, fast. “Forget the bikes—he’ll have to take the road or else follow on foot, so speed shouldn’t matter as much.”
They dropped the bikes and dove off the side of the road into the tall grass.
Seconds later, Von Slecht came roaring down the driveway. The headlights fell on the abandoned bikes in the road. The vehicle screeched to a halt. The roar of the engine fell to a growl.
Spaulding peered through the weeds.
A truck idled in the road. Its tires were as tall as a regular car. A row of high-powered lights topped the cab. The windows were tinted pure black, so the driver was invisible. But Spaulding knew Von Slecht was in there, his watery eyes scanning the darkness for the slightest movement.
Spaulding held his breath, hoping he wouldn’t somehow draw Von Slecht’s gaze by staring so hard.
Finally, in a spray of gravel, the truck roared away. There was an awful crunching and popping sound like snapping bones as it went—Von Slecht had run over the bikes.
Kenny jumped to his feet. “Let’s go!”
They started out across the field.
Thrashing through the long grass was worse than Spaulding had expected. The thick, wet blades tangled around their legs. They kept falling over hidden rocks and stepping into holes. Spaulding gritted his teeth, expecting to snap an ankle any second. Griselda wasn’t slowing them down anymore—no one could move fast.
The truck’s engine had been getting fainter, but suddenly it gave a throaty roar.
Spaulding looked back and almost let out a sob. They’d hardly covered any ground at all. And Von Slecht must have suspected he was going the wrong way, because the truck had turned around.
The headlights swept across the field. Four kids, one dead woman, and one ghost were pinned in light as bright as day. The truck lunged forward—straight toward them.
“He’s driving right across the field!” Spaulding tried to move faster. He yanked on Griselda’s cold hand.
Marietta just stood, staring at the giant vehicle. “We can’t outrun him.”
Spaulding tried to think, but he felt stunned by the blinding lights. Even Mr. Radzinsky was silent.
Only Kenny kept running. “Come on, come on! You can’t give—aaaagh!”
He had vanished mid-sentence.
“What on earth—” Spaulding edged toward where Kenny had disappeared. “Kenny?”
“Oww.” Kenny’s voice sounded nearby but muffled. “Why didn’t we bring a flashlight?” he groaned.
Spaulding dug into his backpack. “I always bring a flashlight.”
“I fell into some kind of pit,” Kenny called.
Marietta gasped. “A mine shaft! They’re all over the place out here.”
Spaulding swept his flashlight beam around until he spotted a black pit hidden in the grass a few yards away. He edged up to the brink and peered down. Kenny’s pale face gazed up at him from perhaps fifteen feet below.
“You gotta lower a rope or something,” Kenny said.
Spaulding shook his head. “Nope,” he said as Von Slecht’s truck roared again. “Get out of the way—we’re coming down there!”
Getting into the pit was easy enough. One side of the hole was a slope of loose dirt and gravel where the roof of the mine had caved in, and they half-walked, half-slid down. Ahead of them, the tunnel was intact. It slanted downward, deeper into the earth.
Still, the darkness was practically inviting compared to the roaring of the truck, which was so loud Spaulding figured Von Slecht must be almost overhead now. They hurried a few yards down the tunnel until the sound was muffled.
“Can’t we just hide here until he leaves?” Lucy whispered.
Spaulding shook his head. “It won’t take him long to figure out where we went. Our only chance is to keep going.”
“But we’ll get lost,” Kenny moaned. “This could go on for miles and miles and connect to other tunnels, and there could be dead guys down here and stuff.”
Marietta snapped her fingers. “My map!” She dug in her pocket and pulled out a paper folded into a small, dirty square. She’d clearly been carrying it for a while. “It’s not completely accurate, but it ought to give us some idea of where we are.”
She unfolded it and they all leaned in to see. Marietta traced her finger along a line that went past the field where Von Slecht’s house now stood. “That looks like about the area we’re in—somewhere in this small tunnel off the main shaft. You’re lucky you fell into this little tunnel, Kenny. The main shaft probably goes down hundreds of feet.” She made a long, whistling, falling sound, ending in a juicy splat.
Kenny glared. “Thank you for that, Marietta. That’s very nice to think about right now.”
“I’m only trying to look at the bright side!” she protested, widening her eyes. “Anyway, let’s keep going.” She tapped the map again. “We need to find another tunnel up to the surface. Watch where you step, though. Sometimes they’d dig shafts straight down to look for new veins, and then they’d put planks over the top to walk on. Only by now, the planks will be too rotten to hold weight. So if your footsteps sound hollow—”
“I’d never have believed it, Marietta,” Kenny interrupted, smirking. “Turns out you’re a bigger nerd than Spaulding. You’re, like, a mining nerd. I didn’t even know there was such a thing.”
“I am not!” she huffed. “It’s not nerdy to know about cool stuff like exploring mines! I shouldn’t even warn you about the ant traps. That’d serve you right.”
Kenny froze midstep. “What the heck are ant traps?” he demanded.
“Tha
t’s when a vertical shaft collapses into a funnel. It just looks like a little sunken place, but if you put weight on it, it’ll give way, and—” She gave another cheery splat.
“Okay, that is it.” Kenny folded his arms. “I’m not going down a tunnel full of death traps just hoping some antique map keeps me alive and unlost. No way.”
“Now, now,” Mr. Radzinsky said kindly. “You forget, I can pop up to the surface anytime and see where we are. I won’t let you get lost.”
Kenny muttered something about Mr. Radzinsky not being able to prevent them from falling into hidden deadly pits of doom, but there wasn’t any choice except to go on.
Slowly, they went in deeper. The floor was lumpy and uneven; the air frigid and damp. Mr. Radzinsky’s glow cast odd, lurching shadows, and Spaulding kept thinking he saw things moving out of the corner of his eye. Marietta stopped frequently to check the map, but it didn’t seem to be particularly accurate, and they couldn’t be sure how far they’d gone.
Eventually, they came to a fork in the tunnel. Everyone stopped and looked at Marietta.
She dragged in a deep breath. “Okay, I’m pretty sure we want to go right. It looks like it goes up to the surface. Left just seems to go deeper into the mine.”
Mr. Radzinsky floated down the left-hand tunnel until he disappeared around a corner. He reappeared quickly. “Hopefully you’re right,” he said brightly. “That way is caved in.”
They turned right. The new tunnel sloped up quickly, and a breeze promised fresh air close ahead. After a quick scramble over some loose dirt and rocks that were heaped at the tunnel mouth, they found themselves back on the surface.
Spaulding gasped in a mouthful of air. Pushing past the others, he staggered forward without a thought except putting distance between himself and the mine. But he’d only gone a step when something slammed into him from behind and knocked him to the ground.
He rolled over, dazed, as Marietta scrambled to her feet. “Excuse you, Marietta!” he puffed.
The Haunted Serpent Page 12