The Prank (Night Fall ™)

by Ashley Rae Harris

  “Sir? Mr. Morton? Are you OK?” Charlie jumped up to help him. “What is it?”

  Mr. Morton sat up so they could see his face. Jordan could see tears in his eyes. “Chelsea Knight,” he whispered.

  He took a deep breath. “A long time ago, when I was about your age, we used to pull pranks on each other. Nothing malicious—it was always just for fun. We’d egg someone’s house or put something stupid on their locker. Just kids playing around.

  “But one time, some of the kids wanted to mess with this one girl. I’m not sure why—I guess because she was kind of a nerd. She stuttered a little when she talked. She always looked really nervous. I never knew her that well. She was a little younger than me, very small and always alone. Some people said she’d barely talked since her father died.

  “Anyway, there was this girl Lizzie. She was really pretty. Fun too. Homecoming queen, a cheerleader. We were all kind of in love with her, I suppose.” A small, sad smile crossed Mr. Morton’s face.

  “Lizzie had it out for the nerdy girl, Chelsea. She thought Chelsea had ratted on her for smoking in the bathroom.”

  “Did she?” Jordan asked.

  Mr. Morton shook his head. “You could never be sure. Lizzie was always doing stuff like that, sneaking off to smoke or skipping class. And she had plenty of enemies—lots of girls she was hard on. Anyone could have ratted on her.

  “Anyway. Lizzie had the idea to invite Chelsea to hang out with us after school. Like we’d suddenly decided to become friends with her.”

  Jordan felt a twinge of empathy for Chelsea. She thought about how she’d felt when Briony had asked her to meet everyone at the Chowder Hut that day after school.

  “So we all met up at the roller-skating rink. Chelsea was quiet at first, but after a while she was skating around, laughing. We were all really nice to her. You could tell she was happy to finally have some friends. A few of the guys even couple-skated with her, just to make the whole thing seem more realistic.”

  “Did you skate with her?” Kit asked.

  Mr. Morton shook his head. “I couldn’t. I felt bad for her. Even that night while she was having fun, I knew it wouldn’t last. Then Lizzie asked her to meet us the next night for a secret séance.”

  “What’s a séance?” Charlie said.

  “It’s kinda like when a group of people gets together and holds hands,” Kit started before Mr. Morton could answer. “They try to combine their energy—to bring out the spirit of a ghost. It seems kinda creepy.”

  “It is,” Mr. Morton agreed. “That night we weren’t really trying to attract ghosts. The whole thing was just a hoax—to give Chelsea a scare. We went to this old well on my buddy Gibby’s family’s farm, in the middle of nowhere. No one would know we were out there.

  “Chelsea showed up. I could tell she’d done her hair, taken it out of those braids she always wore. She might have even put on some makeup. Anyway, she looked pretty.” Mr. Morton sounded wistful. “She also looked nervous.” Mr. Morton’s voice sharpened now. “Lizzie told us to join hands. She said we were going to bring out the spirit of Chelsea’s dead father. I was next to Chelsea, holding her right hand. I could feel it trembling. Everyone was quiet for a minute. Then Lizzie made a sound—a signal that we should all start to make strange noises, wailing noises, as if we were possessed by some kind of ghost. Lizzie started and all the others followed— everyone except Chelsea and me.”

  “Why didn’t you join in?” Jordan asked.

  “I could feel her trembling beside me. Then I heard her start to cry quietly. I could tell she was scared. I thought Lizzie was going too far.

  “All of a sudden everyone stopped the wailing. It was silent. Then Lizzie spoke. She said she could hear the voice of Chelsea’s father. She said he wanted Chelsea to be lifted to him. We would all lift her up, so he could bless her.

  “At this point I wanted the whole thing to be over. It wasn’t funny anymore. I told her, ‘You don’t have to do this,’ but she said it was OK. That she would do what they wanted her to.

  “I stood back, and they each took one of her wrists or ankles. She was so small. They held her over the well and began wailing again. Then they were swinging her back and forth, faster and faster. She started to cry, really hard this time, and asked to be put down. I begged them to put her down, too, but no one would listen. She tried to wriggle out of their hold. I tried to help grab her away from them, but . . .” Mr. Morton’s voice broke. He looked like he wouldn’t continue.

  “But what?” Jordan cried.

  “It was too late. She pulled herself out of their grasp, and they lost control. They dropped her into the well.”

  That poor, lonely little girl got dropped into a well? Jordan could barely stand the thought of it.

  “We could hear her in there for a few minutes. We could hear a wailing sound, not unlike the noise the others were making when they were pretending to talk to ghosts. Then it was silent.”

  They were all quiet for a moment, taking in what they’d just heard.

  “What happened to everyone?” Jordan finally asked.

  “Everyone ran scared. No one admitted what had really happened that night. They all said Chelsea was a weird girl, that they’d tried to help her, but she’d jumped in. They said she’d killed herself. I tried to tell the truth, but they outnumbered me. No one believed me.

  “A few weeks later they started to show up dead. One right after another. Lizzie electrocuted herself with a curling iron in the bathtub. Ted got in a car accident. Pete slipped on the floor in the locker room and snapped his neck. Gibby hung himself. And every time one of them died . . . someone heard the low wail.”

  Jordan was speechless.

  “For a long time, I thought I’d be next,” Mr. Morton continued. “I thought I’d have some freak accident. I even thought maybe I’d just get so sick of feeling like I was going to die— maybe I’d go like Gibby.

  “But I guess eventually I just got used to the idea that maybe she didn’t want me. She took all the others within a few weeks of each other, but not me. Then you come here and tell me what’s going on. You heard the wailing . . . and it’s like it’s all coming back.”

  Jordan felt chills. “How come we never heard about this before? My dad won’t even talk about it.”

  “Right after it happened there were all kinds of reporters asking questions. They wanted to write a story about what had happened, but for some reason no stories ever got published. The rumor is that the mayor decided it would be better if everyone forgot it ever happened. I guess the kids’ parents and the school agreed. But . . . sometimes I wonder if Chelsea had something to do with it. She didn’t want the story of her death hyped up in the media; she was always a private person.”

  “So, if this Chelsea ghost is haunting us now, what can we do about it?” Jordan asked.

  “You have to stop this girl, the ringleader. As long as she keeps up with her games and hurts people, Chelsea will seek revenge.” With that, Mr. Morton stood up and pointed toward the door. “It’s time you headed out,” he said. It was more of a statement than a request.

  Jordan looked sorrowfully at the man, knowing she had brought up a lot of things he’d been spending years trying to forget. Jordan wondered if the deaths of her classmates would haunt her in the same way.

  Jordan, Charlie, and Kit gathered their things and headed out the door. “Thank you,” Jordan said to Mr. Morton as they left. “Be careful,” he replied gravely.

  Once they were in the truck, Kit erupted. “So, now we know there’s a ghost haunting the school and everyone will die! What are we supposed to do with that?!” She slammed her fist into the ceiling of Charlie’s truck.

  “Hey,” Charlie muttered, “watch it.”

  “Hey,” Kit shot back, “this is all your fault. You and your stupid friends! Now we are all screwed.”

  Charlie’s mouth opened, but he said nothing.

  “OK, calm down you guys,” Jordan said. “We just need to fin
d a way to stop her, and it all goes away.”

  “How’re we gonna stop a ghost?” Charlie asked, helplessly.

  Jordan looked at him for a long moment. “I was talking about Briony,” she replied.

  Jordan checked the clock—8:30 p.m. She thought for a minute. “We need to get all of Briony’s friends together if we’re going to stop her. We all started this mess, and we’ll finish it. We need to pick up Kevin, and then we’re going back to the hospital to see if we can get Carlos, too.”

  “OK,” Charlie replied, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

  “And drop me off?” Kit said hopefully.

  Jordan smiled at her. “Yeah, we’ve got it from here on out. Thanks for everything.” “Sure. Anytime you need to hunt for ghosts, you know where to find me.”

  16

  Kevin was wearing sweats and eating pizza when they showed up to get him at his house. They practically had to force him to get dressed and come with them.

  When they arrived at the hospital, Carlos was alone in his room, sleeping. Charlie nudged him awake.

  “What are you guys doing here again?” he said, rubbing his eyes.

  “We’ve got to talk to you—both of you,” Jordan said, looking at Kevin. “We think we know why all this crazy stuff has been going on, but we need your help to stop it.”

  She took a deep breath and told the story that Devon Morton had told, trying not to forget anything.

  “I can’t believe it,” Carlos said, shaking his head. “You’re saying a ghost pushed me off the roof?”

  It was Charlie’s turn to speak. “There’s something else you don’t know.” As he began to tell the horrible story of Thomas’s death, Carlos’s face went pale. Charlie talked about the wailing noises they’d heard that night at Judd Powell’s house.

  When Charlie was finished, Jordan looked around the room expectantly. “So? What do you think?”

  “I think you’re crazy,” Kevin said. “I can’t believe you dragged me away from the TV for this.”

  “C’mon, Kev,” Charlie pleaded. “We need to confront Briony together. Maybe if all her friends are there, she’ll listen.”

  Jordan couldn’t believe Kevin could just dismiss all of this. “Don’t you get it?” she cried. “This is exactly what is happening to us, all because of Briony’s stupid plan. People are dying!”

  “OK, I believe you,” Carlos said quietly from the hospital bed. “Kev, something happened to me that night. I don’t know what it was, but if it was a ghost or whatever, I guess would believe it. There’s no way I just fell off that roof. We should listen to Jordan.”

  Kevin looked baffled. “Are you serious, man?”

  “Dead serious. But my parents will freak if I leave the hospital. I need you to represent me while I’m stuck in this bed. Thomas needs you, too.”

  Kevin sighed and turned to Jordan. “Alright, I’m in. What do you want me to do?”

  Jordan smiled with relief. “Just show up tomorrow, wherever Briony tells us to go. And follow my lead.”

  17

  “Do you really want to go to the game after all that’s happened?” Jordan’s mom said from the doorway.

  Jordan nodded. “I think it would be good to show my support. There’s been so much tragedy. I’m hoping everyone can come together for this.” But the truth was, there would be more tragedy if Jordan didn’t show up and stop Briony’s plan.

  “Well, OK then.” Jordan’s mom looked doubtful.

  “Thanks for letting me do this,” Jordan said, hearing the beep of Charlie’s truck outside. Tears stung her eyes. She wasn’t sure if she’d make it back home tonight. Maybe she would be the next one to die. “I love you guys,” Jordan said, kissing her mom on the cheek.

  “So, where are we going?” Jordan asked as she hopped into the passenger seat.

  “Briony said to meet under the bleachers,” Charlie said. He looked pale. His fingers fidgeted on the steering wheel.

  “Won’t people see us?”

  “I guess that’s why we’re going before anyone arrives. Plus, these bleachers have a wall around them. You have to actually go in a door to get under them.”

  Jordan could felt a familiar sickness in her stomach. She wondered what Briony had planned.

  At the field, they walked down to the bleachers. Jordan followed Charlie to a door. Black against a black wall. It would be easy to miss it if you weren’t looking for it.

  Inside, Kevin was already there with Briony. She sat cross-legged, arranging stacks of fireworks. Jordan hardly recognized her at first. She looked disheveled and wild-eyed. Kevin looked at Charlie and Jordan with fear in his eyes.

  “What are you doing, Briony?” Jordan asked.

  She smiled maniacally. “I’m getting everything ready for our fireworks show tonight!”

  “What are you talking about?” Charlie demanded.

  “All the players are gonna come out, and they’ll start doing the St. Philomena’s fight song. Everyone will be on their feet in the home section, singing along. Then all of a sudden, BAM! Everyone will panic and run out on the field.”

  “It’ll be like a stampede!” she continued. “They’ll trample each other. Then they’ll have to forfeit the game. Bridgewater will be the champions!”

  Jordan gazed at the massive pile of fireworks. It certainly looked like it could give the crowd a scare, especially with everyone nervous from the last week’s deaths. Then it hit her. The fireworks would do more than that— they’d also set fire to the wooden risers above the group, crushing all four of them once the risers collapsed.

  “That’s not going to happen tonight, Briony,” Jordan said calmly as she could. She noticed that Briony already held a matchbook in her hand.

  “Of course it’s going to happen—with or without you! Tell her, Charlie!”

  Charlie took a deep breath. “Briony, we’re not doing it. We’re not doing these stupid pranks. We’re not doing everything you tell us to do.”

  Briony stared at Charlie, and her mouth twisted into the horrible expression Jordan had seen the day she was nominated for homecoming queen. “Kevin?” she shrieked.

  Kevin looked at Jordan and shrugged, unsure what to do. She nodded at him. “Kevin, tell her.”

  “People are getting hurt,” Kevin mumbled at first, but his voice rose. “We can’t do this anymore. We have to think about Carlos and Thomas. Thomas is dead, Briony! Don’t you get that?”

  “Are you guys serious?” Briony shrieked. “You’re going to make me do this all by myself!?”

  With that, Briony struck a match. She leaned toward a long fuse that led to the pile of fireworks.

  Jordan glanced quickly overhead at the wooden risers. We have to stop her now, she thought desperately.

  “Briony! Don’t do it!” Charlie shouted. He stepped toward her but stopped when she flashed an angry grimace and wielded the match at him. The glow created a spooky light around her face. Her eyes looked black.

  “Careful!” Jordan warned. “We don’t want her to drop the match.”

  “You don’t care about me!” she screamed at Charlie. “None of you ever care about what I want!”

  “That’s not true,” Charlie tried to reason with her.

  “Briony!” Jordan yelled, catching Briony’s dark eyes. “We took it too far! Nothing good can come of all this . . . hate!”

  Briony turned around swiftly. Mumbling to herself, she crouched and lit the fuse. The flame started traveling up the fuse, and Jordan leaped toward Briony. “We have to get out of here!” Jordan shouted. She tried to drag Briony away from the pile. Briony shoved her away with surprising strength. Jordan heard a few loud pops as some of the first fireworks went off.

  No! It’s too late! Jordan felt Charlie grab her hand. She could no longer see Briony through the billowing smoke.

  Then Jordan heard the familiar sound, a low wailing. Out of nowhere the space was filled with cool air. Jordan felt a distinct whoosh, and then everything went black.


  18

  Jordan blinked for a moment before her eyes adjusted again. Briony was crouched among the still-smoking explosives.

  Briony looked at Jordan like she’d never seen her before. Then she looked down at the pile of fireworks surrounding her. All of a sudden, her face fell and she began to cry softly. “Where did all this stuff come from?” She began to stand up slowly. She stared at her filthy hands and grubby jeans in disbelief. “I can’t go to the game like this.”

  It was as if a spell had been broken.

  “Yes, you should go home to change for the homecoming parade,” Jordan said softly.

  Briony looked at Charlie and held out her arm. He took it and began to lead her out of the darkness.

  She looked so fragile and confused that Jordan felt a bit sorry for her. She seemed to have no idea of what she’d almost done. She knew Charlie would take Briony home, and they would be dressed up to accept their crowns later that night as if none of this had ever happened. Jordan probably wouldn’t hang out with him anymore. At least we’ve stopped the madness, she thought.

  As she scooped up the fireworks, she felt a calmness come over her. She felt normal— something she hadn’t felt all week. Kit is never going to believe this, she thought. She had started to gather them back into their boxes when Charlie appeared again.

  “Let me help you with that,” he said, taking the fireworks boxes from her arms.

  “What are you still doing here?” Jordan asked. “I thought you were taking Briony home and getting ready for tonight.”

  “Nah, Kevin took her.”

  “Oh,” Jordan smiled, slipping her phone back into her bag

  “So what do you think happened here?” Charlie asked, clearly puzzled. “I saw a burst of flames and was sure the bleachers were about to explode. Then everything suddenly went black.”

  Jordan was surprised. “Didn’t you hear that wailing sound? I think it was Chelsea. When we stood up against Briony, it was like the curse was reversed,” Jordan told him.

  “Chelsea may have helped, but it could never have happened without you, Jordan,” Charlie replied.