The Haunting of Hounds Hollow
Page 24
“You’re getting so tall, Lucas,” she said. “I hadn’t noticed until just now.”
“That’s how life works, Mom,” he said.
When Lucas rounded the corner of the house, he was surprised to find that the maze was gone. The hedges and grass path that had been so easy to become lost in were no more than black shrubs and dried brown patches. He stepped down the slope carefully and surveyed the damage. At the center of nothing, the shack still stood unscathed except for the hole in the wall where Scout and Shadow had fought.
Lucas stood in front of the shack and opened the door. It was empty inside. Even Lens’s photo collection of the beast was gone. “Hello?” he said to nobody. And nobody answered. The space was as quiet as a tomb.
When he headed back outside, Lucky the cat was there. He stretched under the bright moon that hung low in the sky, then sauntered over to Lucas and nuzzled between his legs, letting out a deep, rhythmic purr. “I missed you, too, Lucky.”
In moonlight, a dark circle appeared in the field. Lucas knelt and put his hand on the ground. It pulsed with a warmth that sent a shiver up his arm. He remembered the dog pack as they surrounded Bess and Lens. It had been only a week since everything had happened, but it felt like years.
With a deep breath, Lucas took in the calming smell of freshly cut grass. He felt silly all of a sudden, being outside by himself when his parents were inside waiting for him, but there was something he had to do. Lucas cleared his throat.
“Casper, Dakota, Duke, Shadow, Scout, and all the others … thank you. Thank you for never giving up. I’m sorry we were wrong in the beginning and I’m sorry we didn’t listen. That we saw you as monsters and ran from you. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you. I hope you can finally rest now.”
Then he added, “I hope you can finally rest, too, Abel Sweetwater.”
Lucas closed his eyes, clasped his hands in his lap, and said a prayer for the Hound Pound. As he did, he felt a small, rough tongue licking his wrist.
When he opened his eyes, all of the dogs stood at attention in front of Lucas. This time they were blue and glimmering. He looked down to Casper, who climbed in his lap and curled up. Lucas hugged the small dog tightly. So many feelings welled up inside him that his chest and throat were suddenly crowded, like water rushing into an open crack.
Standing behind the pack were Silas and Abel Sweetwater, with Scout and Shadow by their sides. The older Silas and younger Abel both waved to Lucas, and he waved silently back. Then the tips of their fingers faded and blew away like a drift of sparkles. First their arms, then their bodies and smiling faces were carried off like embers spreading out in the night.
The same thing happened to the dogs, each of them wagging their tails happily as they faded from this world and entered another. Casper licked Lucas’s face, pulling his attention downward.
Lucas sucked in a ragged breath. “I know, I know. You have to go, too, don’t you?”
Casper rolled over on his back and kicked his paws playfully in the air. Lucas smiled an ugly, heartbroken smile, and rubbed Casper’s belly one last time. Then the small white dog disappeared into the wind, carried up into the night sky to join the stars above.
Lucas breathed in, and he knew he was not alone.
When anyone writes a book, whether they know it or not, there are ghosts alive inside the story. But these ghosts are not to be feared … usually. Instead, think of these spirits as the people, the animals, or the quirky experiences in one’s life that helped lead to the final product you are holding in your hands. Hounds Hollow is no different.
Thank you first to my wife, Adrienne, who didn’t flinch when we found ourselves on a dirt road in the middle of nowhere without directions and stumbled upon that broken-down barn with faded, cartoon puppy faces painted on its walls. And thank you for not punching me when I called dibs on whatever story might live in that haunted shack. Turns out it was this one.
Thank you to my daughter, Wren, who took long walks with me, dreaming up different horrifying scenarios that could happen in a haunted house with ghost dogs.
Thank you to my son, Desmond, who constantly proves how powerful and magical it is to be a good person.
Thank you to my agent, Josh Adams, for telling me to write this book when I called him with a single-sentence idea.
Thank you to Nicholas Eliopulos, David Levithan, and Nancy Mercado, for seeing the possibility in a pack of dogs, a haunted house, and a kid named Lucas.
A big thank-you to Orlando Dos Reis, for taking over as the editor for this book in the final stages and helping make it way better than I thought it could be. Thank you to Nina Goffi for the great cover design. Thank you to the copy editors who make this book look like I knew how to spell.
Thank you to my parents, Thom and Linda, as well as my in-laws, Greg and Janet, for listening to me talk about this book for a long time and never asking me why it wasn’t finished yet.
Thank you to my brother, Matt, for always putting up with my overactive imagination.
And finally, thanks to the family dogs I have had the honor to know and love over the years: Bo-Peep, Panda Bear, Molly, Bear, Max, Scooter, and Ellie. You are loved.
Jeffrey Salane grew up in Columbia, South Carolina, but moved north to study in Massachusetts and New York City. After spending many years playing in several bands, he now works as an editor and writer, and he is the author of the Lawless series. He lives with his wife and kids in Brooklyn, New York. Follow him online at jeffreysalane.com.
Copyright © 2018 by Jeffrey Salane
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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First edition, October 2018
Cover art © 2018 by Owen Richardson
Cover design by Nina Goffi
e-ISBN 978-1-338-10551-3
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