by D. R. Martin
No one was about. Johnny wondered if the big automobile commotion outside had drawn away all the zombies and ghosts. If it had, it meant they could get to Nina quickly, and spirit her away in a hurry. That would be terrific.
But up on the second floor, his hopes were dashed.
Peeking out at the top of the stairs, Johnny clearly saw what they were up against.
At the far end of the hallway, down to the left, a zombie and a ghost stood guard before the bedroom in which Quintus said Nina was being held. The zombie, a long-dead Eldurian bog man, was awfully big. Who knew what kind of wraith was inside that ancient corpse? And the ghost was a Steppe Warrior, but not one whom Johnny recognized.
Johnny told Marko and Basil what he’d seen, then whispered, “Any ideas?”
Marko gulped. “Basil here can’t even see the ghost warrior. So what we need to do is divide their forces. I borrowed this coming through that big hallway downstairs.” He pulled a small ceramic vase from his pocket. “I’ll throw it down the hallway, away from those blokes. If Mr. Tall, Dark, and Hideous comes this way…”
Johnny assumed he meant the bog zombie.
“…then Basil and I go after it. And you charge the ghost. And if the ghost comes, vice versa.”
Johnny liked the plan. Because Basil would have no chance against that Steppe Warrior wraith.
Marko was about to heave the vase, when Johnny heard voices coming from the end of the hallway. He signaled Marko to wait, then looked out again.
Strolling out of Nina’s room came Pamela Worthington-Smythe and a green-glowing specter in dripping cold-weather gear.
Percy Rathbone!
The couple, she holding the ghost’s arm, walked slowly toward them.
Chapter 32
“We’ve gotta hide!” Johnny whispered. “Back down the stairs!”
The three boys scampered down the steps as quietly as they possibly could. Johnny hid on the far side of a tall cabinet, while Basil slithered under a table and Marko ducked into a broom closet.
From his hidey-hole, Johnny could hear Percy and Pamela chatting. But only a few words were audible.
“…Royalton…”
“…surprise…”
“…the next step…”
“…filthy headache…”
“…Wickenham…”
And “…Mummy…”
Then someone—it sounded like a ghost—interrupted them, announcing that there had been a disturbance outside. Automobiles hijacked. Damage done. Percy angrily asked a question or two, then the voices receded.
When the coast seemed clear, Johnny fetched Marko and Basil, and they went back upstairs. The bog zombie and ghost Steppe Warrior were still on guard. So Johnny, with a deep gulp, told Marko to toss the little vase.
Marko stepped out into the hallway, wound up like a Zenith Blue Sox outfielder, and threw the object as far as he could. There was a shattering noise. Marko nipped back out of sight.
Then everything happened very quickly.
The zombie came lumbering down the hallway, right past the staircase, not even seeing them crouching on the steps.
Marko and Basil charged after it, as Johnny ran in the opposite direction, winding up his cricket bat for a stinging hit the very instant he got close enough. What Johnny didn’t anticipate, as he surged forward, was the Steppe Warrior drawing his bow out of thin air and nocking an arrow. The bowstring twanged.
It was sheer dumb luck that Johnny’s bat happened to be directly in the path of that arrow—which made a solid thoinnnk in the hard willow wood.
The Steppe Warrior didn’t have time to re-nock, or draw a blade, before Johnny was on top of him. Johnny swung the bat and caught the ghost flush on the side of his head.
Splaaat!
While the Steppe Warrior writhed on the rich carpeting of the hallway, groaning in agony, Johnny drew the bat back for a golfing kind of swing. Only with the ghost’s head serving as the ball.
Just as he had back in Jadetown, when he was being chased by a ghost warrior, Johnny was prepared to smash this wraith into a miserable pulp. Even if it were the last thing he ever did.
But the ghost—his merciless, flat features a picture of perfect pain—seemed to know that he’d already lost this particular fight. He put his hands up, a sign of surrender. As livid as Johnny was, he hesitated to smash the ghost’s head again. And that gave the wraith warrior enough time to scramble backward, and dive through the carpeting as if it were made of water.
Johnny glanced back up the hallway to see how Marko and Basil were doing. He watched the two slowly backing away from the hulking bog zombie. Waving saber and axe, Marko and Basil were holding on, but appeared to be giving ground. Johnny wanted to help them, but first he had to see if this had all been worth the effort. Was Nina in this bedroom?
He threw the door open. “Nina?” he barked. “Are you here?”
The room was as dark as ink. Johnny couldn’t see a thing. “Sparks? Sparks?”
He heard some soft moaning straight ahead and he groped his way toward it, quickly ramming up against what felt like a bed. He reached around and found a leg, which he squeezed and shook.
“Wha… Hullo…” came a groggy, hoarse voice. A girl’s voice.
“Nina, is that you?”
“Yeah, uh-huh.” There was a little pause. “Johnny?”
Johnny bent over and hauled his friend to the edge of the bed. He pulled her upright and gave her a friendly slap on the shoulder. But he could feel her wobble as he stood her up, and almost topple over backward. She sure didn’t seem as if she were ready to make a run for it. But he had to try to get her moving.
“We have to vamoose right now, Sparks,” he urged. “Marko and Basil are out there trying to put that zombie guard out of commission. This is our only chance.”
“Don’t feel real good,” Nina moaned, leaning against Johnny. “Kinda dopey. Just want to sleep.”
Johnny hauled her toward the door. “Sorry Sparks, can’t sleep now.”
Even allowing for the late hour, Nina shouldn’t have been so disconnected.
“My right arm’s numb, Johnny. Can barely feel my fingers.”
Johnny stopped in his tracks, anger flaring inside him. “Did they hurt you? Did they torture you?”
“Don’t think so. Must’ve hit it or something. Can’t remember much.”
Suddenly, Nina put on the brakes. “Don’t forget my pack. The goggles are in there. It’s by the bed.”
Johnny leaned his friend against the doorframe, hoping she wouldn’t fall over. He dashed back to the bed and felt around beneath it, quickly finding the bag. A few seconds later he was dragging Nina down the hallway.
It surprised Johnny to see Marko dueling away with a ghost, not a bog zombie. It was some kind of Northern Raider, from a millennium ago. Blades clanked against each other again and again. But where had the zombie gone?
Then Johnny noticed a dark form sprawled down near Marko, with a small, roundish shape nearby. A body with a detached head. This ghost must have been inside the bog zombie, animating it. Marko liberated it when his saber severed the head. And just like the bog bodies back in Royalton, this one had shrunken and shriveled.
Johnny and Nina made it almost as far as the staircase, when Basil popped out of the deep shadows.
“I’d better go help Marko,” Johnny panted.
“No,” Basil said, with a shake of the head, “Marko said he’d hold this blackguard off, then follow after us in a few minutes. Anyway, he says this ghost hasn’t much spunk, now that he’s out of his bog body.”
Johnny was torn. He knew he had to get Nina out of there, or risk her being captured again. But it just seemed plain wrong to leave Marko to battle it out without any help. For better or worse, he decided what to do. He hoped he wouldn’t regret it.
“C’mon then,” Johnny said, leading Nina down the staircase. Basil followed close behind. They retraced their earlier steps all the way back to the pantry, ducking briefly int
o an alcove when a zombie came loping by. The coast was clear outside. But they couldn’t go as fast as Johnny would have liked, because Nina’s feet were still dragging.
They went into the garage through one of the smashed doors and straight to a two-door coupe, an old Allister. This and the cars the ghosts had taken were the only vehicles for which they had found keys.
After lifting the garage door in front of them, Johnny, Nina, and Basil climbed into the Allister—Johnny in the driver’s seat, and Nina and Basil squeezed into the back. The idea was to start the car and wait for Marko to appear at the pantry door. But when Johnny attempted to get the auto going, it simply wouldn’t catch. He tried again and again.
Basil climbed out of the rear seat and plopped down next to Johnny. “Listen, Johnny, you’ve got to get Nina out of here. Pronto. These villains seem to have some special interest in her.”
Johnny agreed, though he wondered why Percy had suddenly focused his attention on Nina. Without the goggles, she didn’t even have etheric vision. What kind of threat was she to him?
“Here’s an idea,” Basil continued. “I’ll stay here and keep trying to start this auto.”
“So I take Nina on foot?” Johnny didn’t like that idea, with all those zombies and ghosts stirred up like a hornet’s nest.
“Not exactly,” Basil said. He nodded his head toward a far corner of the garage.
Johnny looked in that direction.
“The Chapman Hellcat?” he exclaimed. The mere idea astonished him.
“Can you pilot the thing?” Basil asked.
Johnny had ridden a small motorcycle that Uncle Louie had been working on, over some of the trails up off of Great Lake. He knew how to start it, shift it, and brake it. In fact, he was pretty good at riding a cycle. “Yeah, I think so, Basil.”
His new friend grinned at him. “Then what are you waiting for?”
“And what about you and Marko?” Johnny asked. “You know how to drive?”
“Oh, yeah,” Basil answered. “Never told any of my mates at St. Egbert’s, but my dream job is race car driver.”
Within a minute, Johnny was straddling the cycle, Nina standing behind him.
“Before we go, Sparks,” he said, “put on your goggles. I want you to be able to see any ghosts that might cause us trouble.”
“Okay. I’ll be on my guard.” And she proceeded to don the eccentric eye gear. It seemed that finally she had woken up, suddenly full of nervous energy. About time, Johnny thought.
First, Johnny kicked the starter over a few times with the fuel and ignition switch off, just as Uncle Louie had taught him. Then he turned on the fuel valve, the choke, and the ignition switch. He twisted the throttle a couple of times and found the compression stroke. It took him only two kicks to awaken that glorious, thrumming Chapman engine. He was happy to see the bike had a full tank of gas. Then he gestured for Nina to climb on behind him. She hopped on and grabbed onto his waist.
“Can you hold onto me with that sore arm?” he asked.
“Yeah, it’s better now,” Nina answered. “Not so numb. I’ll be okay.”
With a jaunty wave to Basil—back in the Allister coupe, still trying to get it started—Johnny and Nina rolled out of the garage and onto the driveway. Johnny didn’t have the headlamp on, to avoid being noticed by the dangerous denizens of the place. He figured they could travel a bit with just the light from the quarter moon.
He was almost giddy with relief. It seemed that they were getting away clean.
But then he looked straight ahead, and his stomach jumped up into his throat.
Two bog zombies had lurched out of the darkness at a bend in the driveway. And they were charging right toward the motorcycle.
Chapter 33
As the two zombies charged, both from the left, Johnny twisted the Chapman Hellcat in the other direction. He managed to keep the cycle upright, then goosed the accelerator to zoom past the two attackers. But as he sped by them, they began to raise the alarm.
Johnny spotted a clutch of zombies up ahead on the long, winding driveway, milling around what looked to be a still-smoking, smashed up limousine—the Lindt that Quintus had hijacked. It had gone right into a big oak tree and there was no sign of the ancient specter.
The zombies, of course, heard their comrades shouting, as well as the drone of the Hellcat, and turned around to see what was happening. They started to move toward the rapidly approaching cycle in a kind of zombie scrum.
Johnny knew what he had to do, even though it would bring him and Nina perilously close to the big pond in front of Bilbury Hall.
He figured that by swinging up onto the lawn—muddy and brown this time of year—he would be able to run this latest gauntlet. But he could see that one of those zombies looked especially fleet of foot.
Keeping the motorcycle going while shouting over his shoulder wasn’t easy. But Johnny had to.
“See that bozo coming?” he yelled.
“Yeah, the thing’s awful fast,” Nina bellowed back.
“Grab the bat out of my pack and get ready to wallop it a good one.”
Johnny could feel Nina snatching up the cricket bat as he swung right, near to the spot where the lawn dipped down into the water. Another few inches, and the tires could slide right out from beneath them, pitching them into the pond. Then their gooses would be cooked for sure.
In the rearview mirror on the handlebars, he saw a tall, dark form coming up behind them—almost faster than the cycle. Even as he gunned the Hellcat forward, he heard Nina scream. Not a scream of fear, but of power. The scream you make when you want a little jolt of extra energy. He felt her swing the cricket bat.
There was a sodden percussion of something very hard hitting something very meaty. Then came a bellow of pain and outrage.
“Gotcha!” Nina shouted.
Johnny steered the cycle back off the lawn. Soon they were zooming down the straightaway that took them through an open, wrought-iron gate and onto a narrow public road.
There wasn’t a zombie in sight. Johnny flipped on the headlamp. They’d need it on this curving country lane.
“Great job on that joker, Sparks!” Johnny shouted to his friend.
“Thanks,” Nina yelled back. “Managed to smash its knee. Folded up like an accordion.”
Johnny felt her wedging the cricket bat into his pack.
“I heard some stuff when I was held prisoner,” she shouted. “It might be really important.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“I think they’re planning a big attack real soon. I overheard Pamela. She said their people were in place and awaiting the order to move. She mentioned that Royalton would never be the same.”
Johnny had heard Percy mention Royalton, too. Something was up. They had to alert the authorities before Percy could put his plan in motion.
They sped along for about ten minutes before Nina yelled in Johnny’s ear. “Do you know where we’re going?”
Johnny suddenly realized that he didn’t. He had just wanted to get away from Bilbury Hall. As far and as fast as possible.
“You still have that compass, Sparks?”
They stopped by the side of the road. Nina consulted her compass in the light of the cycle’s headlamp. They were traveling north, but that’s all they knew. Johnny had left the map back in the Allister automobile with Basil.
“We have to get headed south,” he said. “But I want to avoid Bilbury Hall. I don’t want to go near that nest of nasties ever again. ”
Nina crossed her arms. “I remember we went past a road on the left a few minutes ago. We could go back and see where it leads.”
Johnny agreed. He was pretty much out of any fresh ideas himself—it being so late and he being so exhausted. It was nice to have Nina’s gray cells back in action.
Beyond his poor sense of direction and weariness, Johnny had another worry rattling around in his noggin. Had Basil and Marko managed to get out? Johnny still felt guilty about leaving the
m.
So it was a fine coincidence when, as they zoomed back in the direction they had come from, Johnny saw an automobile heading toward them, its headlights ablaze.
Could it be Marko and Basil?
The car roared right by them, going at least fifty miles per hour—a fast speed on a country road like this.
Then Johnny heard a squealing of brakes. He slowed the Chapman motorcycle, braked to a stop, and turned it around to have a look. It took him a few seconds to recognize the very same Allister two-door he had left Basil Hastings in. A head popped out of the passenger’s side window. It was Marko Herne!
“Wrong way, Johnny,” Marko hollered. “They’re after us. Mounted ghost cavaliers. Follow us. I know where we are, and I know someone who might help us.”
“Understood,” Johnny shouted back.
Marko’s head disappeared back into the vehicle, and the car sped away.
Johnny and Nina tucked in right behind the Allister coupe. Though Johnny snatched quick looks in the rearview mirror, he saw nothing behind them but darkness. A troop of ghost warriors would be glowing green.
But wraiths on horses could go a lot faster than either a motorcycle or a car. Johnny was expecting that kind of trouble to come from the direction of Bilbury Hall. So what happened next caught him totally off-guard.
Charging across an empty field beside the road came three mounted cavaliers, waving swords and shouting things that were undoubtedly unfriendly. The ghosts apparently didn’t have bows and arrows, or Johnny and Nina would already be looking like pincushions.
Johnny could see absolutely no way that they’d survive this encounter with just a cricket bat and a Chapman Hellcat cycle. The ghosts’ horses were fast and there was no room for Johnny to really maneuver the motorcycle.
“Nina!” Johnny bellowed. “Hang on tight!”
The first of the cavaliers was closing in on them, his saber lifted up, ready to strike.
At the last instant, Johnny swerved slightly to the left.