“Hey, guys!” she says. “Aren’t you excited?”
She seems to catch the look that passes between Tanesha and me.
“What’s going on? Are you feeling okay? Did I miss something?”
Tanesha shrugs.
“It’s nothing. We were just talking about Kevin’s plan to win this year. Apparently, he’s learned a lot from Patricia.”
She begins walking away. Julie stands there and looks between the two of us.
“What is she talking about?” Julie asks.
“Nothing,” I say quickly. “It’s nothing. Just opening-day nerves.”
She nods, but it’s clear she doesn’t quite believe it.
I’m not becoming like Patricia …
Am I?
While Julie and Tanesha get ready in the upstairs bathroom, I guiltily put the finishing touches on our display.
I keep waiting for Patricia to come down and taunt me. In a way, I want her to come down. Because then I will know for sure that she is terrible and I am not.
But she doesn’t, which makes what I’m doing feel so much worse.
Frantically yet gingerly, I attach the mannequin to the robotic arm with some zip ties and twine. I don’t want to leave any marks on her. Thankfully, the mannequin is so light and the mechanism so sturdy—basically a few door hinges with a motor and sensor attached—that it takes only a few minutes to get her set up. I rearrange her dress and place a hollow wire frame I made out of coat hangers onto her neck. The wires are black and create a rough oblong shape; when I drape the veil atop it, it looks like it is being held up by a ghostly head.
For an even creepier effect, I hide a mini LED down the neck, so the entire interior glows a ghastly green. Thankfully, there aren’t any more spiders hiding down there.
When I step back and admire my handiwork, a chill races down my skin.
She is terrifying.
The moment she is complete, she seems to take on a life of her own. She’s not just a prop held up with wire and filled with lights. She has a presence. A sadness, almost; it chills the air and steals the breath from my lungs. It both scares me and makes me feel bad for her.
Perfect.
“We’re going to win with you,” I whisper to the bride. “Patricia doesn’t stand a chance.”
Tanesha’s accusatory stare filters through my memory. I’m not becoming as bad as Patricia. I’m just borrowing a mannequin, not actively sabotaging anyone else’s place. It’s not my fault that Julie doesn’t like breaking the rules. If she were a little bit braver, I wouldn’t have had to hide this from her.
No matter what I tell myself, however, I can’t feel good about it. I just have to try to convince myself that she will be okay with it. That she’ll understand what winning means to me.
She’s my friend.
Of course she’ll understand.
Mildly heartened, I turn away and grab my bag of costume supplies. I’m just dressing as a caped gravedigger, so all I need is a cloak and shovel and some eyeshadow.
Behind me, I hear the swoosh of the mechanical arm moving the mannequin back into hiding. She’s already working perfectly.
Tonight we’ll win the trophy, and even if Julie’s angry, she’ll soon forgive me after having all the free pizza and ice cream she can handle. For a whole year.
It’s just a borrowed prop.
What could possibly go wrong?
We gather in the long hallway leading to the front door. All four teams.
The Masked Mummies, who created the fun house on the ground floor, are all true to name—they’re wrapped in bandages splattered with blood, but rather than traditional pharaoh masks, they’re all wearing terrifying clown masks. Then there’s the Creepy Crawlies, who made the toy factory on the second floor; they’re all dressed as large, creepy toys—a teddy bear with claws and fangs, a unicorn with no eyes and a bloody horn, and a large, terrifying doll with blank black eyes.
Then there are my true rivals, Patricia’s group, who are doing a haunted labyrinth in the attic: the Monster Mashers. Their costumes are a lot less original. Patricia is dressed all in black, with ghoulish white face paint and claw gloves on her hands. Her friends are even simpler—one is a ghost, just a white sheet, and the other is wearing a skeleton costume.
A small part of me wonders if these are just disguises, and they’ll change into their real costumes upstairs. I mean, this can’t be her winning idea, can it?
Julie and Tanesha stand by my side in their full zombie makeup. Tanesha has a fake eye hanging from her socket and Julie has one hand hidden behind her back under her tattered clothes, with a fake arm clutched in her free hand. Their makeup is perfect—sallow and bruised, complete with fake gashes and protruding bones.
“You look terrifying,” I whisper to them.
Julie smiles at me. Tanesha’s expression is more of a grimace. It makes me think I should have put a little more effort into my own costume. I just sort of look like a goth kid with a cape and a shovel. Maybe I’ll give myself a hunchback.
Mr. Evans clears his throat, and we all go silent.
“All right, children,” he says broadly. He’s dressed up like Frankenstein’s monster, complete with fake bolts coming out of his neck and a tall, flat skullcap. “You all know the rules. I’ll give you ten minutes to get to your places and ready yourselves. Then the judges will come through and begin their rounds. They’ll start down in the basement and work their way up to the attic, judging each attraction as they go.”
“Saving the best for last,” Patricia whispers in my ear.
I jolt. I didn’t even realize she was standing behind me.
That’s what you think, I tell myself. It doesn’t make me feel any better. Tanesha stares over at me. I know what she’s thinking: You’re no different. Maybe you two should work together next year.
“After the judges go through, we will ring the gong”—he points to a big gong beside the door—“which will signal that the judging is over. From there, the house will open to the public for another two hours. We ask that you stay in your respective areas for the entire time.” I can’t help but notice that he looks directly at Patricia when he says it.
At least, I think he’s looking at Patricia. Maybe he’s looking at me. Maybe he knows …
“You’ve all done a great job this year. No matter what, you should all be proud of yourselves. So, let’s have one big cheer for teamwork, and for Halloween bringing us all together.”
We all give a big “Hip, hip, hooray.” My heart thuds so fast in my chest I feel it might burst. But this time, it’s not with fear. It’s with sheer excitement.
This is the moment I’ve been waiting for all year.
This is it.
Mr. Evans waves us on, and we all scatter to our respective floors.
I hear the door open and close behind me as we head toward the basement, and Mr. Evans’s booming voice as he announces to the waiting crowd that we are almost ready to begin.
Then the basement door closes behind us, and the rest of his speech is swallowed up by darkness.
Minutes creep by.
I check my watch: 6:06. The doors will have opened by now. The judges must be on their way.
I stand at the base of the stairs, hiding behind a papier-mâché tree, my shovel in hand and my hood pulled high. My heart beats so loudly I can’t hear anything besides my pulse, not even the crickets or the storm noises we have playing on repeat. A crackle of thunder crashes through the speaker, along with a well-cued strobe flash.
Are those footsteps I hear above me?
The judges must be getting close.
I hunch over.
I’m ready.
So.
Ready.
Something creaks above me. They’re here! Yes! It’s time to go.
I raise my shovel, which is our signal that the judges are arriving. Farther in, I know that Tanesha and Julie begin their prowl, moaning low and menacingly.
The door doesn’t open.
>
Another minute passes.
What’s taking them so long?
I check my watch. 6:15.
My excitement turns sour. Did the judges get mixed up? Are they going to the attic first?
I can practically see Patricia smiling to herself up there as the judges tour her room first. I bet she got her parents to bribe the judges to go upstairs. She’s hoping to throw us. Thinking we’ll break character to go investigate and thus lose by default. Well, I’m perfectly fine waiting. I’m not going to let her get to me. When the judges come down, we’ll be ready.
I check again: 6:20.
Okay, even if the judges did go from the top down, they should be reaching us by now. I see Tanesha amble by. She gives me a very clear What the heck is going on? look. I shrug.
At least she and Julie haven’t broken character. They really are professionals. Much better actors than I am.
Footsteps echo above us. Running. Huh. Maybe that’s part of the fun house’s display, like chasing clowns or something. It makes me grateful I’m not a judge—I hate clowns.
The thudding footsteps reach the basement door, and suddenly the door is thrown open, slamming on its hinges, and more footsteps crash down into the basement. I peer up from my hiding place.
It’s not a judge.
It’s Patricia.
I take a step forward and feel anger rise in my chest.
“What are you—?” I begin.
Then I see the look on her face.
Fear.
Pure, absolute fear.
“Guys, come quick,” she gasps. “The house … the rooms. They’re haunted. They’re real!”
For a moment, all I can do is stare at her.
Then I start to laugh.
“Really?” I ask through my laughter. “That’s your big plan? That’s how you intend to sabotage us?”
“Kevin, I’m not—”
“And I’m not buying it, Patricia! You aren’t going to make us break character and lose this. I bet the judges are right behind you.” As if on cue, I hear footsteps upstairs. “Now, go back to the attic before the judges come down and you ruin everything. You know that my dads talked to the judges, and if you’re caught trying to sabotage us again, you’re disqualified.”
Patricia doesn’t drop the act. Her wide eyes look up to the door.
“It’s not the judges. Mr. Evans never came back in. No one did. We’re trapped in here, Kevin, and the rooms have come alive! We have to try to escape!”
“What’s going on?” Tanesha asks. She steps up beside me. “What are you doing down here?”
“Trying to get us disqualified,” I say. “She says the rooms have come alive.”
Tanesha laughs. “Wow. That’s pathetic.” She shakes her head and looks to me. “What time is it? I feel like the judges should be here by now.”
“Guys, listen to me!” Patricia yells. She reaches out and grabs my shoulder. Hard. “This isn’t a joke! The judges aren’t coming! This. House. Is. Alive!”
I reach up to shove her hand off my shoulder. To tell her this nonsense is getting old.
That’s when I hear Julie scream.
Tanesha and I stare at each other for a second, and then, without speaking, take off toward the sound of Julie’s screams.
“Don’t leave me!” Patricia calls out behind us. “Please!”
But we’re off. Crashing over foam and papier-mâché, pushing aside draped garbage bags. Thunder rolls above us, a great booming roar. Strobe lights flash.
My foot catches on something hard and I stumble. Crash to my knees.
And sink into wet, musty earth.
My heart leaps into my throat as I stare down at the grass poking wetly between my fingers.
“What in the world …” I whisper. We didn’t bring any real grass down here.
Tanesha gasps at my side. “Kevin. Look.”
She points.
When I raise my head I’m hit with a soul-crushing truth.
Foggy swampland stretches out around us, filled with real willow trees and a heavy moon resting above their branches. I look back to what I tripped over.
A tombstone.
A real, broken tombstone.
We’re in a graveyard.
Tanesha helps me to my feet, but we don’t race off again. We stand there, surrounded by heavy mist, tombstones rising from the fog like demonic hounds.
“What is going on, Kevin?” Tanesha asks. Her voice is surprisingly calm. Like she’s in shock.
“I don’t know,” I reply.
I look behind us. I don’t see the basement steps anymore, but I know they were back there. At least, I think they were. I hope.
“This is a real graveyard,” she says. Not a question. Her statement is tinged with disbelief.
“Yeah,” I say. My brain feels like it’s stalled. Where thought should be is just one long high-pitched ring.
“We have to find Julie,” Tanesha says. She takes a step forward.
I’m frozen.
Anything could be out there.
But that’s not why I don’t want to move. Suddenly, my dreams from the past few nights flood back through my thoughts.
The hill with a casket holding my own body.
The swamp filled with snakes.
The pavilion with the weeping bride.
I know precisely what’s out there, and for the first time in my life, I’m really, truly scared.
I try to move my feet, but they are stuck to the ground. How is this happening? How are we here? How can this be real? Absolutely nothing about this is explainable or rational or logical, and it feels like my brain is short-circuiting, because, somehow, this is no dream.
Julie screams again, closer this time, and my legs finally kick into gear. Tanesha hurries on beside me. Together, we race through the fog in search of her.
Tombstones tumble under our feet, but we manage to leap over them. This part of the cemetery is just rolling hills and graves, though the grass squelches under our feet with the promise of swampland. Somewhere out there is the mire, and the snakes, but for now at least we race over dry land. I hope I never have to encounter one of those snakes in real life.
Or the bride.
Or the hill with my casket …
“There!” Tanesha yells out. She points ahead, to the top of a hill.
A lone, scraggly tree scratches up to the moonlight. And at its base, cowering against the trunk, is Julie. She holds a branch in both hands, swinging it at the fog.
I push for extra speed, but Tanesha reaches out and grabs my arm, forcing me to slow down.
“Kevin,” she gasps. “What are those?”
Because there, stumbling through the mist, are shambling gray shapes my brain doesn’t want me to see. I know them from their hunched backs,
their outraised arms,
their lumbering gait.
I know before their moans even hit my ears.
“Zombies,” I whisper.
“No way,” Tanesha replies. But now she sounds like she’s finally panicked. “What do we do?”
I look at her. She’s staring at me in a way that tells me she expects me to take the lead.
“I don’t know,” I reply.
I build haunted houses, not live in them!
“But you’ve watched all sorts of scary movies,” she replies. “You have to know how to defeat them.”
My mind races. I have watched a lot of scary movies. That’s how I get a lot of my material. But there’s a difference between watching a scary movie and being in one.
Especially because, in scary movies, the main characters often do everything wrong.
“Zombies are slow and kind of stupid,” I say. “Maybe one of us can distract them while the other runs in and saves Julie.”
“I’m fastest,” Tanesha says. It’s not a fact she seems happy about right now. She swallows hard. “I’ll distract them. You save Julie.”
I nod. Look around. “Let’s meet back by that tree,” I sa
y, pointing in the direction from which we came.
She nods once and darts off, cutting through the mist like an arrow.
“Hey, zombies!” she calls out. “Over here! Look at me! I bet my brains taste delicious!”
The zombies groggily look over to Tanesha, who stands a few yards away from them, jumping up and down and waving her hands. They’re the real deal—they even smell dead. Some are missing arms, others don’t have jaws or eyes. There’s even one that’s just a torso on the ground, scratching toward Julie with bloody hands.
For a moment, I don’t think our plan is going to work. Then Tanesha yells out again, and they start hobbling toward her.
She immediately runs away. The zombies follow.
I run up to Julie as quietly as I can. She’s slouched against the tree, and when she sees me, she raises the branch as if to hit me with it. Thankfully, she sees it’s me right before striking. She drops the branch and jumps toward me.
“Kevin!” she yelps. “I was so scared. I was just walking around acting like a zombie and then—”
“Shhhhh,” I urge. I pat her on the back and look around wildly, but it seems like the zombies are still preoccupied with Tanesha. I see her running circles around them farther off. “Stay quiet. We don’t want to be found.”
She gulps and nods.
“Can you run?” I ask.
Another nod.
“Good. Because we’re getting out of here.”
I hope.
Julie and I wait at the meeting point for what feels like hours. She holds the branch and I clutch a piece of tombstone and we stare out through the dark mist in quiet fear. Every once in a while, lightning crackles overhead, and the graveyard is illuminated in the flash.
It stretches on forever.
I don’t tell Julie, but I worry I won’t be able to find our way back. If there even is a way back.
Fog creeps closer and higher, until the next time lightning flashes, I can’t see anything but gray. Chills race down my skin, and not just from the cold, damp mist.
“Kevin,” Julie whispers. “Do you think she’s okay?”
“Yeah,” I reply. I try to sound brave and assured, but I’m secretly worried. Tanesha should have been back by now. What if she got lost in the fog? What if she never finds us? What if she was—? “She’s fast and she’s smart,” I tell Julie. “Those zombies don’t have a chance.”
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