Ghouls, Ghouls, Ghouls Read online

  A buzzing sound rang in my ears. I stumbled and fell to the ground. Closing my eyes, I covered my head with my arms and began to pray. The buzzing sound intensified and white light pushed away the awful nightmares, but I could still feel that cold menacing presence behind me. Still, in my mind I sensed Sam was doing his best to help protect me.

  “Sam!” I shouted again, trying to cling to him for all I was worth.

  Focus, M. J.! Sam’s voice said in my head. Think brave thoughts. Gather your courage. Do not give in to the phantom!

  I squeezed my eyes as tightly closed as I could and attempted to call up every ounce of courage I could muster. “It’s not real,” I whispered desperately. “It’s not real!”

  Slowly I could feel the menacing presence ebbing away from me, and that bolstered my resolve. “It’s not real!” I said a bit louder. “It’s all a mirage!”

  And with that, another whoosh sounded nearby along with the bright light shining in my mind, and I became conscious of the rain again, and the cold wind, and Gilley shouting at me from somewhere behind.

  Lifting my chin, I watched as he and Heath approached. Heath looked terribly shaken and somewhat confused, but otherwise unharmed. Gilley had a death grip on Heath’s arm while he tugged him forward as quickly as he could.

  When they got to me, both boys were quite out of breath.

  “Are ... you ... okay?” Heath asked, sinking to his knees to look me over and wipe the hair out of my eyes.

  I nodded dully. “Yeah,” I said, my voice cracking. “I’m okay.”

  “Jesus, honey!” Gil said, dropping to his knees as well to lean in and hug me fiercely. “When I saw that thing turn to chase you, I nearly had a heart attack!”

  I laid my cheek against his damp hair and took several deep breaths, soaking up Gilley’s body heat and the fact that I wasn’t reliving my worst nightmares. When Gil pulled away, I looked back at Heath. “How you doin’?”

  He forced a smile and I took in the haunted look in his eyes. “It wouldn’t stop,” he whispered. “I mean, it chased me through the castle, and then it left me alone for a little while, but when I went back to try and find you guys, it came after me again. I couldn’t get away from it, M. J. In the back of my mind I knew it was pushing me toward the cliffs, but after fighting with it again and again, I just didn’t care anymore. I wanted it to end.”

  I knew exactly what he meant. “Let’s get out of this rain and back to the others,” I suggested. Gilley helped me to my feet, which was good because my limbs still felt rubbery and weak; I’d pushed myself well beyond my usual limits that day. Gilley then hooked his arm through mine and the other through Heath’s and we started to walk.

  After going only a few steps, Gilley looked at me curiously and said, “M. J., what’s that?”

  He was pointing to my hair. “What’s what?” I asked, reaching my free hand up and running it along the back of my wet head. I connected with something tangled there and pulled it out, gasping when I realized what it was.

  Gilley gave me a half smile. “How’d you get a white feather stuck in your hair out here?”

  Heath’s eyes locked with mine. “My grandfather,” he said. “Our last name is Whitefeather.”

  “Looks like Sam saved both our lives today,” I said, tucking the feather inside my coat. “Sam,” I said, lifting my chin, “wherever you are, we owe you huge for that.”

  * * *

  We found the rest of our group safely gathered around the fire back at the castle. Well, everyone except for Gopher, that is. Heath and I collapsed next to each other by the fire, both of us spent and exhausted.

  No one spoke for a very long time while we waited for our clothes to dry and periodically fed the fire with wood we found scattered around the great hall. Outside, the storm picked up again and the steady rain gave way to another round of thunder and lightning. Everyone was so on edge that we all jumped with every loud boom.

  Finally, John broke the silence. “We’ve got to get off this rock. It’ll be dark in a few hours and there’s no way I’m staying here all night.”

  Gilley frowned and gave John a disapproving look. “We can’t leave without Gopher.”

  But John had had all afternoon to work himself into a foul mood. “I say we leave him here,” he groused. “The guy goes wandering off. Let him find his own way back.”

  “We can’t leave him,” Gilley snapped. “You saw what happened to Heath! What if the phantom tries to push Gopher over the cliffs too?”

  John got up and went to look out the door at the raging storm. Turning back to face us, he said, “Well, we can’t stay here, Gilley. I don’t care how many magnets we have—that thing is way too freaky for us to handle. We can’t search the castle in the state we’re in. Look at M. J. and Heath! They’re exhausted! And we’ve been waiting for Gopher all afternoon and there’s no sign of him. We can’t just sit and wait for the phantom to come back and pick us off one by one. We’ve got to get outta here!”

  “You think we’ll be any safer at the base of the rock?” I asked. He looked at me like I’d insulted him, so I was quick to add, “The storm surge is probably still covering the causeway. We can hope that by six thirty, when the tide is at its lowest point, we’ll have another window to cross, but if not, we could be stuck here all night. And I’m not sure the shore is any safer than here, but I do know that at least we’ll be dry and somewhat warm inside the castle.”

  “That’s true,” said Heath. “But at least down on the shore the phantom can’t push us off the edge of a cliff. I’m with John, M. J. I don’t know how much longer I can stay here. Can’t you feel that thing?”

  I could. Even with every magnetic spike we owned out and exposed, I could still feel the phantom, lurking somewhere close, just waiting for one of us to become vulnerable again.

  And I knew I was too exhausted to go looking for Gopher. He hadn’t shown up and it’d been hours.

  “Maybe we can find an overhang to camp out under on the shore, M. J.,” Gilley reasoned, suddenly switching sides. “Or a cave or something. We could take a bunch of wood down with us and get a fire going. I’d rather take a chance at getting out of here tonight than stay in this place another minute.”

  “Are we really prepared to leave Gopher here?” I asked the group.

  John came back to squat down next to me. “We’ll send a search party for him the moment we get back to dry land, but for now we’ve got to get off this rock and find someplace else warm and dry.”

  I looked to Heath, but he only shrugged. “I don’t have it in me to go looking for him, M. J. I can’t take another encounter with that phantom tonight. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

  I then looked to the faces around the dwindling fire. They were all really scared, and worried, and guilt-ridden, and I knew that we had to go. With a sigh I finally agreed. “Fine. Let’s make our way down the steps as soon as the lightning and thunder pass, and bring along a bunch of the wood. We’ll make camp until four thirty and try the causeway then.”

  Going down those steps in the dwindling light, pelted by rain and wind, was almost as bad as going up them had been. Especially since I was so physically wiped out.

  This time the roles had all been reversed; Meg and Kim were helping each other, John was helping Heath, and Gilley was helping me—and, might I add, complaining all the way. “Have you put on weight?” he asked, adjusting my arm around his shoulder for the tenth time.

  I tugged on my arm and pulled slightly away from him. “I can make it on my own!” I snapped. “You just stick close to me with your magic sweatshirt, okay?”

  Gilley’s brow furrowed with disapproval. “Fine, do it yourself, but don’t trip.”

  With a tired sigh I leaned heavily on the railing and focused on the task at hand, lifting one foot up to set it down on the stair below. By my estimation it was still a very long way down, and I wondered if this day would ever end.

  Farther on, Heath and John looked to be making good progre
ss, and Kim and Meg were doing great too. They hadn’t said much since we’d arrived on this rock, and I felt bad for taking them to such a scary and treacherous place.

  After a few more steps I leaned a little to my left and looked over the railing. I could see the high waves rolling and crashing onto the rocky shore below. Turning my head, I said, “I don’t think we’ll be able to get across the causeway until well after low tide, Gil.”

  He nodded grimly. “I know. I’ve seen those waves too. The best we can hope for is that they die down by eight o’clock.”

  I shivered in the cold. “Hopefully, you’re right and we can find a cave or an overhang or something for a little shelter.”

  “I think I saw a cave when Heath and Gopher went to look for that dead guy who turned out to be a ghost.”

  “Where?”

  “On the other side of the stairs. It looked big enough for all of us to fit inside.”

  I brightened a bit. A cave would provide some good shelter and we could build a nice fire until seven or seven thirty, when we would have to check on the conditions for crossing the causeway again.

  That thought gave me just the little bit of energy I needed to help me down the next group of stairs. And I was doing fairly well until I heard an anguished voice cry out, “Alex!”

  Gilley and I both whipped our heads around and stared at the top of the steps. Instead of seeing our familiar ghost, we saw a huge black shadow at the top of the landing. Gilley shrieked and grabbed onto me. “The phantom!”

  My blood ran cold as I stared at it, the edges of its shadow whipping to and fro as if the phantom was wearing a long cloak and it was being blown by the wind. “He’s not coming after us,” I whispered, and took a tentative step onto the next stair.

  Gilley hopped down with me. “Let’s keep going!” he squeaked.

  With that, we hurried as best we could, both of us periodically looking over our shoulders at the phantom still watching us from the top of the steps.

  We reached the others, panting and trembling. Meg and Kim seemed startled by the fact that we were suddenly right on top of them. “What’s happening?” Meg asked.

  “Don’t talk,” I advised, leaning heavily on Gil again. “Just move!”

  The girls did as they were told without question and the six of us reached the bottom shortly thereafter. Gilley continued to stare up at the steps leading down, as if waiting for that ominous shape to appear.

  “The causeway’s completely covered,” called John from the small platform that marked its beginning.

  “Gilley said he saw a cave over that way,” I said, pointing to the right of the stairs.

  “Can you take us there?” Heath asked.

  Gil nodded, still looking very afraid as he hurried along the rocks in the direction of the cave he’d seen.

  We shuffled after him and to my surprise and relief discovered he’d really spotted a good one after all.

  Because the cave sat just to the right of the stairs, which butted out away from the rock, it was sheltered from the worst of the wind, and if not exactly warm, it was at least dry inside.

  Gil, John, Meg, and Kim all pulled out as much wood as their backpacks had allowed them to carry, plus there was quite a bit of driftwood within the cave’s entrance, and before long we had a terrific little bonfire going.

  We all huddled around it eagerly, and Gilley generously handed out several extra muffins he’d bought at the café. They were squished from being in his pack all day, but no one cared because it was food and beggars weren’t about to be choosers.

  Heath and I finished our snacks quickly and leaned against each other sleepily. I was still very worried about Gopher, but I was physically and mentally exhausted. Taking a quick peek at my watch, I saw that we still had a few hours before the causeway was clear again, so I thought there couldn’t be much harm in closing my eyes and getting just a little sleep.

  Judging by the slow regular breathing coming from Heath, he’d decided the same thing. So I closed my eyes and drifted off. ...

  “Hello, miss,” said a male voice.

  I was aware that I was leaning against the bark of a massive oak tree under a sunlit sky with the sound of the ocean all around. As I looked farther, I could see that the oak was sitting in the center of a mammoth piece of flat rock, and to one side was the vast openness of the sea, to the other, the bluffs of the Irish coastline and just to my left was the unmistakable shape of Dunlow Castle.

  “Who’s there?” I asked.

  A man in period attire of black leather leggings, knee-high boots, and a brilliant blue tunic stepped out from behind the tree. He was tall and incredibly handsome, with jet-black hair and ice blue eyes. He smiled roguishly at me, and I felt my pulse quicken. “It’s only me,” he said, his voice a bit hoarse and quite sexy.

  I inhaled deeply. My God, the man even smelled good: a mixture of spice and musk. “And who might you be, exactly?”

  The man bowed formally. “Lord Ranald Dunnyvale, at your service.”

  I mentally scratched my head. Where had I heard that name before? “Nice to meet you,” I said with a nod. “Have we met before?”

  Ranald tilted his head back and gave a small laugh. “No, my lady, not formally. But I have seen you dashing about my castle the past several hours.”

  I gasped. “Your castle?”

  “Aye.”

  I blinked at him. “Wait a minute,” I said, holding up a hand to stop him from commenting further. I felt like I just needed a second or two to catch up. And then I had it. “You’re the man who hid the gold!”

  Again, Ranald tipped his head back and gave a hearty chuckle. “Well-done, miss,” he said formally with another bow.

  I felt my insides go all warm and gooey, and I could have spent the entire rest of the day sitting under that lovely tree and trying to make that gorgeous man laugh again. And then of course, I realized I was speaking to a ghost. Nothing kills the mood of a little flirt-flirt like realizing you’re talking to a dead guy. “I’m sorry if we trespassed on your property,” I told him.

  He winked at me. “It’s not the trespassing I mind so much as the hunting for me gold.”

  I gulped. “Yeah, well, you don’t have to worry about that anymore. At least not from us. That phantom’s guarding it really well.”

  “Ah, yes, the phantom,” he said, walking over to sit down next to me under the tree. “About that ...”

  “Yes?”

  “I’d like you to rid my castle of the phantom.”

  I stared at him incredulously. “And I’d like to see a pig fly, but it doesn’t look like either of us will get our wish anytime soon.”

  Again Ranald laughed merrily. “Ah, but you’re a brash lass, now, aren’t you?”

  “I have my moments.”

  “How might I convince you to take on the phantom?”

  My brow furrowed, and I squinted at Ranald. “Why is it so important to get rid of it? I mean, isn’t it guarding your gold after all?”

  “It’s scaring the others,” he said to me. “All those wonderful souls who stayed behind to look after my keep can hardly function with that dreadful creature lurking about.”

  “But wasn’t it you who brought it here in the first place?”

  Ranald appeared taken aback. “Oh, why, no, lass!” he said. “It wasn’t me a’tall.”

  “Who was it, then?”

  “I’ve no idea, but in order to find your friend, you must deal with the phantom.”

  I shook my head. “Wait ... what?”

  “Your tall friend with the funny cap,” he explained.

  “You mean Gopher?”

  “Oh, I don’t know his name, my lady, but I do know that all your efforts to recover him lie along the path of getting rid of that dreadful phantom.”

  I felt alarm bells go off in my head. “Do you know where our friend is?” I asked carefully.

  “I do.”

  “But you’re not going to tell me unless I agree to help you
with the phantom, right?”

  “Correct. In part at least; I shall tell you where your friend is if you rid my castle of the phantom.”

  I sighed in exasperation. “Lord Dunnyvale, did you not see how clearly our asses got kicked by that thing? Do you not realize how deadly it can be? One of my friends almost died up there! Hell, I almost died up there!”

  But Ranald was unfazed. “Ah, but you didn’t die, miss! In fact, I watched you fight back. No one has ever been able to hold their own against the phantom ... until you.”

  I shook my head again. What was this guy even talking about? “Are you insane?!” I yelled at him. “I didn’t fight back! I barely managed to stay on the rock without falling over the edge!”

  But Lord Dunnyvale wasn’t buying it. “You did fight back, lass. I saw it. You reached out to the spirits beyond, and someone very powerful answered. I’ve waited some time for someone with powers like yours to come here and help me with the phantom, and at last, you’re here.”

  “You don’t understand!” I cried. “I can’t take that thing on! It’s way too powerful! And all the time we’re sitting here arguing about it, my friend is at the mercy of that thing. He’s probably going completely insane right now!”

  “He’ll not go insane,” Ranald assured me. “Well, no more than he already was. The man’s a bit daft, don’t you agree?”

  I inhaled and exhaled slowly. There was no way to argue with a ghost. They’re impossibly stubborn sometimes. “You want me to defeat this thing, Lord Dunnyvale, and I’m telling you that I don’t even know where to begin!”

  “Ah,” he said with a knowing grin. “That may be something I can assist you with. Begin with the mystery of Alex. You’ll learn so much by starting there.”

  I squinted at him again. “What?” I asked. “What does that even mean?”

  Instead of answering, Ranald got to his feet and tipped his head to me. Then he turned without a word and strolled away.

  “Hey!” I called after him. “Wait! I don’t understand! Come back here and talk to me some more!”

  “M. J.!” I heard from somewhere off to my right.

  Distracted, I turned my head, but no one was there.