Experiment in Terror 05 On Demon Wings (18 page)

ghosts.

“Uh-huh,” I said in a raised voice and opened the door to

my room. I had done a quick clean before he came over so

there weren’t things lying about that I didn’t want him to see.

He walked into the center of the room and looked around

slowly, his eyes scanning every nook and cranny. I shut the

door and leaned against my desk, watching him.

I didn’t say anything and neither did he for quite some

time.

Final y, he spoke. “There
is
something here.”

An icy trail seared down my spine and I shivered.

oveWhat?” I squeaked, and looked around the room,

trying to see past the normalcy, past the façade of my band

posters, my stuffed animals, my photographs I’d framed. I

looked for that warpy shimmer in the air that I had seen

many times before, too many times. But there was nothing.

He closed his eyes and raised his hands up in the air

slightly. I watched him, afraid to breathe or move. I wanted

to feel it too. How come I couldn’t see Abby like I could the

others? Were ghosts able to pick and choose who saw

them?

I wanted to ask if it was Abby but I bit my lip and waited

for him.

“It’s her…”he said.

“It is?” My heart quickened its pace. Thinking it and

knowing it was like the difference between being scared

and being absolutely horrified.

“I’m picking up on some of her thoughts,” he said, eyes

stil closed. “But they are al over the place.”

“Thoughts?”

“When she died,” he said slowly and with patience.

Right. I kept my mouth shut and did a once over of the

room again. It was too bad, in a gruesome way, that the

slippers weren’t there anymore because he might have

been able to get a reading off of them. I know he said he

picked up on their last thoughts, but surely he could do

more than that. Then again, what could I do? I was hovering

by my desk, watching my room with eagle eyes for

something I couldn’t see myself.

“She’s angry,” he said. “But it’s stronger than hate. It’s

evil.”

“Evil?” I repeated. I felt suddenly cold al over and wished

I was wearing more layers.

Maximus opened his eyes. They looked at me, through

me, like I wasn’t there.

“She’s gone,” he said softly. Then he relaxed a little, his

shoulders and arms dropping.

“Are you OK?” I asked him. I took a step forward.

He nodded and winced, as if he was in pain. His eyes

were watering.

“Is it painful when you do that?”

“That one was,” he said, his voice straining.

“What can I do?” I joined him at his side and took his

hand in mine.

He rubbed his forehead with his free hand, then shook

out his shoulders and arms and legs.

“Bah. It’l pass.”

“So you know for sure it was Abby?”

“I thought so,” he said, then sat down on my bed and put

his head between his hands, combing them through his

thick, glossy orange hair. “But then, it didn’t make sense. If

it’s her, she died and went to someplace where she should

have never come back.”

I wiggled my fingers nervously. “Where is that?”

“I don’t know,” he said, his voice muffled. “I don’t know if I

want to know.”

I sat down beside him. “I don’t either. But I think we might

have to if we’re going to solve this. No trying, remember?

Just doing.”

He slowly raised his head and eyed me. He was paler

than usual and a thin sheen of sweat had broken out along

his wide forehead. “I’m going to have to poke around the

rest of the house, if that’s OK.”

“Of course.”

“I feel like…maybe it’s not just Abby.”

My eyes felt like they were going to pop out. “I have more

than one ghost?”

He sighed and straightened up. “I don’t know. It felt like it.

This felt…special.”

Oh, fucking brilliant,
I thought.
I have a special ghost.

He got up and reached down for me, scooping me to my

feet by the elbows.

“Is there anywhere else where there’s been activity?” he

asked.

I thought about the obvious places like the study and the

kitchen. Then I remembered.

“Ada’s room,” I said. “That’s where she thought I was

cal ing her.”

“I hope she won’t mind,” he said with a smal smile. “I

reckon you don’t want to piss that lady off. And I have a

feeling she doesn’t like me too much.”

“No, you don’t want to piss Ada off,” I replied, and we left

the room and went down the hal . I could hear my parents

downstairs talking to each other and the drone of yet

another inane TV program.

I knocked at her door. She had her
Do Not Disturb
sign

hanging from the knob but it was always like that.

I heard a mumbling and grumbling from behind the door.

She opened it, not at al surprised to see us.

“Wel ?” she asked impetuously.

“Can we come in? Please?”

She sighed like this was the greatest inconvenience of

al time then stomped over to her bed, flinging herself down

butt first and crossing her arms. She eyed us like we were

about to rob the place. What happened to the chipper girl I

met this morning?

“We just, uh…” I looked at Maximus for help. He looked

uneasy around Ada and I didn’t blame him. Being in a ful -

fledged teenager’s room didn’t help either.

“You want to do a reading,” Ada fil ed in for him. She

balked at our surprised looks. “Whatever. You told me he

was like some weird ghost whisperer.”

“I did not cal him
weird
.” Real y, I hadn’t.

“That’s al right, darling,” he said to me. Ada looked like

she was going to barf at his southern-style sentiment.

“You’re right. I do want to get a feel for things. Do you

mind?”

She sighed, then shook her head no. I closed the door

behind us and joined Ada on the bed beside her.

“Would it kil you to be nice to him?” I whispered harshly

in her ear.

“Ladies, please, silence,” he said. He stuck out his arms

and closed his eyes, like he was expecting to be rained

down with riches.

Ada and I sat side-by-side and watched him. It felt nice,

actual y, to have Ada in on the ghostly stuff. I didn’t know if

she felt the same way, though.

After a few minutes ticked by, according to her bedside

clock, Maximus opened his eyes.

“It wasn’t as strong in here. But it was here at some

point.”

He looked at Ada. “You seen anything strange? Felt any

cold spots?”

She shook her head adamantly to both of those.

“Heard any talking, maybe whispers?”

At that Ada became stil . Her eyes flashed guiltily and

she looked down at her hands.

“What?” I asked her, prodding her gently with my

shoulder.

“I heard whispering.”

I let out a smal gasp as my chest tightened up. Not my

baby sister as wel .

Maximus came over and squatted down on the floor in

front of us, placing his hand on her knee.

“Where did they come from? What did they say?”

She pointed to her closet and then to the foot of the bed.

“They say Perry’s name. And sometimes, I can’t understand

them. It’s like another language or something.”

I eyed the closet. A ghost in there would be Ada’s worst

nightmare.
No one
goes in Ada’s closet.

“It’s happened more than once?”

“A few times,” she continued. Her admission shocked

me.

“Why didn’t you tel me?” I asked her.

She shrugged. “You’ve got a lot on your plate. I can

deal.”

“Wel , you shouldn’t have to.”

She fixed her gaze on me. “And neither should you.”

“Dinner’s here!” my mother yel ed from downstairs as we

heard a single knock at the front door.

Ada rushed out of the room, glad to leave us behind. I

walked unsteadily over to the door and Maximus held my

side the entire way. I couldn’t believe that Ada was hearing

voices too. It gave me more credibility that these things

were actual y happening, but I didn’t want her to suffer the

same way I had. She didn’t need any of that.

With those thoughts running through my head, it was no

wonder I could barely touch my food, even the beef and

broccoli, which I adored. I put it into my mouth anyway,

chew, chew, chew, swal ow. But I didn’t taste it.

It was weird to sit at the dinner table with a guy and my

family. I couldn’t even cal him my boyfriend, because he

wasn’t. He was just a man I made out with, who liked to cal

me darling, and who I hoped had some sort of answer to

the destruction around me. But I was the only who felt a bit

awkward by the whole thing. Wel , not counting Ada.

Maximus talked to my parents like he’d known them for

years and even though it tickled me that they were getting

along so wel , it pissed me off at the same time. I think it’s

because they never had a nice thing to say about Dex (with

reason) and I didn’t feel the same way about Maximus as I

did about him.

Your heart needs time
, I thought to myself. I was right,

too. Everything with Dex was such a fast, precarious,

passionate blur. I needed someone steady and normal

(relatively) and good. Dependable. Like Maximus. I might

lack the passion at the moment, that yearning in places

other than between my legs, but I had just met the guy.

And yet there he was, shoveling chow mein in his face

while talking to my parents. And I was dwel ing on this when

there were other things to focus on. Dangerous things such

as multiple ghosts.

I started piling some lemon chicken on my plate in order

to look busy when the doorbel rang three times with a slight

pause in between each one.

My heart thudded about loudly. After everything, I didn’t

think I could take any more.

“Who wants to get that?” my mom asked, the fear ripe in

her voice.

“I wil ,” Maximus volunteered, like I knew he would.

He patted me on the arm as if to say he’d be right back

and took off toward the door. My dad, feeling unsuited as

the man of the house, took off after him, and of course I had

to fol ow as wel . Because I was scared and stubborn at the

same time.

With the door open, they were staring at something on

the steps, Maximus’s tal frame beside my dad’s short and

stocky one, the light from the motion sensors shining down

on my dad’s bald spot.

Before I even saw what it was, I knew what it was. The

pig’s head.

And I was right. As I poked my way between the two

men, I saw the poor hog’s gory, disgusting, chopped-off

head lying on the front stoop. Its eyes were gouged out. A

nice, evil little touch.

I was more annoyed than scared. I walked back in the

house, shaking my head, as Ada and my mom came

cautiously around the corner.

“Oh, very mature Abby!” I yel ed up at the ceiling,

shaking my fist dramatical y. “Couldn’t think of anything

better, could you? Is that al you got?”

“Perry,” I heard Maximus’s warning tone. “I wouldn’t…”

I shrugged and in the back of my mind I realized I was

that
close to accidently enacting a scene from
I Know What

You Did Last Summer
. I pushed past Ada and my mom,

tel ing them, “It’s the head of the pig. You don’t want to see

it,” as I walked back into the dining room.

I plunked myself down in my chair and let out one

exasperated sigh. My head was swimming. Every thought

had importance. Every thought was a loaded gun.

My dad cal ed the cops from the kitchen phone, while

Maximus and the rest of them came back into the room.

They al stood behind their chairs, staring down at me and

down at the food. I guessed everyone’s appetite was gone

after that.

Ada announced she was tired of the fuzz and going to

bed and Maximus helped my mother clear the trays and put

them in the kitchen. I thought about how nice that was of

him, even though part of me felt like he was sucking up. The

bitterness of the thought was surprising. I mean, I wasn’t

helping. But I had a lot on my mind.

When he was done, he came back into the dining room

and took the seat beside me.

“How are you feeling?” he asked. His voice was gentle.

Too gentle.

I eyed him. “I haven’t been babbling in Latin, if that’s what

you mean.”

He paused and licked his lips. “What makes you say

that?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. Isn’t that what the demonic

people speak?”

“I think you watch too many scary movies.”