It's All Downhill from Here (9 page)

Maggie finally reached the bottom and rolled to a stop. Sophie crashed into her and the two were still for a moment, catching their breath as the snow fell down on them.

“You okay?” Sophie finally asked.

“I think so,” Maggie replied, struggling to stand up.

“My flashlight!” Sophie cried. “It's gone! I must have lost it as I fell.”

Maggie looked down. Somehow, her flashlight was still in her hand. She flicked the switch a few times, but it remained dark. The sun was now completely gone. Pitch-black darkness had enveloped them like a thick, impenetrable blanket.

“Come on, come on, come on!” Maggie yelled at the flashlight. She whacked it with the heel of her hand, and the light popped on.

Sweeping the light along the ground, Maggie gasped in horror. There in the narrow pool of light lay Simon's broken skis. Simon himself was nowhere to be seen.

“Simon!” Maggie screamed, her throat aching from all the shouting, the cold, and the overwhelming exhaustion that had begun to overtake her. “Where is he? These are his skis, but they're all busted up. Simon!”

“There must have been an accident,” Sophie said, peering through the darkness, then feeling foolish for thinking she might be able to see anything.

“Okay, but where is he?” Maggie asked. “Why would he just leave his skis?”

“Maybe he tried to walk back to the house,” Sophie suggested. “He could be anywhere.”

Maggie aimed her flashlight back up the mountain, hoping to see footprints leading up and toward the house. She saw none. Turning back around, she spotted something.

“Look!” Maggie called out. Her flashlight lit up a clearly visible set of footprints leading not back up the mountain, but farther away on this side, into a grove of tall pines. “That way. He went that way.”

Being extremely careful not to obliterate the footprints, Maggie and Sophie hurried along beside them, following the prints into the wooded area.

In the pine grove the footprints were even more visible, as the thick trees caught much of the newly fallen snow in their branches, and less snow reached the ground.

“My parents are totally gonna freak out when they get home and find all three of us gone,” Maggie said, her mind jumping to the second most pressing situation at hand.

“Let's just find Simon and deal with one thing at a time,” Sophie said, trying to help her friend calm down.

“And what if Simon is really hurt? Or worse?” Maggie said. “This is all so bad, so very, very bad. If we find him, and he's all right, I'm gonna kill him for making us come out here and worry so much!”

Rounding a bend, the footprints turned onto a narrow path between trees. As they walked single file now,
with Maggie in the lead lighting the way, the night seemed to grow darker and more threatening with each step they took. Then she spotted something in the distance.

“Look, Soph, it's some kind of building! Hurry!”

The snow was piled high in the narrow path between the trees. Stepping over fallen branches, sinking into mounds of drifted snow, the girls approached the small structure.

“It's a shed,” Maggie said as her flashlight reflected in a window. “Out here in the middle of the woods. What's it doing here?”

Tromping the last few yards, the girls reached the structure. They peered into the window to discover stacks of books scattered everywhere. Maggie spied an old wooden desk buried under mounds of paper. Worn-out chairs and ancient reading lamps filled the cramped, obviously neglected room.

“It looks like an office or a study,” Maggie said. “But one that hasn't been used in years.”

“Maybe it was a secret getaway, or—” Sophie started.

“Simon!” Maggie suddenly shrieked. “It's Simon!”

Sophie stared into the shed and saw Maggie's
brother lying on the floor in the corner.

Kicking up snow in spraying curtains of white, Maggie ran around to the front door of the shed, only to discover that it was padlocked.

“Someone locked him inside!” Maggie cried, yanking on the thick metal lock.

“Maggie, he's not moving!” Sophie called, still peering through the window.

Desperately looking around, Maggie spotted an old pile of firewood covered in snow. She grabbed the biggest piece she could find and dragged it back to the door.

“Help me,” she said, getting as good a grip as possible on the snow-covered chunk of wood.

Sophie wrapped her arm around the log to take some of the weight from Maggie. Together they lifted the wood above their heads.

“Ready? One, two, three!”

With all the strength they could muster, the girls slammed the log down onto the padlock. The wood hit the bottom of the lock, sending it spinning around, but not damaging it in any way. The log flew from their hands and landed with a dull thud in the snow.

“Again,” Maggie cried, panting from the effort.
“This time we have to hit the top of the lock where it's thinnest.”

Kneeling down in the snow, Maggie hoisted the log up with both hands. Sophie got a grip too, and once again they lifted the wood high into the air.

“One, two, three . . . GO!”

Aiming for the thin loop at the top of the lock, the girls hit their target and smashed the lock open. They let the log fall, then Maggie yanked off the broken lock and threw open the door.

Rushing inside, she dropped to the floor beside her brother.

“Simon,” she whispered softly into his ear.

He didn't stir.

“Simon,” she repeated, shaking him gently. “Please answer me.”

“Urrrrgh,” Simon groaned, rolling awkwardly onto his side.

Maggie helped him up into a sitting position. He blinked a few times, then rubbed his head and winced.

“What happened to you?” Maggie asked.

Simon moaned again.

“Give him a second, Mags,” Sophie interjected.

“I don't know,” Simon said in a weak, raspy voice. “I hadn't been outside for more than fifteen minutes, when I felt something push me. Maybe it was the wind, but it felt like someone knocked me down. I looked back right before I fell, and I think I saw a man standing there. But that was probably just my imagination. That's the last thing I remember. Next thing I know, you're waking me up here in this . . . this . . . where am I, anyway?'

“I have no idea what this is, but the important thing is that we found you,” Maggie said, helping her brother to his feet.

“What time is it?” Simon said, looking around in a panic. “Mom and Dad? Are they home? Do they know I went skiing even when they said not to?”

“I don't know,” Maggie replied. “They weren't home when we left, but . . .” She trailed off.

“So we'd better get home, like, now!” Sophie finished.

The three kids hurried from the shed. Just before she stepped outside, Maggie spotted an old scrapbook sitting on a small table. For some reason, she snatched it up and slipped it into her backpack.

Outside the shed, they were immediately assaulted by the wind and biting snow.

“We only have one flashlight,” Maggie said. “Follow me.”

She guided the others through the pine grove, out to the base of the mountain.

“Are you going to be able to climb?” Sophie asked Simon.

“Do I have any other choice? Unless you guys want to carry me.”

The three began the long, arduous trudge up the mountain, guided only by Maggie's single flashlight beam. Simon stumbled into the snow a few times, and the girls helped him up, but he pushed himself forward.

Maggie thought about how close she had just come to losing her only brother.

“Can you remember anything else about what happened?” she asked as they reached the top of the mountain and paused. A soft glow poured from the windows of the house.

“I'm not sure,” Simon said as the trio hurried down the steep slope. “If someone did push me, who could it have been?”

“Old Man Wharton,” Maggie said without hesitation. “His ghost.”

“Are you still going on about that?” Simon asked. “I don't know who the guy was.”

Maggie fished in her pocket and pulled out her cell phone.

“Who ya gonna call, Mags?” Simon said, smiling for a moment at his little joke. “You know there's no cell service up here.”

“I'm not calling anyone,” she said, frantically scrolling through all the pictures she had stored on her camera.

“Was it
this
old guy, Simon?” Maggie asked, shoving the phone into Simon's face. “This is the picture I took of the face in the window. It's gotta be the ghost of Old Man Wharton.”

He squinted at the glowing image, and his face turned pale.

“That's him!” he cried. “I couldn't make it out the first time you showed it to me, but now that I know what I'm looking for, I can see the face—his face, the face of the man who pushed me!”

Maggie felt an enormous sense of relief. Not only had she found her brother, but he now knew what she and Sophie knew: This house, this property, was haunted
by the ghost of Old Man Wharton. She hugged Simon tightly.

“I don't mean to break up this little celebration, but what about your parents?” Sophie asked.

“Can you see if they're home?” Simon asked.

“I don't see any movement in the house,” Sophie said, looking down the hill.

A few minutes later they reached the base of the mountain. At that moment they spotted headlights pulling into the driveway.

“Mom and Dad are home!” Maggie cried. “We are
so
busted!”

“Hurry!” Maggie urged. “We can make it! Come
on!”

“No way!” Sophie cried. “We're gonna run into them
at the front door!”

“That's why we're going through the
back
door!”

Running as quickly as they could through the snow, Maggie, Sophie, and
Simon raced around to the back of the mansion. Bursting into the house through the back
door, they threw off their snow-encrusted coats, hats, and gloves, and yanked off their
heavy boots.

“They'll know we were out in the snow when they see this pile
of stuff,” Simon worried, hopping on one foot, struggling to pull his boot
off.

“So, we went out for a snowball fight, that's all!”
Maggie replied.

When their snowy jackets and boots had all been shed,
they dashed into the living room.

Sophie lit several candles. Maggie tossed a magazine to Simon and picked
another up for herself.

Footsteps sounded near the front door.

“Simon!” Maggie cried, pointing at her brother. “Your
clothes!”

“What?” he asked, looking down at his signature ski outfit.
“Oh.” He bounded up the stairs just as the front door swung open.

“Hey, gang, we're home!” Mr. Kim announced.

“Sorry we're late,” Mrs. Kim added as she and her
husband took off their coats. “The roads are getting very slippery with all this
snow. It took us over an hour to get back from town.”

“Hope you guys weren't too bored, just sitting around here all
day,” Mr. Kim said.

“We're okay, Dad,” Maggie said, offering no details and
certainly no clues as to the adventure they had just survived.

“Where's Simon?” Mrs. Kim asked.

“Right here, Mom,” Simon said, walking slowly down the stairs,
wearing his pajamas. He rubbed his eyes.

Maggie and Sophie exchanged a look.

“I must have dozed off,” Simon lied. “What time is it
anyway?”

“Time for great news!” Mr. Kim exclaimed, unable to keep his
excitement hidden any longer. “The bank approved our loan. It's
official—we're going to buy this place!”

“It's all downhill from here,” said Mrs. Kim, hoping her
little joke would help get the kids excited about the news. “Smooth sailing. The
hard part is done.”

No one said a word. Even Simon stared down at his feet.