ZAK SATURDAY RETURNS NEXT CHAPTER :DDD

I hope you enjoy the read!

Oh, BTW. This whole story is told from Danny's POV.

The three of us packed overnight bags just in case something happened and we had to camp out for the night. Although the school was only a 10-minute drive away from the hospital, we'd had enough experience to know that it was never just 'meet ghost, have tea, come home.'

It was pretty late, so all the janitors were probably at home.

If this were eight years ago, I'd have been strongly against this. I used to think all the teachers lived in the schools, and was death afraid of sneaking into school at night, fearing I would knock something over and the teachers would wake up and chase after me. Not that I'd ever wanted to spend more than the mandatory 8 hours in the sleep-inducing prisons we'd called Pearl Elementary, Louie Middle, and Casper High.

"So, how are we planning on getting in?" I couldn't just phase us through with Valerie there.

Valerie looked at her red-plated arm like she was checking the time, and something slid to the side, making way for a radar screen. "We don't have to. It's behind the school, on the track."

Valerie seemed to be taking this stakeout as seriously as she would any other ghost attack. I was starting to second guess bringing her along.

"Uh, Danny? Valerie?" Jazz shifted our attention to the sky. Something was falling. And it was heading straight for the back of the school. "Something tells me that's not an overnight bag."

I left Valerie and Jazz in the dust and ran as fast as I could to the track. No, no, no, no, no!

I jumped the fence and turned invisible, flying straight to the track, looking for the ghost that was about to be hit by a missile.

Sure enough, sleeping on the bleachers was a guy in a dark blue jump suit. He looked maybe a year or two older than me.

I raised my hand, trying not to lose my balance while running, and erected a ghost shield around him.

The missile grew closer; a familiar emblem was slapped its side: twin red zigzags hugging each other, each representing a symbol in the acronym "Z3" with a green halo at its center. I realized my ghost shield wasn't going to be enough. I flew to the sleeping ghost and overshadowed him, right after impact.

You can't die! I won't let you! I'm in control here. I order you to live!

I didn't know what to think. The Guys in White had fired that missile. They had to have had a reason. They didn't attack me, so they weren't just cracking down on all ghosts. There was a method. Who was the good guy? Was there even a villain in this? If I had succeeded in saving her, would I have been a savior, or a criminal?

The body spit me out and turned into ectoplasm. A clone? Is this a trap? Am I the target?

The noise that I thought was my heart pounding was actually a helicopter flying away above us. I was still invisible, so it couldn't have known I was there. The helicopter must've been there to check on the ghost: to make sure the missile had done its job.

Jazz and Valerie busted the school doors open and ran up to me. They figured running straight through the school was faster than running around it.

"Danny! Are you okay? Where's the –," Mom looked to my side at the pile of ectoplasm. "Oh."

"I wasn't quick enough. The missile hit him, and he melted into ectoplasm."

"Danny…" Jazz extended her arm and helped me out of the bleacher.

I swatted it away.

"Hey, you two can head back home. I… need some time alone with my thoughts."

Thankfully, they understood.

"Just call if anything happens," said a concerned Jazz.

"I will."

After I was sure they'd been out of hearing distance, I took out my phone and headphones from my backpack.

The melody was something you'd find playing from a music box, each note triggering a flash of memory that I'd either longed to be repeated, or wished had never even happened, living up to its title. While it did soothe the waves of stress beaching up in my brain, it had me sometimes imagining I was roaming the hallways of a haunted building all alone. Other times I'd just be huddled up in a large cardboard box having an anxiety attack, but it at least translated the pain into something I was used to.

Around five minutes in, the wind started picking up, and it was starting to get cold. I couldn't lie there all night, but I still didn't have it in me to face Jazz and Valerie. I dialed the number I'd been given two days prior. "Hey, Mr. Saturday? It's Danny."