CHAPTER 58-If Wishes Were Horses, Beggars Would Ride

The house at the end of Earlgate Street was haunted. Or so they say. When they were guiding me through the crowded city, they led me there and showed me, a place far away from the regular hustle and bustle of the city and knew only of wild brush and the soft sweep of raven wings.

It looked like a pretty banged-up house. The walls were barely holding themselves up and were visibly sagging underneath the weight of the roof. The red shingles from the roof had long faded to a dusty brown and cracks laced them every which way, like a spider's web. Where the windows were splintered, wooden boards held them in place, locking out the inside from the probing eye. The house had once been a soft yellow color, but time had done its worst and had now reduced the paint to little more than an ugly discolored beige. Not a blade of grass or a shriveled tree grew in its front yard. The back yard wasn't any better. The old house was shunned from the rest of the neighborhood, ignored by pedestrians with not so much as a single, second-long glance. A sad old house, an old, old house, nearing the end of its days.

"It's haunted," Harry said bluntly.

Brandon replied, "Except that ghosts don't exist."

"Pfft. You believe in aliens but not ghosts?"

"It's better to think that ghosts aren't real."

A cold wind blew through the chimney, making the old house shudder and shake.

I wanted to place my hand upon its door, feel the splintered paint and wood, feel how all of its years had gone by. It looked as if it would collapse just by a single touch.

Brandon turned away and waved his hand. "Come on," he said. "There's not a lot of people here. It'll be safer once we get back to the city."

I began to follow him, but abruptly stopped when I realized that Jackie hadn't moved.

She was staring at the dilapidated house, her gaze fixed on the crumbling walls with one foot on the front yard and the other on the sidewalk.

I asked, "Jackie?"

She turned and smiled. "I've always wanted to go in there. To see what's inside. And the best thing is that it's haunted."

The others were already far away by now. It took me a few seconds to realize that she wasn't just saying things. She was actually considering going in there. Her eyes were wide with excitement.

She blinked at me and asked, "Do you believe in ghosts, Ashley?"

I shrugged. "Well, I guess, 'cause I believe in a lot of things."

"Then what are you waiting for?" she whispered, a small grin dancing on her lips. "Brandon will know that we went inside. He always knows about things. But so what, he'll get over it." She held out her hand to me.

I looked back at the old, old house, at the walls that had never been touched in probably a hundred years. Imagine if I actually went inside...

I averted my gaze and shook my head, but I couldn't help myself from grinning.

She raised her eyebrows. "Part of you is saying 'no', but the other half is saying 'yes, let's do it, let's explore and make a mess of things'. Awesome, right? It's best to go in at nighttime, when the darkness plays tricks on your mind. Come on, let's hurry to the others so they won't suspect anything."

She scampered up the street and I watched her go.

A thrilling feeling started up in my chest, and I reluctantly stepped away from the old, old House, feeling its haunting eyes watch me.

"I'll come back," I whispered, and eagerly caught up with the others.

OOoOoOoOoOOOOooOoooooooooooooOoOOooOoOo

Midnight. The bewitching hour. The time of evening in which the world stopped turning and seemed to stand still beneath the moonlight. Jackie and I scurried through the shrubbery on quick, quiet feet. She held out a flashlight in her hand, waving it out in front of us like a searchlight. Everything was silent, as if the city had bunkered down and had never been.

I thought I heard someone behind us, tiptoeing ever so quietly, but when I looked back, no one was there.

"Jackie," I whispered.

"What?"

"You hear that?"

She paused to listen.

Silence except for the crickets. There wasn't even a breeze.

After shaking it off, we continued once more, cautiously. The house came into view, cloaked in shadows with a sickle of a moon hovering above it. It looked like a crouching cat eyeing its prey.

With every step we took, another muffled step sounded further away like an echo. We whipped our heads around, Jackie's ponytail fanning across her face.

Nothing. The flashlight beamed around nothing.

We turned around, kept on going. This was an empty part of the city. If we screamed, no one would hear. I heard the footsteps again, closer this time and more insistent.

"Jackie..." I whispered harshly.

"Yeah," she said. She was trying to look brave, but I could tell that the darkness was getting to her.

There was a nursery rhyme that I was trying to remember. How did it go again? Something about how looking back three times was bad luck.

I couldn't help but feel that someone was following us. The back of my neck prickled. Nothing's there, I told myself. Nothing's there.

Do you ever stand in the shower when suddenly, you feel like there's someone behind you? You keep telling yourself that you're the only one in the room, yet you're mind keeps insisting otherwise. And finally, you have no choice but to look.

I reeled back in surprise when Jackie suddenly screamed and toppled back onto me. A dark shape had descended in front of us and was now advancing, its arms outstretched.

The flashlight beam quivered and danced on his familiar face, and I could only gape when I realized who it was.

"You jerk!" Jackie shrieked, launching the flashlight at her attacker. He easily caught it.

Harry grinned, his brown eyes smiling. "You should've seen your face. Honestly, are you that much of a scaredy-cat?"

Jackie's face was as red as the store manager's. She snatched the flashlight back and huffed, "Whatever, idiot. I suppose you're here to take us back?"

Already? We didn't even get to go inside. The House was standing only a few yards away. I could already see every detail of its battered wooden door.

Harry stretched and yawned. "Eh, not really. I saw you guys leave and I was just wondering what you were up to. You know that Brandon's going to throw a fit when he realizes that you're going in there?"

Jackie nudged him to the side, firmly but gently, and waved him away. "Yeah, yeah, he's not my mother. I just want to check it out. We'll be fine."

Harry swung his head around at me, his eyebrows raised. I shrugged and gave him a reassuring grin.

Besides, the House was almost in our grasp. It would be a shame to come all the way here for nothing. When Jackie only folded her arms and glared up at him, he sighed and sagged his shoulders and sauntered away.

He saluted us mockingly. "Just don't get killed," he said.

Jackie rolled her eyes. "As if anyone's ever died from a ghost."

He waved his hand in farewell and I waved back, with Jackie already continuing on her way.

Before he left, Harry shouted, "If anything happens, just raise both your hands and scream in the six octaves vocal range, and I'll come running."

The House seemed to grow taller and glitter underneath the light of the moon. It loomed up at us once we were on its doorstep, staring down at us unblinkingly. It radiated an unseen aura that sent shivers down my spine. Or maybe it's because I was told that it was haunted.

I glanced over at Jackie. "Are you ready?" I whispered.

She winked and spun the flashlight around. "As ready as I'll ever be. Let's go hunt some ghosts."

We hovered over the door knob for a good two minutes, our hands sweaty and uncertain. I gulped, and when Jackie didn't move, I slowly extended my hand to reach down to grab the door knob.

The metal was rusty and cold to the touch. As cold as death, I thought with a smile.

It made a slight squeaking noise as it turned, probably for the first time in a hundred years. The door was practically hanging off of its hinges as it opened, and darkness greeted us.

We looked at each other, gave a small, shaky laugh, and I was the first to place my foot on the splintered wooden floorboards.

Dust bloomed up everywhere like grey flowers. It practically covered everything in a fine, pale powder. A chandelier hung from the ceiling, its seven arms extended to hold seven melted, moldy candles. A wooden table stood in the center of the room, facing an empty sofa that was big enough to hold three people. Chairs lay overturned and broken. Wallpaper was peeling off, or what was left of it. Tiny shapes sifted through the dust, probably mice. I could almost smell the motes swimming through the ancient air. There were even a few paintings hanging here and there, although it was so cracked and aged that I couldn't see anything, except for a few sullen faces staring out at us with empty eyes.

We seemed like intruders stumbling across a forgotten world. We didn't belong here. We looked out of place. We were Alices in wonderland.

I whispered, "No ghosts." I was almost disappointed. Of course, I didn't expect there to be ghosts.

While Jackie wandered off, I tentatively placed a hand on the wall of the House, brushed away the dust and the spider webs to feel the smooth, cold texture underneath. "No one's walked around this place for so long," I whispered. I could almost feel the House shuddering under my touch. "Lonely, isn't it? You've only got the spiders and moths for company."

Jackie's scream echoed around the empty halls. Nearly leaping out of my skin, I stumbled and quickly hurried over toward her.

"What?! What is it?!" I gasped.

The flashlight was pointed toward the ceiling and she had clutched her chest, trying to regain her breath.

She let out a shaky breath of laughter. "Nothing," she said. "It's nothing. Just some bats. They flew all at once at me and I just got startled."

I could see some of them peering at us from the corners of the ceiling. They looked like tiny black owls.

She shook the dust from her clothes and we continued on through the rooms.

We came across a bedroom. A child-sized bed slumbered on one wall while a drawer stood guard next to it. A teddy bear seemed to follow us with its black eyes.

I hovered close to Jackie, making up my mind to not leave her side. I needed the company as much as she did. Scary things didn't seem so scary when you had a friend nearby.

I whispered, "How come they didn't lock this place up? Anyone can just glide in and out."

"I don't think the authorities wasted their time with it. After all, it's not like it's anything valuable." I disagreed, but didn't say it aloud.

She grinned. "Partners in crime, you and me," she said. "Breaking into private property and waking up the dead." The flashlight shone up at her, casting an eerie glow onto the ceiling. It looked almost like a transparent eyeball staring down at us. She quickly averted the beam so that it pointed to the floor.

"It's a shame that ghosts don't live here," I said, gingerly picking up the teddy bear. One of its arms was missing and a daddy-long-legs strode carefully on its forehead. I quickly tossed it back onto the bed in mild disgust. "It seems like the perfect place to haunt."

She was already starting out the bedroom door and I followed. The flashlight waved in front of us. "I wonder if this place has stairs," she whispered excitedly. "Maybe even an attic."

The House did have stairs. Fifteen of them, I counted. They were broken and practically in pieces, as if an elephant had trampled on them. So many cobwebs covered the banister that it looked almost like it was covered in cheap cloth.

Jackie and I exchanged side-long glances in silence.

She whispered, "We shouldn't go up. Who knows what's up there." I only stared back.

A small smile made its way across her lips. I nodded at her, my eyes gleaming in excitement.

She led the way. The steps creaked and groaned alarmingly, but they didn't give way. The House was trying desperately to hold itself together.

Little by little, we reached the second floor. At the back of my mind, I remembered that bad things happened up the stairs. At least, they did in horror movies.

There was another bedroom, a bonus room, and a large bathroom. A huge, rusty tub that had once been white sagged dejectedly behind the moth-eaten green shower curtains.

Jackie turned the knobs on the sink, but nothing but a black widow spider came scurrying out.

A large, five foot tall mirror was seated patiently against the tile wall. I stepped back nervously as I studied my reflection. The ugly blotches and bruises that Heath had pounded into me were beginning to fade. Still, I never liked mirrors.

Mirrors, after all, told nothing but the truth.

"Someone's there," Jackie suddenly whispered. I stiffened. Her face was dead serious.

She closed the bathroom door as quietly as possible and stepped back. "Better safe than sorry," she said, a glimmer of a smile in her eyes, but it was faint. We were both starting to get paranoid.

We held our breaths and listened. Was it just my imagination, or did the stairs creak ever so softly, bearing the weight of someone? The floorboards groaned delicately, as quiet as a spring breeze. It could have only been a trick of the ears. I was only hearing things.

Did the door knob turn ever so slightly? I could picture a phantom hand snaking through.

Ghosts weren't real. Brandon had said so. Or maybe it was because he was afraid to admit that they existed?

The House was so quiet that I could hear Jackie's breathing. That was the only sound in the entire room. A footstep sounded just outside the door. It was real, no mistaking it. Ghosts were real.

"Wait," Jackie whispered. Her brow was furrowed. Tearing a stubborn strand of hair away from her face, she whispered, "I recognize those footsteps."

Before I could tell her to stop, she had swung the door open on its rusty hinges in one smooth, liquid movement.

I cringed, expecting a see-through skeleton to be standing right outside.

I blinked in surprise, not believing what I was seeing. It was a little girl. Brown bangs framed her face like a pretty picture.

Alexa.

"What?" I gaped.

The little girl winced and held up a hand to shield her eyes from the white glare of the flashlight beam in her face.

She said, "Um, Jackie? You might want to point that the other way before I go blind."

The older girl was clearly as surprised as I was. She automatically fumbled for the switch and we were instantly plunged into darkness.

It was a while before she regained her voice. Clutching her sister's small shoulders, Jackie leaned down and scolded, "You almost gave us heart attacks. And what are you doing here? Did Harry tell on us?"

Alexa shook her head. "Nope. I followed you all the way here on my own. You didn't even notice that I was there." She grinned cheekily.

Jackie facepalmed and sighed. "I just wanted to get away from you for one night. One night," she hissed through her fingers. "Oh God, is that too much to ask?"

She clutched my shoulders and shook me back and forth furiously, her teeth clenched. "Do you have any idea how tiring it is to be an older sister?" she gasped. "The baby's always whining. The baby always needs attention. And I have to take care of her every. Single. Day. Of my life."

Alexa folded her arms. "I'm not a baby. I'm seven years old."

I stifled a laugh. I found the whole scene amusing, with Jackie muttering things under her breath and Alexa already acting like she was ten years older than she already was. I was just relieved that we were safe.

"So you only came here to escape from your responsibilities?" I asked, barely masking a hint of disappointment. "You didn't come here just to actually see the House?"

Jackie took a spare rubber band from her pocket and was now tying her sister's hair back into a ponytail like her's, despite the wiggling and protests from the younger girl. "Of course I wanted to see this place," she said. "This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to trek into a hundred-year-old house and find some ghosts! Why would I want to give that up? A break from taking care of Alexa for one night was just a bonus."

Alexa huffed, "Brandon said that ghosts aren't real."

"Oh, hush. You keep your opinions to yourself."

While they were bickering, I kept my ears alert, my eyes squinted. The door lay wide open before me. I tried to peer down the stairs.

"Wait," I said, holding up a hand for silence. The unmistakable sound of wheels crunching on gravel sounded faintly outside, muffled but audible. The black van.

"Oh no," Jackie whispered. The atmosphere had turned stone-cold.

We all heard the sound of the door knob downstairs turning.

I gazed anxiously at the girl for instructions. She stood rooted to the ground for a split second, her face pale with fear.

She shook her head, as if clearing them from memories, and gripped Alexa's hand firmly. She waved her hand frantically, telling me to move out.

I followed her into the child's bedroom. The feet downstairs were trekking all over the living room. The rest of the House lay silent.

Jackie pushed me under the bed and motioned me to stay under there. I trusted her that they would never find me. Whoever they were. The girls' faces were only icy masks of dread, and it chilled me to the core when I realized that we were in grave, grave danger.

From the bottom of the bed, I saw their feet as Jackie frantically shoved Alexa into a closet. The stairs creaked alarmingly, moaning.

Having nowhere else to hide, Jackie quickly dove underneath the bed with me. She pressed her body against mine and wrapped her arms around me. I was alarmed to find that she was trembling. They terrified her. It made me shudder too and I tightly wrapped my arms around her as she buried her face into my chest. I could imagine that it was worse for Alexa, since she was all alone in the darkness of the closet. Still, I could see the logic of Jackie's plan. If they discovered us underneath the bed, they might forget about looking in the closet.

The footsteps were on the second-floor now. They tramped over to the bathroom, where we had been only minutes before. The steps sounded thick and clunky. They were probably wearing boots.

I heard low voices, too low to make out. They were mens' voices. Two of them.

Jackie stiffened and I tightened my grip on her when the bedroom door swung open. From the bottom of the bed, I could only see part of his tan leather boots. The other one was wearing sneakers.

Dust bunnies settled into my nose. My nostrils itched. Oh God. Why.

I tried to stifle the sneeze and my hand quickly flew up to pinch my nose closed. My ears popped, but luckily, no noise was made.

The two men were right in front of our hiding place. I judged the distance to the door.

One of them whispered gruffly, "The front door was open. Someone's in here. Could be one of those kids." The voice was cold and very, very unfriendly. It fit someone who had escaped from jail and had a kitchen knife firmly weld in one hand.

But I could tell that these people were unarmed. I caught a few short glimpses of their bare hands.

What did they want? Jackie let out a stifled whimper, but they acted as if they didn't hear anything.

What do I do? Jackie seemed incapable of doing any else. Alexa was stuck in the closet, which was a few feet away from me. It could have been miles away.

Come on. I wracked my brain. I was the cat from the prophecy! StarClan's chosen one! ThunderClan's loyal warrior! I was Shadefrost!

What would Shadefrost do? She would stop hiding and zigzag out the door, giving the two men something to chase. That way, I could distract them from my friends.

I inhaled a deep breath, probably clogging my lungs with more dust bunnies. Giving the girl a reassuring pat on the back, I slowly edged out from under the bed, ignoring the wild pleas that she was giving me with her fear-stricken eyes.

The two men had their backs to me. One of them was thin and tall and had a woolen grey cloak wrapped around his body. The other was significantly fatter and older, with only a few wisps of cloudy gray hair on his scalp. Once I was completely out of the safety of the bed, I stiffly stood up, as silently as I could.

Then I shuffled to the door. The fat man turned around, his eyebrows rising in surprise as he studied me. A map of stubble dotted his jowls.

We stood like that, staring at each other. My mind blasted into gear and I fumbled for the entrance, tearing away from the room and fleeing down the stairs, not caring the slightest that they squeaked precariously with each step.

"Catch her!"

I didn't look back. I never looked back.

I practically flew toward the front door and felt the night air fresh on my face. I was only a few inches out of the House when a little girl's voice brought us all to a screeching halt.

Alexa was standing, panting, at the bottom of the stairs. I gritted my teeth. That girl was incredibly smart and courageous, but I was more than willing to let the men capture me if that meant that she would get to escape.

"Alexa!" Jackie cried out. She was making her way down the fifteen steps as fast as she could. I dashed toward Alexa as well, with my arms outstretched.

However, sadly, the two men were much faster.

Alexa turned to flee, but the taller one already had her in her clutches. He clamped a cloth over her nose and mouth, making her frantic kicking and punching weaker and weaker until they had dwindled down to little more than twitching.

Jackie's voice was full of anguish. "No!" She reached for her, but the men easily swooped Alexa up and carried her limp body out the door. I blocked the way, my hands balled into fists even though I had no idea how to use them.

The fatter one was stronger than he looked. He clocked my face with enough force to almost match Heath's. I reeled backward, blood flying, and landed on my back with the ceiling swimming in my vision.

Jackie was pummeling the guy with her fists, screaming her sister's name.

"Should we get all three?" the man asked gruffly.

"Nah. The third one's feisty. We might lose them all if we stay any longer."

Jackie had staggered backward with her hand across her nose, probably as a result of having the fat man's fist smashed into her face.

Seeing her in so much pain made a surge of electricity shoot up my spine. I groaned and flexed my fingers, trying to force myself to my feet, buy my head hurt too much. The ceiling was still swirling like a merry-go-ground.

Jackie was far from done. "Let her go!" she shrieked, and with the fury of a tiger, she leaped to her attackers. They were already bustling down the front lawn into the black van and tossed the limp body of Alexa into the back like a burlap sack.

The engine roared to life. The headlights glowed like the eyes of a gigantic monster.

I slowly heaved myself to my feet, swaying, and staggered outside. If I hadn't restrained Jackie, she would've flung herself at the van and gotten crushed under the wheels.

One of them aimed a gun out of the vehicle's window, and a speeding bullet brushed past my hair and collided with the House, making the walls groan. Wait, a gun?! They were pointing a gun right at us! They aimed again and I pushed Jackie down to the ground. She clawed at the dirt, her face streaming with tears.

"Give her back!" she screamed, sounding almost like the hollow shriek of a Darkling. I winced and gathered her into a tight hug.

"They took her," she whispered, her face buried in my chest, her eyes wide and unblinking. "They took her, just like they took Lilith."

"Shhh."

I wanted so desperately to run after the van, to get Alexa back. I wanted to run after them so much. But they had a gun. And no one was fast enough to outrun a speeding vehicle.

She was clinging to me tightly, sobs racking her thin body. I rested my chin against the top of her head. Tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes. Oh, Alexa.

What would Shadefrost do, in a situation like this? She would get Alexa back, one way or the other.

I would get Alexa back.