6

I raced for the house and yanked open the kitchen door. I ran into the study, where my parents had set up their temporary office. There was a drafting table and rolls of blueprints and a couple of jars of sharpened pencils. Mom looked up from the worktable, where she was checking figures on her desktop computer. She smiled when she saw me.

“Hey, Jay, did you have fun with your new friend?”

“Mom,” I said, catching my breath. “Did any little kids come into the house? A boy about Sally’s age?”

She shook her head no, and I bolted for the hallway and ran up to the second floor.

It took me a few moments to figure out where the attic staircase was located. At the end of the hall, across from my bedroom, behind a narrow door.

As I went up, the attic steps groaned under my feet—if I didn’t know better I’d say it sounded almost human.

I got to the top and threw open the attic door.

It wasn’t what I expected. Back home the attic is wide open, you can see from one end of the house to the other. But this attic was divided up into smaller rooms, one leading into another. Sort of like a maze.

It was strange, but as I went from one little room into the next, it seemed like I was walking for miles. Impossible, of course. It was just an old attic. It couldn’t be miles long. No way. Maybe I was just tired from playing ball with Steve.

I tried to picture where it was I’d seen the little boy—what part of the attic he’d been in when he looked down at me from the window.

Had to be somewhere over here to the left.

I went through a door and found myself in a small room with no windows. Not the right room. But there was a small door at the other end of the room.

I pushed through the door and gasped in surprise.

Somehow I’d gotten completely turned around. This bare room had a window all right, but it seemed to be facing the wrong direction. Instead of looking over the backyard I was seeing out the front, toward the street and the tall pines.

How could I have messed up so badly?

I’d have to go back and start over. But which way? My heart lurched as I realized this room also had two doors and I couldn’t remember which one I’d entered.

Crazy. You couldn’t get lost in your own house, right? Right?

When I finally decided which door to try, my feet moved like I was wearing lead boots. For some reason my heart started pounding hard against my ribs. I could hardly bring myself to reach out for the doorknob. But I did. I turned it, went through the door, and found myself in another small windowless room with a door opposite.

It was exactly like the room I’d just left. Weird. What was going on here? And why was I in a cold sweat? Why were my hands shaking?

Got to get out of here, I decided. Forget looking for that stupid kid. He could have this weird old attic and all these strange little rooms!

I turned back, opened the door I’d just come through.

And almost walked into a blank wall. It was a closet.

“Pull yourself together,” I whispered to myself. “There has to be an explanation. You just got confused, that’s all.”

That’s when I heard someone on the stairs. Someone was coming up into the attic. Whoever it was was trying to be quiet but the steps creaked and groaned.

“Dad?” I called out hopefully.

I heard the attic door open. Footsteps coming closer, very quiet.

“Mom? Sally?”

No response.

Just the footsteps shuffling closer and closer.

I started for the other door, wanting to get away from those creepy footsteps, and the door swung slowly shut, right before my horrified eyes.

Then the laughter started. Creepy laughter echoing through the maze of little rooms, bouncing from one to another.

It was the laughter of an evil witch at least a thousand years old.

I stood frozen to the spot as the shuffling footsteps came closer, closer, and the laughter rose and fell.

Closer and closer.

The doorknob rattled.

I pressed myself against the wall, staring at the closed door, my heart slamming so hard I thought it might jump right out of my chest.

The knob turned and rattled again.

The door started shaking, as if something big was outside, trying to get in. It shook so hard the screws started popping out of the hinges.

Now the floor was shaking, too.

I tried to grab hold of the wall as the whole room began to twist and buck. As if an earthquake was set on tearing it apart. Or as if the room itself was quaking in terror.

I fell to the floor and covered my head.

All around me the laughter rose higher and higher, louder and louder. An eerie, cackling noise filled my head and made me want to scream. But I clenched my teeth together—if I made any noise, whatever it was out there would know I was in the room.

Slowly the shaking subsided, but the laughter lingered right outside the door.

As quietly as possible I crawled and slid over to the closet. Something told me it wasn’t over, and that I’d better hide. I got into the closet, eased the door shut, and crouched in a corner.

There, I was safe. It would never find me in here.

I waited in the darkness for what seemed like a long time. The laughter faded. Slowly my muscles began to unknot.

It’s safe to come out, I thought. I started to get to my feet when I heard something enter the room.

Footsteps came slowly across the floor and stopped right outside the closet door.

It had found me.