Silence.
A silence that rang in my ears.
No. No reply from Angelica.
I shivered. Was she there in my room watching me? Teasing me by not answering?
I knew I couldn’t sleep. Maybe I’d never sleep again!
I pulled on jeans and a couple of sweaters. Then I sneaked downstairs, out of the house, and began walking through the chilled darkness to Nights.
Lewis. Lewis will cheer me up, I told myself.
Lewis will hold me and assure me that I’m okay. That we’re not all in some kind of horrifying nightmare. That no hundred-year-old ghost plans to kill us all.
My heart was pounding by the time I turned onto Fear Street. My breath puffed up in front of me.
The world seemed even more still than usual. Nothing moved, not a blade of grass on the dew-crusted lawns, not even the few leaves left hanging on the trees.
Silence.
My throat suddenly ached. I started to jog faster. I needed the warmth of the bar. The friendly faces. Lewis.
The silver bracelet bounced on my wrist. I jammed my icy hands into my parka pockets.
Squinting into the gray dimness, I watched for the lights of the Fear Street Acres shopping center. To my surprise, I saw only darkness up ahead.
My first thought: It must be foggier than I realized. The lights must be hidden behind thick fog.
My second thought: Has a power blackout turned off all the lights?
I jogged across the street. Then stopped. No lights on at Nights? Had Ryland closed up tonight?
A wave of panic swept over me. I spun around. No streetlights behind me. No glow of red or green from the traffic light at Fear and Walker.
Whoa.
Where is the bar?
I took a deep, shuddering breath and moved forward. “Hey, anyone here?” I shouted. “Anyone?” My voice came out high and shrill.
I let out a gasp as I realized I was staring up a dark hill. A steeply sloping lawn, stretching all gray and black under the pale sliver of moonlight.
I’m on the wrong block, I decided.
I made a wrong turn.
But, no. I turned back and glimpsed the tilted street sign at the corner. Fear Street. Yes. Here I was.
But the lights? The shopping center? The bar?
All darkness. Shadows swaying over the sloping lawn. And at the top of the hill . . .
An enormous house, all blacks and purples. Hunkering up there like a giant animal about to pounce.
The slanted roofs. The twin chimneys on either side, rising beside castlelike turrets. The balconies and terraces.
Of course I recognized it.
Of course I knew what house I was staring at in such trembling horror.
But how could I believe it?
How could I believe my own eyes?
For I was staring up at the Fear Mansion. The house that was torn down nearly two years ago.
I had been there that day. Lewis and I had watched it come down.
All of the old mansions on Fear Street were destroyed—blown up, knocked down, and carted away—to make way for the shopping center.
But now I stood at the bottom of the lawn, my hands jammed into my pockets, my body shuddering in disbelief, gazing up at the mansion. Not a burned-out shell as I remembered it. But tall and whole, as it must have looked a hundred years ago.
“No. It . . . can’t be,” I stammered out loud. And then I cupped my hands around my mouth and started to shout. “Is anybody here? Can anybody help me?”
No. No reply.
And then I felt the push at my back. The strong push forcing me up the hill, my shoes slipping on the frosted ground, the tall grass matted down and frozen.
I felt something—or someone—pushing me to the house.
I opened my mouth to cry once again for help. But this time, no sound came out. My breath caught in my throat. My heart seemed to leap in my chest.
Something drew me forward.
Pushed me, tugged me toward the old house.
The old house that couldn’t be there!
Was it some kind of evil Fear magic?
Was this Angelica’s revenge?
I couldn’t breathe. I straightened my legs, tightened my muscles, pushed my heels into the hard ground. Struggled to resist, to fight back against the invisible force.
But now the wide columns of the front porch loomed over me. And the thick wood of the double front doors creaked as the doors slowly swung open.
Beyond them, I saw eerie green light, thick and foggy, a billowing light.
Closer . . . closer.
“No! Please—please!” I finally found my voice. “Help me, somebody! Stop! Stop! Please!”
I couldn’t fight it. I couldn’t stop myself.
“Somebody—please?”
A strong push sent me stumbling inside. The heavy doors slammed hard behind me.