34

I leaned over the railing, expecting to see Katie falling to the floor.

The witch-thing stared up at me, inches from my face.

A white claw grabbed at me but I jumped back.

“Jason! Help!”

It was Katie’s voice. What I’d thought was the witch-thing was Katie, dangling over the stair banister, high above the floor. Her long dress had caught on the top of the banister.

As all this shot through my fevered brain, I heard the dress rip.

I sprang forward and grabbed her just as the old material gave way.

With the last of my strength I pulled her back over the banister and we both collapsed on the floor.

“What happened?” said Katie, dazed and shivering.

Before I could answer there was a CRACK! of lightning. In the flash I could see Katie’s terror-stricken face.

Thunder rolled over the house, shaking it to the core.

We huddled on the floor as a violent wind battered the house. Somewhere downstairs a window broke.

The wind shrieked—suddenly every window in the house shattered with a huge explosive crash.

The wind invaded the house, howling from every direction, gathering force as it rushed up toward us.

“Sally!” I shouted. “We’ve got to get to my sister!”

The wind tore the sound out of my mouth, but Katie nodded. She understood.

Gripping one another, we pushed down the hall, fighting the wind every step of the way.

We managed to get back to the bedroom.

Inside, Sally was clinging to the bedpost with one hand, her hair streaming out behind her. With her other arm she clutched Winky.

“Hang on!” I screamed.

Poor Sally was crying and frightened but didn’t seem hurt. Our feet crunched broken glass as we ran to her.

As I gathered her up she cried, “Bobby’s scared!”

I felt a leap of hope. “Is there anything we can do to help?” I asked.

“No,” Sally said, sniffling. “The witch-thing is too strong. She’s come back to get him.” She buried her head on my shoulder and sobbed.

“We’ve got to get out of this house!” shouted Katie.

Sure, if the house would let us go.

We kept to the wall in the hallway, pressing our backs against it as we inched along, the wind batting us around like cat toys.

When we reached the stairway we threw ourselves against the banister and held on.

Slowly we pulled our way down the stairs, gripping the railing.

I could see the front door! We were almost there.

At the bottom of the stairs we held tight to one another and inched across the hallway. Under the roar of the wind I heard the echo of evil laughter.

I refused to listen. We were going to make it.

We reached the front door and Katie grasped the doorknob.

She turned the knob and pulled.

The door opened.

Outside it was a beautiful starlit night without even a puff of breeze.

As I lifted my foot to cross the threshold, I felt the house sigh.

And then we were hurtling backwards, sucked up the stairs.

The house had breathed us in again!

The front door banged shut—SLAM.

The wind was too powerful to resist.

Our feet never touched the floor.

The brim of Katie’s hat flapped in my face and her dress flew up to blind us. Sputtering, I pushed it off my face, fighting off the smell of the grave.

As we were blown upstairs the attic door opened with a BANG! so hard the doorknob smashed through the wall.

The wind dragged us up the stairs and tossed us into the attic.

It was Bobby’s attic. In the corner was the child’s rocking chair. No other furniture, not even the toy chest.

The wind stopped abruptly.

As we started to breathe again the attic door slammed shut behind us. We were locked inside.

What did the ghost want with us? Why had the house dragged us back inside?

Before I could figure anything out there was another sharp CRACK! of lightning that made us jump.

Katie screamed.

In the flare of light we saw a tall, hooded figure raising a sledgehammer, ready to strike.