Haunted Mask II, Page 3

  In the light from the streetlamp, I could see his unhappy face peering down at me. “I — I really don’t want to,” he called softly.

  “Chuck — hurry,” I insisted. “Get out of the alley. If someone drives by and sees you, they’ll get suspicious.”

  “But it’s so late, Steve,” he whined. “And it isn’t right to break into basements and —”

  “We’re not breaking in,” I called up to him impatiently. “The door was open — right? Hurry up. If the two of us search the boxes, we can do it in five minutes.”

  He leaned down over the opening. “It’s too dark,” he complained. “We don’t have a flashlight or anything.”

  “I can see fine,” I replied. “Get down here. You’re wasting time.”

  “But it’s against the law …” he started. Then I saw his expression change. His mouth dropped open as car headlights washed over him. With a low gasp, Chuck ducked through the opening, and bolted down the stairs.

  He stepped up close beside me, breathing hard. “I don’t think they saw me.” His eyes darted around the large basement. “It’s too dark, Steve. Let’s go home.”

  “Give your eyes a chance to adjust,” I instructed him. “I can see okay.”

  I gazed slowly around the basement. It was bigger than I’d thought. I couldn’t really see the walls. They were hidden in darkness.

  The ceiling was low, only a foot or two over our heads. Even in the dim light, I could see the thick cobwebs in the rafters.

  The cartons had been stacked in two rows near the steps. Somewhere way across the room, I could hear the steady drip drip drip of water.

  “Oh!” I jumped when I heard a clattering sound.

  It took me a few seconds to figure out that it was the wind blowing against the metal trapdoor up in the alley.

  I made my way over to the nearest carton and bent over to examine it. The flaps were folded over each other. But the carton wasn’t sealed.

  “Let’s have a look,” I murmured, reaching for the flaps.

  Chuck had his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest. “This isn’t right,” he protested. “It’s stealing.”

  “We haven’t taken anything,” I protested. “And even if we do find a good, scary mask and take it, we’ll just borrow it. We’ll return it after Halloween.”

  “Aren’t you … a little scared?” Chuck asked softly, his eyes moving all around the dark room.

  I nodded. “Yeah. I’m a little scared,” I admitted. “It’s cold and creepy down here.” The wind clattered the trapdoor above us again. I heard the faint drip of water against the concrete floor.

  “Let’s hurry,” I urged. “Help me.”

  Chuck stepped beside me, but he just stared down at the box and didn’t try to help.

  I pulled open the first carton, pushed back the cardboard flaps, and peered inside. “What is this stuff?” I reached in and pulled out a cone-shaped party hat. The box was stuffed with party hats.

  “This is great!” I whispered happily to Chuck. I dropped the hat back in the box. “I was right. All the stuff from the store is packed up down here. We’re going to find the scary masks. I know we will!”

  Cartons were stacked on top of cartons. I pulled down another one and started to pull it open. “Chuck, you take the bottom one,” I instructed.

  He hesitantly reached for the box. “I have a bad feeling about this, Steve,” he murmured.

  “Just find the masks,” I replied. My heart was thudding. My hands were shaking as I pulled open the second carton. I was really excited.

  “This one is filled with candles,” Chuck reported.

  My carton had piles of party place mats, napkins, and paper cups. “Keep going,” I urged. “The masks have got to be down here.”

  Above our heads, the wind shook the trapdoor. I hoped it wouldn’t suddenly slam shut on us. I didn’t want to be trapped down in this cold basement in the dark.

  Chuck and I slid two more cartons into the pale square of light from outside. My carton was taped shut. I struggled to pull off the tape.

  I stopped when I heard the creaking sound above my head.

  Creaking floorboards?

  I froze, my hands over the carton. “What was that?” I whispered.

  Chuck frowned at me. “What was what?”

  “Didn’t you hear that noise upstairs? It sounded like a footstep.”

  Chuck shook his head. “I didn’t hear anything.”

  I listened for a few more seconds. Silence now. So I went back to work on the carton.

  I pulled it open and peered eagerly inside.

  Greeting cards. Dozens of greeting cards. I sifted through them. Birthday cards. Valentines. A whole carton of cards.

  Disappointed, I shoved the carton to the side and turned to Chuck. “Any luck?”

  “Not yet. Let’s see what’s in this one.”

  He pulled open the carton with both hands. Then he leaned over it and peered inside.

  “Oh, yuck!” he cried.

  “It’s so gross!” Chuck groaned.

  “What is? What?” I demanded. I leaped over my carton to get to him.

  “Check it out.” A grin spread over Chuck’s face as he pulled something out of the carton.

  I gasped as I saw an ugly purple face with broken teeth and a long, fat worm poking out of a hole in its cheek.

  “You found them!” I shrieked.

  Chuck let out a gleeful laugh. “A whole carton of masks! And they’re all totally gross!”

  I grabbed the ugly mask from his hand and studied it. “Hey — it feels warm!”

  It was so cold down in that basement. Why did the mask feel warm?

  The worm bobbed out of the ugly face as if it were alive.

  I dropped the mask, plunged my hand into the carton, and pulled out another one. A disgusting pig face with thick gobs of green stuff dripping from its snout.

  “That one looks like Carly Beth!” Chuck joked.

  “These are scarier than the mask Carly Beth had last year,” I said.

  I pulled another one from the box. A furry animal face, sort of like a gorilla, except that it had two long pointed fangs sliding down past its chin.

  I dropped it and grabbed up another mask. Then another. A hideous bald head with one eye hanging down by a thread and an arrow through the forehead.

  I tossed it to Chuck and pulled out another one.

  “This is amazing!” I cried happily. “These will terrify those kids. How will I ever choose the best one?”

  Chuck let out a disgusted groan and dropped the mask he was holding into the box. “They feel like real skin. They’re so warm.”

  I didn’t pay any attention to him. I was busy digging down to the bottom of the carton. I wanted to check out each mask before I made my choice.

  I wanted the scariest, grossest mask in the box. I wanted a mask that would give those first graders more nightmares than they had given me!

  I pulled out a mask of a girl’s face with a lizard’s head poking out from her mouth.

  No. Not scary enough.

  I pulled out a mask of a snarling wolf, its lips pulled back to show two jagged rows of pointed teeth.

  Too wimpy.

  I pulled out an ugly mask of a leering old man, his mouth twisted in an evil grin. One long, crooked tooth stuck down over his lower lip.

  The mask had long, stringy yellow hair that drooped down over the old man’s craggy forehead. I could see big black spiders climbing in the hair and in the ears. A chunk of forehead was missing, revealing a patch of gray skull underneath.

  Not bad, I thought.

  This one even smelled bad!

  I started to put it back when I heard a creaking sound again.

  Louder this time.

  The ceiling above my head groaned.

  I gasped. It really sounded like a footstep. Someone walking around up there.

  But the store had appeared dark and empty. Chuck and I had both stared into the window for a long
time. If anyone was hiding there in the darkness, we would have seen them.

  Another creak made me suck in a mouthful of air.

  I froze, listening hard. I could hear the steady drip drip of water across the dark basement. I could hear the trapdoor rattling outside.

  And I could hear my own shallow breathing.

  The ceiling squeaked. I swallowed hard.

  It’s an old building, I told myself. All old buildings squeak and creak. Especially on a windy night.

  A scraping footstep made me gasp out loud.

  “Chuck — did you hear that?”

  Gripping the old-man mask, I listened hard.

  “Did you hear that?” I whispered. “Do you think someone else is in the building?”

  Silence.

  Another scraping footstep.

  “Chuck?” I whispered. “Hey — Chuck?”

  My heart pounding, I turned to him.

  “Chuck?”

  He was gone.

  “Chuck?”

  A stab of fear made my breath catch in my throat.

  I heard the hard thud of sneakers against concrete, and turned to the stairs. In the dim light, I saw Chuck disappear out through the trapdoor.

  As soon as he reached the alley, he poked his head back in. “Steve — get out!” he called down in a loud whisper. “Hurry! Get out of there!”

  Too late.

  A ceiling light flashed on.

  As I blinked against the bright light, I saw a man move quickly across the basement. He swept along the wall, pulled a long, black cord — and the trapdoor slammed shut with a deafening clang.

  “Oh!” I uttered a weak cry as he turned angrily to me.

  I was trapped.

  Chuck got out. But I was trapped. Trapped in the basement with this guy.

  And what a weird-looking guy! To begin with, he wore a long black cape that swept behind him as he crossed the room to me.

  Is that a Halloween costume? I wondered.

  Does he wear a black cape all the time?

  Beneath the billowing cape, he wore a black suit, kind of old-fashioned looking.

  He had shiny black hair, parted in the middle and slicked down with some kind of hair grease, and a pencil-thin black mustache that curled over his upper lip.

  As he stood over me, his black eyes glowed like two burning coals.

  Like vampire eyes! I thought.

  My whole body was shaking. I gripped the sides of the carton and tried to return his stare.

  Trapped, I thought, waiting for him to speak. Trapped with a vampire.

  “What are you doing here?” he asked finally. He pushed back his cape and crossed his arms in front of him. The glowing eyes glared down at me sternly.

  “Uh … just looking at masks,” I managed to choke out. I was still on my knees on the floor. I knew that my legs were shaking too hard to stand up.

  “The store is closed,” the man said through gritted teeth.

  “I know,” I admitted, lowering my eyes to the floor. “I —”

  “The store went out of business. We’re closed for good.”

  “I … I’m sorry,” I murmured.

  Was he going to let me go? What was he going to do with me?

  If I started to scream, no one would hear me.

  Would Chuck try to get help for me? Or was he halfway home by now?

  “I live upstairs,” the man explained, still glaring at me angrily. “I heard scraping sounds down here. Boxes being moved around. I was going to call the police.”

  “I’m not a burglar,” I blurted out. “Please don’t call the police. The trapdoor was open, and my friend and I came down.”

  His eyes moved quickly around the room. “Your friend?”

  “He ran away when he heard you coming,” I told him. “I just wanted to see if there were any masks. You know. For Halloween. I wasn’t going to steal anything. I just —”

  “But the store is closed,” the man repeated. He glanced at the open carton in front of me. “Those masks are very special. They’re not for sale.”

  “N-not for sale?” I stammered.

  “You shouldn’t break into stores,” the man replied, shaking his head. His slicked-down hair gleamed under the low ceiling light. “How old are you?”

  I drew a blank. My mouth dropped open, but no answer came out. I was so terrified, I forgot how old I was!

  “Twelve,” I answered finally. I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself.

  “Twelve and you’re already breaking into stores,” the man said softly.

  “I don’t break into stores!” I protested. “I mean, I never did before. I came to buy a mask. Look. I brought money.”

  I jammed my trembling hand into my jeans pocket and pulled out the wad of bills. “Twenty-five dollars,” I said, holding up the money so he could see it. “Here. Is it enough for one of these masks?”

  He rubbed his chin. “I told you, young man. These masks are special. They cannot be sold. Believe me — you do not want one of these.”

  “But I do!” I cried. “They’re awesome! They’re the best masks I’ve ever seen. Halloween is only a few days away. I need one. I need one desperately. Please!”

  “No!” the man shouted sharply. “Not for sale.”

  “But why not?” I wailed.

  He eyed me thoughtfully. “Too real,” he replied. “The masks are too real.”

  “But that’s why they’re so awesome!” I exclaimed. “Please? Please? Take my money. Here.” I pushed the wad of bills toward him.

  He didn’t reply. Instead, he turned away. His cape swirled behind him. “Come with me, young man.”

  “Huh? Where?” Cold fear ran down my back. I was still holding the money out in front of me.

  “Come upstairs with me. I’m going to call your parents.”

  “No!” I shrieked. “Please!”

  If my mom and dad found out I got caught breaking into the basement of a store, they would go totally ballistic! They’d ground me for life! I’d miss this Halloween — and the next thirty Halloweens to come!

  The man eyed me coldly. “I don’t want to call the police,” he said softly. “I’d rather call your parents.”

  “Please …” I murmured again, climbing to my feet.

  I suddenly had an idea.

  I could make a run for it.

  I glanced quickly at the concrete stairs leading up to the trapdoor. If I took off — and really flew — I could get up those stairs before the man could reach me.

  The trapdoor was shut. But it probably wasn’t locked. I could push it open from underneath, and just keep running.

  I glanced again at the steps. It is worth a try, I decided.

  I took a deep breath and held it.

  Then I silently counted to three.

  One … two … THREE!

  On three, I took off. My heart thudded louder than my sneakers on the hard floor. But I made it to the stairs in about a second and a half!

  “Hey — stop!” I heard the caped man cry out in surprise. I could hear his heavy steps as he plunged after me.

  “Stop, young man! Where are you going?”

  I didn’t slow down or glance back.

  I took the stairs two at a time.

  Yes! Yes! I’m getting away! I thought.

  As I reached the top, I shot out both hands — and pushed up on the trapdoor with all of my might.

  It didn’t budge.

  “Ohh!” I let out a terrified moan.

  The caped man had reached the bottom of the steps. I could practically feel his breath on the back of my neck.

  The door has got to open! I told myself. It’s got to!

  I took a deep breath. Then I heaved my shoulder against the door. I uttered a desperate groan as I pushed.

  Pushed.

  The caped man made a grab for me.

  I felt his hand brush my ankle.

  I kicked the hand away. Then I shoved my shoulder hard against the trapdoor.

  And i
t opened.

  “Yes!” A happy cry escaped my throat as I scrambled out into the alley.

  The cold air rushed against my hot face. I stumbled over something hard — a stone or a brick. I didn’t stop to look. I ran through the narrow alley, to the sidewalk in front of the store.

  My eyes swept back and forth. I searched for Chuck. No sign of him.

  Had the caped man followed me out the trapdoor? Was he chasing after me?

  I turned back to the alley. And saw only darkness.

  Then I took off, running fast, my feet practically flying over the pavement. I shot across the street. Bright lights washed over me. A car horn honked, making me jump about a mile! The car roared past.

  “Hey, Steve!”

  Chuck stepped out from behind a tall evergreen shrub. “You made it!”

  “Yeah. I made it,” I replied, gasping for breath.

  “I — I didn’t know what to do!” he stammered.

  I shook my head. “So you just stood here?”

  “I waited for you,” he said. “I was kind of scared.”

  Big help.

  “Get going,” I urged, glancing back across the street. “He may be chasing us.”

  We ran side by side, our breath steaming up into the cold night air. The houses and dark lawns whirred past in a gray-black blur. We didn’t say another word to each other.

  Three blocks later, I slowed down as we reached Chuck’s house. I leaned over and tried to shake away the sharp pain in my side. I always get a pain like that when I run more than a few blocks.

  “See you!” Chuck cried breathlessly. “Sorry you didn’t get your mask.”

  “Yeah. It’s too bad,” I murmured glumly.

  I watched him run along the side of his house until he disappeared around the back. Then I took a deep breath and took off again, jogging now, toward my house on the next block.

  My heart was still racing in my chest. But I was starting to feel calmer. The man in the black cape didn’t chase after us. In a few seconds, I would be safe in my own home.

  Halfway up our driveway, I slowed to a stop. The pain in my side had faded to a dull ache.

  I stepped into the yellow light from the front porch. I could hear my dog, Sparky, barking inside the house. Sparky knew I was home.

  As I climbed onto the front stoop, a smile crossed my face.