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Ollie didn’t know what to do.
Think, she ordered herself furiously. Think!
Well, she needed to get out of the basement first, Ollie decided. She couldn’t get back through the mirror in a basement that, as far as she could see, didn’t have any mirrors.
Cautiously, Ollie reached for the lamp. The light would come in handy. But before she touched it, Ollie thought she heard a creaking from the stairs above her. The bear? Mother Hemlock? Were they chasing her after all?
Thud. Thud. Definitely footsteps.
She had to hide, Ollie thought. Disoriented, she looked frantically around. The lamplight ruined her night vision, and the shadows were deceptive. And even if she did hide, would the dead bear be able to smell her?
Well, if it could, she couldn’t help it now. Ollie ducked behind another bank of lockers, trying to get out of range of the lamplight.
For a second, she crouched alone in the shadows, panting.
Then a thin, high, whispering voice spoke out of the darkness.
“You shouldn’t have come here,” it said.
* * *
—
Coco stepped cautiously down a creaking flight of wooden steps. The Ouija board was clamped tight under one arm. “Brian?” she called, her voice small and fragile in the darkness. “Brian?”
No sound. No answer. Distantly she thought she heard a howl. The coyotes? Her heart beat faster. She really hoped that Brian was okay. The stairs were narrow and wooden. Splinters snagged on her socks. It was almost completely dark. Far below, a single yellowish light burned. It barely illuminated the stairwell. She had to go carefully so she wouldn’t trip. She took a cautious step down. Another.
It was hard to make out the walls, because of the darkness. But she could, a little. Coco slowed, then stopped.
There was writing on the walls. A lot of writing.
COCO, said the walls. COCO COCO COCO, blurring the letters of her name over and over and over. Then U LEFT ME U FORGOT ME I HATE U I HATE U.
Despite herself, Coco cowered back from the ugly words. Maybe Brian had been in one of those closets and she had just left him . . .
Wait, was it Brian’s handwriting? Was it Ollie’s? Coco swallowed hard. That was dumb. Why would either of them be writing on a stairwell? “It’s a trick,” she whispered. “A trick, a trick.”
She didn’t know what kind of tricks the smiling man could do. Another piece of knowledge she wished she had. She’d beaten him at chess, but he’d tricked her and Brian into separating, hadn’t he? If it was him, making the hall endless and full of Brian’s voice, making dead coyotes chase them, putting writing on the basement wall, then what else could he do?
Coco swallowed back fear. If she panicked now, she’d be like a climber on a cliff face, stuck in the middle, afraid to go up, afraid to descend.
She started down the stairs again. Down and down she went. The stairs seemed to go on forever.
Suddenly Coco felt a gust of icy air from above. Then she heard running footsteps come thundering down behind her.
Coco spun around, pressed herself against a wall, her heart in her mouth.
She didn’t see anyone at all. But she still heard footsteps. She instinctively flattened herself to the wall, as close as she could. The footsteps ran straight past her and kept going down into the basement.
All went quiet once more. Coco stood frozen with indecision.
The watch beeped again. Coco had almost forgotten it in her terror.
She whispered, “Should I go down?”
Two beeps. YES.
She didn’t want to go down. Maybe it was the smiling man after all, maybe he knew all about Ollie and that was who was making the watch beep. “Ollie hates Brussels sprouts, doesn’t she?” Coco whispered.
