Strange Ghosts Read online

  "Come on," he said. "I promise I won't make fun of you."

  She snorted.

  "Really," he said. "I won't."

  "Well . . . I dreamed these three big scary creatures swooped out of the sky and carried me away. They were horrible! It was so . . . real. I really thought I was there. I bet you think it's pretty stupid, huh? Go ahead. I know you want to make fun of me."

  Jason was speechless. There was no way it could be a coincidence.

  "What?" Emily asked.

  Jason swallowed. "Hmm?"

  "What's with the look?"

  Jason realized he should have made fun of her. That was what she had been expecting, and because he didn't, she knew something was wrong. "What look?"

  "You're not telling me something," Emily said.

  "Don't be silly."

  "What is it?"

  "There's nothing," he insisted. "Look, it was just a dream. Forget about it, okay?"

  "Jason," she pleaded, "tell me what you—"

  "Leave me alone!"

  She looked as if he had slapped her. Yelling at her made him feel horrible, especially since she was scared, but he was scared himself. He put his tray aside and marched away, his drawing pad tucked under his arm. Off to the right of the porch he saw Mom's flower bed, overgrown with weeds, all the roses brown and withered. It made him sad.

  This was nuts. How could the drawing in his room match her dream? He walked through the carnival and found a place far from the action, sitting cross-legged on grass still moist from the morning dew. Behind him, the wind whispered through the pine trees, and he caught the smell of the lake on the breeze. He opened his pad and started immediately in on a drawing, the best way to take his mind off of something. He drew the first thing that came to mind: a giant fanged serpent consuming a carnival. Complete with little kids, of course. He went on drawing while crowds of kids arrived. Soon there was lots of laughter and happy yelling, and Jason refused to look up.

  He was so consumed in his work that he didn't notice Lenore approaching until he heard the flutter of her wings.

  "Mom talk!" Lenore screeched. "Mom talk!"

  She landed in front of Jason, the white handkerchief slipping so it slightly covered her eyes. He adjusted it for her.

  "What are you talking about?" he asked.

  "Mom talk! Talk!"

  "She's talking? Now?"

  Lenore bobbed her head. Astonished, Jason took off toward the house, Lenore flying right behind. At that moment, the light darkened and the air cooled. Looking up, he saw gray clouds moving in over the island. He couldn't remember even seeing a single cloud up there a few minutes ago.

  When he reached the stoop, he heard his sister's scream coming from up high. Startled, he turned, half-expecting to see his drawing brought to life. He was relieved to see her up on the Ferris wheel. When she cried out again, he saw that it was with joy, not terror. Two of her friends sat beside her—unlike Jason, Emily had lots of friends—and all of them were smiling.

  "Mom talk! Mom talk!"

  Lenore swooped past him, the door opening just in time. Jason raced inside, following Lenore up the staircase. Stepping onto the second floor, he saw that her door was open. He heard Mom calling to him in a scratchy whisper.

  "Jason . . . Jason . . ."

  His heart pounding, he imagined Mom rising out of her bed like a zombie. But when he reached her dark room, the shades drawn, he saw that she was still in bed. The air was stale. Thin beams of light, filled with dust motes, shined into the room from the cracks on either side of the shades. Mom was a thin and wasted crumple, hardly more than a wrinkle in the bedspread. She lay on her side, facing him.

  "Jason . . ." she said.

  She looked at him but didn't seem to see him; her blue eyes had faded over the last few months and were now mostly white. Her hair had been bright blond a year ago, but now it was mostly silver. One wasted hand emerged from the sheets, groping at the air. Her skin was the color of bone.

  Lenore landed on the headboard. "Mom wakes!" she squawked.

  "Jason . . .is that you?" Mom said.

  "I'm here," Jason said. But he didn't come closer.

  Her hand rose, and then, as if the effort exhausted her, fell limp. Outside, motors rumbled, metal creaked and clanked, and children laughed with glee. Inside, there was only his mother's raspy breathing. He noticed with alarm that Mom's eyes seemed to fade to complete white for a moment before a hint of blue returned. Sweat beaded on her forehead. Cautiously, he moved forward. He grabbed her hand, and her fingers felt like a twigs found in deep snow.

  "Mom?" he said.

  She closed her eyes. "I must . . ." she began, and then took several shallow breaths. "I must . . . tell you . . ."

  The beams of light from the window faded. She was so still that Jason thought she was gone.

  "Mom?" he said.

  She didn't answer.

  "Mom!"

  Finally, her eyes fluttered open. "Where's Emily?" she asked.

  "Emily? She's outside. It's her birthday. Do you want—"

  She clenched his hand and yanked him close. "Save her!" she cried. "Save her, Jason!" Her breath smelled awful. He tried to pull back, but her grip was amazingly strong. "I can't hold them back!" she said. "I've tried! They're coming. They want you and Emily."

  "Mom, what are you—"

  "Listen," she said frantically. "I should have told you. I thought I could spare you . . . give you . . . a normal life . . . I . . . oh . . ." She closed her eyes.

  "Mom!"

  She didn't move.

  "Mom, answer me!"

  Jason leaned over her, and then her eyes did open. They were as white as a blank page from one of his drawing pads. When she spoke, it was a whisper that grew fainter with each word.

  "Jason . . ." she said. "Jason . . . do not . . . draw . . . a . . . dark . . . way."

  This time, her eyes didn't close. For the longest time, she didn't blink, and then Jason realized she wasn't going to blink. Not ever again.

  "No," he said.

  The word was hardly out of his mouth when a boom shook the house. The window shattered, and he fell next to the bed. A gust of cold air, as cold as any winter wind he had ever felt, blew the curtains right off their rod and carried a stench into the room that was like the smell of wet, moldy leaves. He managed to rise to his knees just as the screaming started.

  A black fog thickened outside the window, darkening the bedroom. The screaming was coming from outside, dozens of different voices, parents and children alike. Another sound joined with the screams—a loud hissing, as if a hundred snakes all hissed at once. He pressed his palms against his ears, but the sound was so loud it brought tears to his eyes.

  Then he saw the demon face outside the window.

  Black skin blended with the fog, making it difficult to see the face except for its glowing eyes. But then the face moved closer, filling the window frame, and he saw the chalky black texture of the skin, the cracked lips. Two bone-colored horns, stained with blood, protruded from the top of its hairless head. Everything about the face shimmered and faded, as if it was part of the fog. The demon's lizard pupils darted back and forth until they settled on Jason. The hissing stopped, allowing Jason to uncover his ears, and then the mouth parted. Jason saw a smattering of broken yellow teeth.

  "Creator," it said in a croaking voice.

  Still clinging to Mom's lifeless hand, his legs trembling, Jason stood. The demon face reacted, jerking back, disappearing. Squawking, Lenore flapped past Jason's shoulder, her wingtips brushing his ear, and darted through the broken window into the fog. The hissing noise ceased, but the screaming continued. This time he heard a scream he recognized.

  Emily.

  He ran to the window. Up high it was starting to clear, blue below the fog was like a soup. Through the haze he saw the top of the Ferris wheel. Three demon creatures hovered around it, bobbing up and down as they flapped their wings. Vapors of fog twisted snake-like around their shimmering
bodies. The demon thing in the center plucked one of the riders from the top chair, clutching her in huge hands, the girl screaming. Even in the fog, Jason saw the cowboy hat.

  "Emily!" he shouted.

  All three creatures looked at him with their searing white eyes. Then, as if something frightened them, they shot upwards, the one in the middle still clutching his sister. Her hat flew off, her blond pony tail flapping in the wind. They soared up and out of the fog, and just for a second, before they ducked behind the trees not far away, he realized that what he was seeing at that moment was something he had seen before.

  It was exactly like his drawing.

  (...continued...)

  [To read the rest of

  Drawing a Dark Way,

  please visit your

  favorite online bookseller.]

  Also by Scott William Carter

  Novels:

  The Last Great Getaway of the Water Balloon Boys

  President Jock, Vice President Geek

  Drawing a Dark Way

  Wooden Bones (forthcoming)

  Short Story Collections:

  The Dinosaur Diaries

  A Web of Black Widows

  Tales of Twisted Time

  The Unity Worlds at War

  Strange Ghosts