The Black Heart Crypt Page 15

  “There is no noise because we are surrounded by forest, Father. The trees swallow up all sound.” Jack the Lantern once more raised his double pistols. “By the by, that evil omen you spoke of will prove true. Someone will, indeed, die at this house tonight. You.”

  The devil squeezed the triggers. Two flints sparked.

  Father Abercrombie heard the roar of the twin gunpowder blasts.

  And then he heard nothing.

  “Try to get some rest, you guys,” Judy said to Zack and Zipper as she switched off the lights in the basement rumpus room. “I have a feeling tomorrow’s going to be a busy day.”

  “So no school?” asked Zack from the sofa bed.

  “No. Your dad and I just discussed it on the phone. Too many Icklebys had ‘hurt Zack Jennings’ on their To Do List. Barnabas probably does, too.”

  Zack nodded. “Payback for Dad’s aunts yanking out his tooth.”

  “Exactly. So you and Zip are with me until the police arrest Norman Ickes.”

  Zack was exhausted and quickly fell asleep.

  He had a horrible dream about mice playing card games in coffins with crazed cats, followed by another, featuring headless skeletons being chased by a demented dentist screaming, “Did you floss between your ribs?”

  Around three in the morning, Zack woke up when he once again heard heavy panting and the sloppy sound of dribbling dog drool.

  He peeled open an eye and looked over at the battered lounge chair. His grandfather was sitting there, petting the slobbering Black Shuck dog, who had dimmed his eyeballs to an orangish night-light glow.

  “Hey, Grandpa.”

  “Zack. How you holding up, champ?”

  “Pretty good, I guess. Your sisters sent a dozen Ickleby souls on to, well, wherever it is souls like that go. But now we have to find the black heart stone we gave to Norman so we can seal up Barnabas, who everybody thought was a good guy, but, it turns out, he’s where the evil all started.”

  Grandpa Jim nodded.

  “But,” said Zack, “there’s only one problem: Nobody knows where the black heart stone is except Norman or Barnabas or maybe this ghost named Crazy Izzy Ickleby, but your sisters already sent him away and …”

  Zack saw a strange look flicker across his grandfather’s sparkling blue eyes.

  “What?” he said. “Do you know where Crazy Izzy hid the stone?”

  Now Grandpa Jim squirmed in his chair.

  “Even if I do, Zack, I can’t come right out and tell you.”

  “Are those guys upstairs ever going to change these stupid rules? Because I gotta tell you, Grandpa, they sure make dealing with demons a whole lot harder than it has to be.”

  “And when I tell you about the stone, should I tell you who thinks you’re the cutest boy in the whole sixth grade?”

  “Well, you don’t have to tell me everything. You can definitely skip the mushy junk.”

  “I’m trying to make a point here, Zack.”

  “I know. Oh, did you hear? My real mother popped by for a visit.”

  “I know.” Grandpa Jim leaned forward and looked around to make sure nobody was listening (even though nobody else was in the basement, just the two dogs). “You should listen to what your mother told you tonight.”

  “Really?”

  “She isn’t like she used to be, champ. Dying changes a person. Makes them regret the mistakes they made when they were alive.”

  “Have you seen her?”

  “No. But, well, I’ve heard things. Susan Potter is working hard, trying to …”

  Zack heard the distant rumble of thunder.

  Grandpa Jim shook his head. “I swear, they have ears everywhere.”

  “What? Who?”

  “Nothin’. I said too much.” Grandpa Jim started to fade into his chair, the dog into the carpet. “Listen to what your mother told you, Zack. Right before she vanished. Listen good!”

  The Black Shuck dog disappeared.

  Grandpa Jim lingered for a moment longer, worry lines creasing his face.

  Then he vanished, too.

  No way could Zack go right back to sleep.

  So he climbed up the stairs and headed for the kitchen. Zipper padded after him.

  They could both use a snack, maybe some milk that wasn’t chocolate, which was all they had in the basement fridge.

  You should listen to what your mother told you.

  Okay. That was a clue of some kind. The only hint Grandpa Jim could give (on account of the rules) without being sent to the big detention hall in the sky.

  Zack gave Zipper a dog biscuit. Poured himself a glass of milk. When he sat down at the table to drink it and stare out the windows, Zipper hopped up into his lap, leaving the bone-shaped biscuit on the floor.

  Zack figured his dog had seen enough bones for one night. He stroked the fur behind Zip’s ears and thought.

  What had his mother said?

  I’m different. I made mistakes.

  Then she sort of sounded like she was begging for forgiveness.

  Need … to … make … amends!

  “Amends” had been on Zack’s vocabulary test the past week. That she had used that word meant she wanted to apologize by making up for her mistakes, compensating Zack for damages and injury.

  Was that why she had also appeared at the Hanging Hill Playhouse over the summer?

  To help him?

  Maybe she’d stuffed her soul inside her sister’s body and come all the way to North Chester to make amends but she never got the chance because the three aunts sent her packing.

  Was his real mother a different person, like Grandpa Jim had said, now that she was dead and could look back on all the bad things she had done when she was alive?

  Zack stared out the kitchen windows. The backyard was dark. A single yellow bug light glowed over the deck. Some leaves swirled in a corner behind the cold barbecue grill, which was covered up and ready to hibernate for the winter.

  Tink, tink, tink.

  A black-beaked bird was tapping, gently rapping at the patio door.

  “Haw!” the bird croaked. “Haw-haw-haw!”

  Its black eyes glistened like oil.

  Weird as it seemed, Zack thought he recognized the bird. Its laugh. Its cackle. It was the same raven that had been circling over the corn maze when he and Malik had gotten lost and bumped into the ghost of Mad Dog Murphy.

  “Haw!”

  “Grrrrr!”

  Zipper jumped to the floor so he could snarl at the big black bird on the other side of the sliding glass door.

  “Easy, Zip,” said Zack. “He’s outside. He can’t hurt us.”

  When he said that, the bird lofted up off the deck, its massive wingspan blotting out the glow from the overhead porch light.

  “Haw-haw-haw-haaaaw!”

  Now the raven was laughing at Zack for thinking it couldn’t hurt him.

  The next morning, before first light, Jack the Lantern was back in Satan’s saddle, his trusty guide bird perched on his bent arm.

  “Take me to the boy!” he shouted as he tipped his elbow up to launch the raven.

  The bird unfurled its wings and took flight, its midnight blackness nearly disappearing against the starry predawn sky.

  The highwayman clicked his heels into his horse’s flanks and Satan trotted toward the gates of Spratling Manor. Jack the Lantern threw back his head and laughed.

  It was November 2.

  The day Zachary Jennings would die.

  Zack was still in bed but already wide awake when Judy came down to the basement at seven a.m.

  “I sent Mrs. Emerson an email last night, after you guys went to bed,” she said. “I asked her if she knew anything about this Jack the Lantern.”

  “What’d she find out?”

  “Seems he was a notorious highwayman.”

  “Is that a toll collector or something?”

  “No. A highwayman, back in olden days, was a thief who preyed on travelers. They’d attack stagecoaches or
mail wagons. Some were like Robin Hood. They stole from the rich and gave to the poor.”

  “And Jack the Lantern?”

  “Very un–Robin Hoodish. He dressed all in black and always wore a terrifying burlap mask with holes to make him look like a jack-o’-lantern.”

  “Is that how he got his name? Jack the Lantern?”

  “Partially. He also used to toss firebombs in front of carriages to spook the horses so he could stop a coach, slay the driver, steal the passengers’ gold, and snatch baubles off the ladies.”

  Judy hesitated.

  Zack knew that whatever she said next wasn’t going to be good.

  “Then he’d kidnap any children.”

  Zack’s mouth went dry. “Why?”

  “Well, if the families were wealthy, he’d ransom them back.”

  “And if they weren’t so rich?”

  “He’d sell the children as slave labor to factory owners and ship captains.”

  “And nobody knew Jack was really Barnabas Ickleby?”

  “Nope. He fooled everybody for nearly three hundred years.”

  Suddenly, a horse whinnied out on the front lawn.

  That was very bizarre.

  Nobody in the neighborhood had a horse.

  Aunt Ginny had woken up before anybody else in the house.

  She knew that the most evil Ickleby of them all was now controlling the body of Norman Ickes and that Barnabas would soon come gunning for Zachary.

  So Virginia Jennings, who had battled foul spirits and bullying demons all her life, would be prepared.

  She quickly lit the jack-o’-lanterns lined up on the front porch railings, and then, very calmly, sat down in a rocking chair with another glowing pumpkin on her lap.

  Moments later, the villain showed himself.

  His glimmering black stallion pawed its hooves in the front lawn and snorted loudly. But it wouldn’t move closer.

  Not as long as the jack-o’-lanterns are lit. It can’t. The illuminated gourds protect the house from all evil spirits, human or equine.

  “Good morning, you wretched old woman!” shouted the rider with the hideously grinning face cut into his mask. “Where is the boy? Where is Zachary Jennings?”

  A shiny black raven sat perched on the dark rider’s shoulder like a villainous parrot.

  “Why are you so interested in Zack, Norman?”

  “Why do you call me that inglorious name when you now know who I truly am?”

  “You mean Barnabas the leech?”

  “Leech?”

  “That’s right. You’re nothing but a freeloading, life-sucking parasite. A dybbuk clinging on to your distant relative’s body because you’re too chicken to move on to your eternal reward or, in your case, eternal punishment!”

  “You dare call me a coward?”

  “Yes, Norman. I just did.”

  “You shall pay for your words, you horrid hag.”

  “How?” Ginny held up the glowing pumpkin. “Are you and your horsey going to come up here and hurt me? Of course not. You’re afraid of pumpkins, too!”

  Hannah and Sophie came out on the porch.

  “Oh, my,” gasped Sophie. “Is that him?”

  “Yes, dear,” said Ginny in a tense stage whisper. “Did you bring the exorcism powders?”

  Hannah was carrying Ginny’s carpetbag. “It’s all in here. For heaven’s sake, sister, why do you taunt him?”

  “It amuses me.”

  “Does he have the black heart stone?” asked Sophie.

  “Aunt Ginny?” It was Zack. He and Judy were at the front door.

  “Stay inside, dear. You too, Judy. We’ll take care of this.”

  “I’m going to call the police,” said Judy.

  “No. Not yet. Soon that creature on the horse will be nothing more than a dazed and confused hardware-store clerk who will, hopefully, remember where they had him hide the black heart stone. Give us a minute.”

  “One minute,” said Judy.

  Ginny stood up from the rocking chair and turned her back to Jack the Lantern so she could consult with her two sisters.

  “We shall initiate the exorcism.”

  “How?” asked Hannah.

  “We can startle him with his false reflection from up here. I’ll work the mirror. Hannah, you take the horn. Sophie, stand by with the powder. Once we have spiritual separation, we can sage Barnabas and begin the banishment incantation.”

  “I’ll ask you one last time, ladies!” shouted Jack the Lantern. “Where is the boy? Where is young Zachary Jennings?”

  Ginny twirled around.

  “He’s busy!”

  “Doing what?”

  “Getting ready for school!” shouted Sophie. “The bus will be coming along shortly to pick him up.”

  Jack tugged up on the reins. His black stallion pranced sideways. “Why, thank you, Sophia. How silly of me to forget. The big yellow carriage full of children that I have seen pass Haddam Hill so many times.”

  “Oops,” peeped Sophie, putting her hand to her mouth. “I think I just made a boo-boo.”

  Jack pulled a pistol out of his belt, aimed it at Ginny.

  “And just who do you think you’re scaring with that, coward?” said Aunt Ginny defiantly.

  “Your glowing gourds might stop me from coming up on that porch, sorceress, but they cannot stop my bullet!”

  The raven perched on the masked man’s shoulder squawked and flapped its wings.

  Ginny reached into her carpetbag. Whipped out the stainless steel signal mirror.

  Before she could use it, she heard a gun explode.

  The pistol ball smacked Ginny hard.

  The silvery mirror fell from her hand with a clatter.

  Ginny felt a searing pain in her chest as the world began to spin.

  “Oh, my,” she squeaked.

  And then she toppled to the floor.

  As the old crone fell to her knees, Jack the Lantern threw back his head and cackled his lunatic laugh. Satan reared up on his hind legs and roared triumphantly.

  “Away!” the masked highwayman cried. “Away!”

  He tugged up on the reins hard. The horse wheeled right.

  “Back to the crypt! Fly!”

  He gave a swift kick, and with a jangle of stirrups, the horse broke into a full gallop.

  Jack the Lantern would kidnap all the children crammed into the yellow carriage when it passed Haddam Hill.

  He would demand a king’s ransom for their safe return.

  And once he had the money?

  He would slay them all so none could bear witness against him.

  But he would slay Zachary Jennings first!

  Zack was kneeling on the porch, holding Aunt Ginny’s hand.

  “Don’t worry, dear,” she mumbled, a pained smile on her face. “It’s only a flesh wound.”

  “The ambulance is on its way!” shouted Judy, who had called 911.

  “Put this poultice on it,” said Hannah, pressing a moist mass of cloth and herbs on the bloody bullet hole.

  Aunt Ginny winced. “Ouch. Not so much pressure, dear.”

  “Hush,” said Aunt Sophie. “Save your strength.”

  “Malik,” mumbled Zack.

  “What?” said Judy.

  Zack motioned for his mom to join him where the aunts couldn’t hear what they were talking about.

  “What if, somehow, Jack the Lantern knows about the gold and the reward? What if Norman, somehow, told him? Malik will definitely be one of the kids he grabs first!”

  “Run inside. You call Malik. I’ll call your dad. Hurry!”

  “Hello?”

  “Malik?”

  “Hi, Zack. Everything okay?”

  “Don’t go to school today.”

  “Why not?”

  “Norman Ickes may be coming to get you.”

  “What?”

  “Well, he’s not really Norman right now.”

  “But …”

  “Look, I gotta run. The ambulanc
e is here.”

  “Ambulance?”

  “Yeah. Norman just shot Aunt Ginny. I’ll call you again when we’re at the hospital. Bye.”

  Zack clicked off.

  Malik stared at the phone.

  Norman Ickes, his puzzle pal, had shot Zack’s elderly aunt?

  Malik turned on the early-morning TV news.

  “This just in,” said the reporter, “Norman Ickes strikes again. Moments ago, the local hardware-store clerk, wanted for yesterday’s robberies at Stansbury Stables and the Hi-Way 31 Eat and Run, appeared on horseback and shot an elderly woman who …”

  Malik snapped off the TV.

  Zack was right.

  He needed to stay home from school today.

  At Aunt Ginny’s request, Zack and Judy rode in the back of the ambulance with her and the paramedic who had bandaged her shoulder wound.

  A police car carrying Aunts Hannah and Sophie was right behind them.

  “Do I look like a scuba diver, Zack?” asked Aunt Ginny, her voice weak. She had an oxygen tube stuck up her nostrils.

  Zack smiled. “Sort of.”

  “Good. I always wanted to go scuba diving.”

  “Ma’am?” said the paramedic, who was holding her wrist, checking her pulse. “You need to take it easy, okay?”

  “Yes, dear. Of course.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

  “Judy?”

  “Yes?”

  “Take my purse.” She gestured toward the bulging carpetbag.

  “I’ll keep an eye on it for you.”

  “No. You need to take my place.”

  “But …”

  “The circle must number three, Judy. You, Sophie, and Hannah.”

  Judy nodded. She understood.

  “Everything you need is in that bag.”

  Aunt Ginny was wheezing now.

  “Zack?” He had to lean down to hear her.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “This is why I tricked you and your friends into opening the black heart stone: I knew that I, and my sisters, would one day die, that our confinement spell would then be broken. The Icklebys would escape.… I ’m sorry … I …”

  “Okay,” said Judy, touching Zack on his back. “Let Ginny rest, hon.”