Haunted Island by Joan Lowery Nixon

Author:Joan Lowery Nixon [Nixon, Joan Lowery]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-4532-8267-0
Publisher: Open Road
Published: 2012-09-21T15:31:00+00:00

9

“DON’T SAY THINGS LIKE THAT!” Amy took a step closer to Chris and clutched Amelia’s journal tightly.

“Don’t you feel it?”

They paused, and as they listened the silence was broken by the sound of something moving in the room they had left.

“Let’s get out of here!” Amy cried.

“We haven’t got what we need!” Chris said. He whirled back to the doorway between the two rooms, staring into the living room of the house. “There’s no one here, Amy. It must have been an animal that we heard.”

“What kind of animal?”

“I don’t know. Maybe a—” Chris stopped.

“Go on. Say it,” Amy demanded. “You were going to say ‘maybe a rat,’ weren’t you? Well, I don’t want to stay in a house with a rat any more than I want to stay in a house with a ghost! Let’s go!”

“In a minute,” Chris said. There was a cupboard at one side of the room, and he threw open the doors. Inside was a jumble of pots and bowls, many of them broken. “Nothing here,” he said.

“Then we haven’t got a reason for staying here.”

Chris turned and examined the rest of the kitchen. Nearby stood a door. “The cellar’s down there,” he said.

“You’re not going into the cellar,” Amy said.

“Yes, I am,” Chris told her. “I have to find something.”

“Joshua Hanover didn’t want anyone in his cellar!”

“Don’t get so excited. He didn’t want anyone down there, because that’s where he kept his money. But the money isn’t there anymore.” He added, “For that matter, neither is Joshua Hanover.”

Chris tugged at the door, which was warped and hard to budge.

“I’m not going down there with you,” Amy said.

“You don’t have to.”

The door suddenly gave, flying open so suddenly that Chris staggered backward.

“You haven’t got a flashlight. You won’t be able to see anything down there.”

But Chris was already on the stairs. “There’s enough light from the room to see some of the cellar. It’s not very big.”

Chris guessed that the cellar was about the size of the house. Much of it was in darkness, but he was able to see the section near the stairs. The room had been cut from the earth, with wooden cross supports against the walls. They were covered with mildew. Patches of damp, dark moss splattered the walls, and the cellar smelled sour and wet. The wooden stairs seemed to be still sturdy, although they wobbled a little when Chris tried them.

“What’s in the cellar?” Amy asked.

“Come and look.”

“No,” Amy said, but Chris heard her move down a few stairs behind him.

Near his feet he heard a rustling noise. He quickly looked toward the sound and saw two small bright eyes. In a flash they were gone. Rats! He hoped Amy hadn’t noticed.

“There are some shelves on the wall near the stairs,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady, “but they’re empty. A lot of the stuff that was kept down here must have been knocked to the floor during the earthquakes. There’s broken stuff all over the floor.”

“What are you looking for?” Amy asked.

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