The Haunting by Rodman Philbrick Read Free Book Online

across my lips.
    I wolfed down the rest of the burger, trying to think how I’d get back at Steve for that stupid story. It would have to be something really good. Lock him in the attic for a couple of hours, maybe.
    I was on my way up to my bedroom to change for a swim when I remembered about the trash cans. Right. Check out the basement.
    The basement door was off the kitchen. I hadn’t been down there yet. I wondered if anyone had. Maybe my dad, looking for screens. Or maybe not, he’d been pretty busy setting up the office.
    Go on, get it over with. What’s the big deal?
    I opened the basement door and peered down into the dark. The air coming up out of the basement was cold and dank. There was a light switch by the door. I flipped it on and was relieved to see the stairs spring into view all the way to the shadowy bottom.
    The steps were old and worn, rounded at the edge of each tread. I started down. The stairs creaked loudly. The musty smell grew stronger and the air colder.
    I couldn’t find another light switch at the bottom of the stairs. There was only the one bare bulb hanging on a wire from the ceiling, and it was pretty dim. It didn’t look as if anybody had been down here in years. Cobwebs hung off the light-bulb.
    I stood at the bottom of the stairs and looked around. The basement was big and it was full of old boxes and things that cast strange shadows.
    Way in the back I spotted something that looked like a trash can.
    My nerves were on edge, but there was nothing to be scared of, right? Right? So I worked my way over to where I’d seen the trash can. Or something that looked like a trash can. What else could it be?
    A long snaky shadow reared up at me. I jumped, but it turned out to be a floor lamp.
    The next step my foot sank into something soft. I jumped back and kicked at it. An old pillow.
    The farther I got from the safety of the stairs—and the small pool of light from the single bulb—the more it felt as if I was entering another world. A world full of small, secret, furtive sounds and creatures hidden beyond the reach of my eyes. A world that thrived in the shadows and in years of layers of dust.
    I let out my breath when I got to the trash can. I didn’t belong down here with all these creepoid shadows and I was going to leave, right now.
    I picked up the trash can. And it started to shake.
    A thumping, drumming noise started up—inside the can!
    I tried to let go, but my hands were stuck to the handles. I went nuts trying to get loose, and finally the can fell with a clang, tipping onto its side.
    A tiny, terrified mouse escaped, running for its life. Just a mouse!
    I slumped in relief. Then I wiped my sticky hands on my shorts and picked the trash can up again, peeking cautiously inside. Empty. The startled mouse must have been flinging itself around in blind panic. It made a lot of noise for such a little thing—must have been amplified by the metal sides of the can. Yeah, that was it.
    Scared by a stupid little mouse—good thing Steve wasn’t here to see that.
    I dragged the can back across the floor, making enough noise to drown out any other scuttling mice. It felt safer when I reached the circle of light. At the bottom of the stairs I looked up.
    For some reason the stairway looked longer from down here. Maybe because of the dim light. Some kind of optical illusion. Whatever, I was heading back up right that very minute, anxious to return to the daylight.
    As I heaved the can up the stairs, the shadows seemed to be pulling me backwards, as if they wanted me to stay down there in the dark.
    Was that the shadows sighing?
    I paused, holding stock-still. Something was making a sighing noise. What was it?
    I heard breathing. Ragged breathing
    Something coughed.
    It was right under me. There was somebody hiding under the stairs!
    I started to run up the stairs.
    But I didn’t get far.
    An icy hand reached up between the treads and snagged