The Hanging Hill

98

Mr. Kimble crawled through the trapdoor first.

“I’ll go phone the police!” he shouted down the ladder to Zack. “Meet me at the stage manager’s desk! It’s behind the black curtains stage right!”

“Hurry!” said Zack. He hauled himself up the final four rungs of the ladder, came up through the trapdoor.

The curly-haired ghost was waiting for him.

“Hello, Zack.”

He could finally see her face.

It looked just like it did in the theater program.

Young and happy.

His mother.

His real mother. Susan Potter. When she was in her twenties and her hair was wild and curly, not flat and straight like Zack remembered it. This was his mother before Zack had been born. Before she had even met his dad.

“It’s so good to see you again. Let me look at you!”

Zack retreated two steps. Bumped up against some ropes and sandbags.

“W-w-what do you want?” he stammered.

“To help you! That’s why I moved the gloves. To point the way to the statue! Then I led you to the trunk and protected you from Lilly Pruett and helped you find the hidden script. Don’t you see, Zack? I want to help you and Judy.”

“You leave Judy alone!”

“No, Zack. You don’t understand. I’m trying to …”

“Shut up! I know what you’re trying to do!”

For a moment, the ghost of his dead mother said nothing. Then she smiled. “You were always so different, Zack. So very special.”

Was she mocking him?

“I think it’s because you were born under a full moon.”

Oh, yeah. She might be dead, but she was still the same.

“You should be downstairs, Zack. He can’t complete the ritual without children born under a full moon.”

So that was why she’d saved him from Lilly Pruett. She was making some kind of deal with Moloch. Offering Zack as another kid to be fed into the fire.

“You were spying on me at the hotel back in North Chester, weren’t you?”

“No, Zack.”

“You were there with that guy in the electric chair! He called you Doll Face.”

“Yes, but…”

“Is Mad Dog Murphy one of your new pals?”

“No, Zack.”

“Yeah, right. You broke the picture frame in my room, didn’t you?”

“I’m sorry.”

“You could only do that if you were really, really mad.”

“Or happy.”

“No, you’re mad because I’m finally happy!”

Her terrifying smile broadened. “Are you, Zack?”

“Absolutely!” He spat the word at her. “Happier than I ever was with you!”

And then Zack figured it out.

“You hate that, don’t you? You hate that I’m happy!”

“No, Zack.”

“You’re lying! I know what you’re trying to do! You’re trying to slow me down! You want Judy dead!”

“No, Zack. Listen …”

“Shut up, you wicked witch! I didn’t kill you and I won’t let you kill Judy or Meghan or even Derek!”

The ghost of his mother stopped smiling.

“I’m sorry, Zack.”

“Why? Because I figured out your stupid plan?”

Susan Potter disappeared as quickly as the fog off a mirror when you throw open the bathroom door.

Hah! Got her!

One demon down, who knew how many more to go?

“Zack!” It was Mr. Kimble. Off in the shadows. “Help!”