Poltergeeks Page 6

  "Ha-ha," he said sourly.

  I blinked. "So what precipitated Mike Olsen's affections this time?"

  Marcus shrugged. "My very existence, I guess," he said quietly. "Thanks for the help, Julie, but this shit is going to continue. What just happened probably made it worse, actually."

  He was right.

  Mike Olsen wasn't about to slap around a girl, and since he'd been properly dressed down by yours truly, it meant that he'd be gunning for Marcus despite my threats. In defending Marcus, I'd embarrassed the meathead in front of a group of students and there was just no way in the world he was going to be fine and dandy with anything he'd view as a blight on his popularity.

  I walked with Marcus to his physics class and said little because I knew that deep down inside, he really wished he could stand up for himself. I mean, he'd be fine if a confrontation were on his terms, like a debate on physics or math. Unfortunately High School isn't about academics and the search for truth despite what our teachers say, so it was pretty clear my intervention just dropped Marcus down a few more notches despite my best intentions.

  "Are we still on for the Beltline?" I asked.

  Marcus slid the backpack off his shoulders. "Yep. I'll meet you at your locker after school and we'll take it from there."

  "See you then," I said.

  Marcus disappeared into his classroom and I walked through the second floor foyer leading to my first-period math class. It was time to do that calculus exam.

  Or so I thought.

  No sooner had I passed the large glass display case filled with Crescent Ridge High School's academic awards when I felt a series of thin jolts charge the atmosphere inside the foyer. I instinctively stopped dead in my tracks and held out my left hand. I shut my eyes and spread my fingers wide open, increasing my focus in the hope of determining the source. It felt eerily similar to the stew of energy at Mrs Gilbert's house, and just as before, I didn't sense any menace but there was something different about it. Like when you take a sip from a half-full bottle of cola that has been sitting in the fridge for a few days. It still tastes like cola, but the fizziness is gone.

  Students brushed past me on their way to class, drifting through web-like tendrils of energy like a warm breeze blowing through the leaves on a tree. I grated my teeth together and drew my focus into a dome of magic, and then I whispered, "Reveal."

  The artificial light in the foyer dimmed as I opened my eyes and peered through the magical veil. I could see vaporous lines of spectral energy woven together in an intricate pattern that clung to the ceiling and drooped down the foyer walls like the curtains in an opera house. Students appeared as faint shadows, their auras muted by a rhythmic pulsing of grey-green light that coursed along the ceiling and down the walls.

  I'd never seen anything like it before. Most supernatural energy emanates from a single source, usually a spirit that appears or disappears, often within the blink of an eye. What I was witnessing was a complex pattern of energies that implied a purpose, but what? Why the second floor foyer of a high school?

  My instincts told me to somehow interact with whatever I was seeing, but there was no way to do it in a bustling foyer full of students on their way to their first class of the day. I didn't know how long the apparition would last and the kind of interaction I was thinking of would take time, intense concentration and a little bit of luck.

  The sound of the first period bell cut through my focus like a jackhammer and my dome of magic disappeared. I could still feel the energy surrounding me and I decided that a decent grade on a calculus exam had to take priority. I let out a huge sigh, adjusted my backpack and plodded down the hall to my classroom.

  Stupid calculus.

  Chapter 8

  I was going to fail the calculus exam because I was distracted.

  Guilt generally has that effect on me.

  I felt like shit for embarrassing Marcus back at my house when he opened up about his feelings, but the guilt was just the after-effect of not knowing if I liked him the way he liked me. Added to this was the fact that in a few hours we'd be heading out to the Beltline. What was I supposed to do if Marcus decided to make a second attempt? Or worse, what would happen if he put his version of the moves on me? I'd already humiliated him once, and I didn't want it to happen for a second time. He deserved to know if I felt the same way; the only problem was that I needed time to think it through.

  And, I'll admit it, I'd probably have to ask Mom for help on this. Ugh.

  I'd just finished the second page of the bubble test (you know, the ones where you have to colour in the little multiple choice bubbles with an HP pencil) when I felt a slight supernatural ripple. I glanced down at my calculator and saw the LCD screen blink once, and then random numbers started appearing and disappearing, as if unseen fingers were punching the keys. I sat very still for a short moment as the same presence I'd felt in the foyer seemed to expand in size like a balloon that was being inflated.

  "What the hell?" I whispered. I looked up at the clock above the whiteboard and saw the hands spinning backward, as if the same unseen fingers that were messing with my calculator were now turning their attention to unwinding the clock. Just then, an almighty crash that sounded like a head-on collision blasted through the hallway. Everyone in the classroom jumped in their seats and turned their eyes to the door as Mr Dawson, my math teacher, leaped off his turquoise stool and raced for the exit.

  "What!" he gasped, as he stuck his head through the doorway and peeked out at the hall. "Impossible!"

  The entire class dropped their pencils and headed to the door, forcing Mr Dawson into the hallway. I pushed through the crowd and when I saw what everyone was gaping at, my jaw dropped.

  Every single locker on both sides of the hall had been turned upside down.

  I gulped as I watched students from the adjacent classrooms pour through their respective doorways and into the hall. Amid the gasps and collective profanities, I sensed a presence. A big one.

  I forced myself through a wall of dazed and dumbstruck students, and back to the foyer to find the glass display cases turned flipped over and the collection of academic trophies apparently defying gravity as they too were upside down instead of, you know, lying in a heap of broken glass and metal. I grunted as I stuck out my hand to feel the spectral energy pulsing away like a ticking time bomb. A stab of panic raced through the pit of my stomach so I dashed through the foyer to the east wing of the second floor and gulped again when I saw every locker stacked up on their sides like giant coloured building blocks.

  "Jesus!" I whispered. "What kind of freaking poltergeist is this?"

  I fumbled through my purse and grabbed my cell phone. Within seconds, Mom was on the line.

  "You're supposed to be in class, Julie," she said. "Is everything okay? Are you sick?"

  I tried to compose myself. "Mom, there's something huge going on at the school. Every locker is either upside down or stacked up on its side. There's a massive web of spectral energy in the foyer and everyone including me is seriously freaked out by this."

  There was dead air for a second and then my mom said, "Get everyone out of there now!"

  "What do you think it is?"

  "I have no idea but that kind of interaction with the mortal world spells trouble with a capital 'T'. They need to evacuate the school immediately. I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

  There was a hint of panic in my Mom's voice and that never happens. Naturally it scared the living shit out of me way more than the lockers or the spectral energy because Mom has dealt with supernatural phenomenon a lot longer than I have. Very simply, if it freaked Mom out then it had to be dangerous.

  If I was going to get everyone out of the school then I'd have to act fast. I tore down the hall until I spotted a fire alarm switch between two stacks of toppled lockers. I clenched my jaw and whispered, "Hexus". A bright orange shower of sparks flew out of the red and white switch, bouncing across the floor and the school fire alarm beeped so lou
d I could feel it in my fillings. Instinctively, all the students in the hall immediately began shoving one another to the nearest door. I spotted Marcus about to be run over as he bent down to pick up his backpack, so I ran interference between two head bangers and grabbed him by the collar.

  "Follow me," I ordered. "Take my hand and don't let go."

  The presence I'd felt only moments earlier was bearing down on the school like a smart bomb. I could see the east exit leading to the teachers' parking lot amid the huge gaggle of students and text messaged our location to my mom with one hand.

  "Poltergeist again, huh?" Marcus shouted in my ear.

  "Yes!" I shouted back. "A poltergeist from the blackest depths of you-know-where. My mother is on her way here."

  "They'll be talking about those lockers for months! Good luck to whoever tries to explain this one away!"

  I closed my cell phone and stuffed it back in my purse. "They won't be able to. This was a massive display of paranormal activity and I have to tell you, I'm beyond scared."

  It was at this point that Leila Belway, Crescent Ridge High's head cheerleader, came screaming out of the girls washroom, knocking me into a water fountain.

  "Everybody get out!" she shrieked, mascara running down her cheeks. "Oh my God, there's a dead guy in the girl's washroom!"

  The crowd of students spun around and stared at Leila for about two seconds and that's when panic really set in. Everyone in the hallway started shouting and screaming as the mob pushed forward in a mad dash to the east exit. Marcus grabbed me by my backpack and yanked me into the alcove of the girls' washroom just in time to keep me from being trampled to death. Seconds later, the temperature inside the hallway spiked up about twenty degrees as a wave of energy poured through the overheated corridor and I doubled over clutching my stomach.

  "Julie!" Marcus shouted, as he caught me before I did a face plant into the wall. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

  I shut my eyes tight as I gasped for air. "The spiritual energy in this building is laced with menace! I can feel its hatred, Marcus!"

  "We need to get out of here now!" he choked, as he helped me to my feet. "Are you okay to walk?"

  I opened my eyes to see the painted cinder block wall in front of me begin dripping ectoplasm in thin sticky threads that pooled at my feet. I tried to focus and could hear teachers were shouting for order but none of the students trying to escape from the building paid them any attention.

  And that's when I heard someone calling out from inside the girls' washroom.

  "Can you hear that?" I said, leaning on Marcus for support.

  "Yeah – someone's stuck in there," he said worriedly.

  I spun around on my heels and placed my left hand on the washroom door. "This is a targeted attack, Marcus. Ground zero is behind this door."

  "What do we do?"

  I could have grabbed one of the teachers but there would have been nothing they could do to help. My instincts told me I should sit tight and wait for my mother, but someone needed our help. I pushed down a tremor of fear in my chest and then reached into my purse and grabbed my amulet. "I'm going to try and get her out. I want you to head for the teachers' parking lot and find my mother."

  "Not a chance," he said, shaking his head. "If you're going in there, so am I."

  I wasn't going to argue because when Marcus digs his heels in there's no reasoning with him. I chewed my lip for a moment as I palmed my amulet. The atmosphere inside the alcove hummed with a supernatural force that raised the hairs on the back of my neck. The near-deafening beep of the school fire alarm stabbed at my brain like an ice pick, and I gave my head a hard shake.

  "Get behind me and crouch down," I said firmly.

  "How come?"

  "We need to get behind a veil," I said, gathering my magic. "We'll hang tight until the hallway clears or one of the teachers is going to spot us."

  "Gotcha," he said nervously.

  I focused my spirit into a ball of concentration and whispered, "Abscondus Occultus."

  Magical energies blanketed us in a thick shadow that blended into the darkness of the alcove. I peered out through the veil to see the throng of students pushing one another to the exit doors. I took a deep breath as I intensified my focus. Just as in the foyer, I could feel a percussive throbbing of spectral energy and this time there was a clear sense of purpose behind it. Sparks of supernatural force tantalized my senses and I could smell a combination of garlic mixed with a faint trace of rot, like a compost heap at the height of summer.

  We waited in silence until the hallway had emptied of students. When I was certain the coast was clear, I dropped the veil.

  "We're alone," I whispered. "You ready to go, Marcus?"

  He nodded. "Yep. Let's get whoever's stuck in there."

  "Agreed," I said firmly, as I took a deep breath and slowly pushed on the door. We waited a moment and then carefully poked our heads inside to look around.

  "No freaking way!" Marcus said.

  The temperature inside the bathroom had to be close to freezing as we could see our breath. There was a deafening clattering sound and our eyes were drawn to the four doors on the bathroom stalls that were repeatedly opening and slamming. I was about to step inside when Marcus stopped me.

  "Wait a minute," he said, pointing to the farthest stall. "I can hear her."

  I listened closely to the muted sobbing of a female voice. "We have to get to her."

  Marcus nodded and set one foot through the door. A trash can slid straight across the entrance to block his way.

  "Are you alright?" Marcus called out. "We're going to get you out of here!"

  The trash can floated about two feet in the air and hovered gently, as if the poltergeist was deliberately toying with us. I raised my magic and whispered the tiniest of hexes and the trash can immediately dropped to the floor, landing with a loud clang.

  "Are you injured?" I shouted. "I'm going to need you to make a run for it, okay?" At the sound of my voice, the slamming doors abruptly ceased.

  "I'm afraid to move," the voice sobbed.

  "Damn it, Marcus – that sounds like Marla!"

  Suddenly, as if someone had flipped Marcus into superhero mode, he raced into the bathroom. I didn't have time to stop him, so I ran to where my magical senses told me the source of the supernatural energy was coming from – the large mirror above the sinks. Marcus needed a diversion or he'd wind up in the same boat as whoever was trapped in the stall.

  "Hexus!" I shouted, sending a jolt of force that jetted across the tiled floor and straight into the mirror. Instead of shattering; the mirror absorbed my magical attack, sending liquid ripples across the glass like those from a stone being dropped into a pond.

  Marcus tried opening the door to the bathroom stall, but it wouldn't budge. He ran his hand along the painted steel surface like he was searching for a weak spot and he took a step backward as he drove his right foot into the middle of the door. It flew open and he disappeared into the stall, reappearing seconds later with Marla Lavik, the Goth queen of Crescent Ridge High School, hanging from his right shoulder like a sack of flour.

  "Back in a flash!" he huffed, as he ran past me. I doubled back to the doorway and it slammed shut with enough force to crack the doorframe in about three places. I felt a surge of paranormal energy that nearly took the breath from my lungs, so I span around on my heels, holding my amulet in front of me for protection. What I saw next at least confirmed Leila Belway's hysterical screaming about a dead guy in the bathroom.

  Seated on the counter was a wispy vaporous form of a man who looked like he belonged in the era of Charles I. On his head was a tall crowned, slightly conical hat and he was dressed in a doublet with silver dollar-sized buttons. He wore a blank expression as he drew his near-transparent hands to his breast pockets and turned to look at me. "Who are you?" I asked, stepping inside the washroom. The spectral vision cocked its head and gave me a curious look. It slid off the countertop and floated about a foot off the f
loor, its unblinking eyes fixed on me. I took a tentative step forward and asked again. "What is your name, spirit?"

  The apparition's body pivoted in mid-air and then it raised its hand and pointed to the large stainlesssteel-framed mirror above the row of sinks. Suddenly, a thick grey vapour billowed out from the sink's drains. The spirit opened its mouth to say something as the cloud formed a thick steamy mist that clung to the mirror like a shadow. It pointed a bony, vaporous index finger at the center of the mirror and then gracefully started to make swirling motions, like it was conducting an invisible orchestra.

  Another jolt of cold force pushed through my body as a series of words took form on the mirror's mist covered surface.