wall. Her hand touched something wet and slimy.
And then she heard dry fluttering overhead, like hundreds of tiny umbrellas opening all at once.
Something brushed her face. Something furry. She screamed!
âHelp me! Somebodyâhelp me! Get me out! Out of here!â
The tunnel vibrated with the sound of a thousand flapping wings.
The footsteps crunched closer.
Screaming for help, Maggie ran into another cold, wet wall.
A dead end.
Iâm trapped, she realized.
chapter
19
M aggie pressed her back up against the wall as if she could push her way through the rock.
The footsteps pounded closer.
Overcome with terror, she collapsed to her knees.
She listened hard, too frightened to move. Any second, she knew, her attacker would appear and the knife would come down out of the darkness.
Now!
Orâ
Now!
But nothing happened.
Breathing hard, her side aching, she climbed back to her feet.
The dream is real, she thought again. And my life is the dream.
Then she heard the footsteps again, very close. She pressed back helplessly against the rock.
The footsteps stopped. A flash of light.
The knife?
No. A flashlight played over her face.
âMags?â A boyâs voice, unsteady, muffled in the heavy wet air.
The flashlight burned into her eyes.
âHey, are you okay?â
She felt a strong hand grab her arm, pull her to her feet.
âJustin?â
âMaggieâwhy did you run?â he asked breathlessly, still holding her arm. âI came searching for you. I called your name.â
âI didnât hear. I only heard your footsteps,â Maggie said, still trembling.
âEveryone is outside, waiting at the bus,â he told her. âYou were missing, soâ¦â
âI got lost,â she told him, leaning against him.
âYeah, well, everyoneâs real worried about you,â Justin said. âLetâs get out of here.â
She held on to him as he led the way out of the tunnel. Maggie heard the flap of batsâ wings. She held her breath and kept walking.
âIâI thought you were the killer,â she blurted out.
âWhat killer?â
âFrom my dream.â
She instantly regretted telling him. She could feel his muscles tighten.
His expression hardened. âMaggie, I hope youâre not starting up with that dream stuff again,â he murmured.
Maggie stopped near one of the lights mounted inthe slimy cavern wall. The eerie glow of the naked bulb made Justinâs normally handsome face look like a skull. âSorry,â Maggie whispered.
They walked the rest of the way out of the cave in silence.
Maggie strode quickly down the sidewalk. She didnât really know why she was in such a hurry. There was no reason to rush home.
One day had passed. She hadnât seen the ghost again, hadnât dreamed the dream. But the fear was always with her, there in the creepy old house, there at night in the canopy bed. She didnât want to talk to anyone, see anyone.
âMaggie!â someone called behind her.
She picked up her pace, pretending she hadnât heard.
âHey, Mags! Slow down!â Justin appeared at her side, jogging to keep up. âSlow down! Whatâs up?â
Why was he pretending everything was okay between them? He hadnât said a word to her since the day before in the cave.
âNothingâs up,â she muttered, walking fast.
âAre you okay?â he asked.
âYou mean, am I crazy?â she asked sharply.
He reacted as if he were stung. He grabbed her shoulder and made her stop. âI saw you werenât in school this morning. So I was worried.â
âI had a doctorâs appointment,â Maggie said.
âA doctorâs appointment? You sick?â
âSick in the head,â she muttered bitterly.
âYou saw a shrink?â
She nodded.
Dr. Brenda Marsh was a soft-spoken, fortyish psychiatrist whom Mrs. Travers had seen a couple of times
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