Ready for a Scare? by P.J. Night Page A

spotlight with her free hand. Her gaze darted toward the door by the desk, hidden in the darkness. “She saysshe’s down there. In the basement.”
    â€œSo let’s go.” He turned toward the door.
    â€œNo.” She reached out and actually touched his arm to stop him.
    â€œHuh? Why?” Shadows danced across his confused face.
    â€œShe’s not alone. Someone is with her. Someone has her trapped.”
    â€œBut shouldn’t we help her?” Gavin asked. For the first time, she heard panic in his voice.
    â€œYes, but . . .” One big part of her wanted to race across the kitchen and fling open that door and pull her friend to safety. But then there was that other part of her. The part that had listened to countless “never open the door to strangers” lectures from her parents, the part that had seen those late-night scary movies where opening a door meant walking right into evil, and the part that was scared .
    Her thoughts were interrupted as a strange whirring that filled the kitchen. Then a beep. And another. In a rush, the lights flooded on and the appliances came back to life.
    In the brightness, she immediately knew what to do. Paige was her best friend. She had to help her.
    She moved quickly to the basement door.
    â€œSo we’re going down?” Gavin asked, his voice loud. He stood by her side.
    â€œShh,” she warned. “And yes.” She had decided.
    She peered at the crack at the bottom of the door. No light seeped out of it. The basement was dark, even with the power back on. Her hand rested on the doorknob.
    Fear overcame her. She couldn’t turn it. What was she walking into? Was she being stupid? Anything could be waiting for her behind that door.
    â€œWeapon,” she whispered. “We need a weapon.”
    Her eyes scanned the area by them. An umbrella stood propped by the back door. It was pointy but seemed silly. She knew there were mops and brooms in the cleaning closet off the back mudroom leading to the garage, but she couldn’t imagine what good those would do. She had no idea what she was looking for.
    Gavin raised his eyebrows. “You—you think we’ll need a weapon?” he stammered.
    â€œI don’t know what we’ll need,” she shot back, her anxiety peaking. “I don’t know who is down there.”
    â€œOr if it’s human,” he added quietly.
    She froze. He had that intense, disturbing look again. She edged away.
    She glanced down at Chrissie’s phone, still cradled in her left hand. She pushed the keypad, and it blinked to life. Carefully she dialed the numbers 9-1-1.
    Positioning her left thumb over the send button just in case, she twisted the knob. The basement door swung open, and she stepped down into the darkness.

CHAPTER 17
    She tentatively took the first step. Her stomach twisted, and she paused. Was she really doing this?
    Yes. Yes, she was. She had to help Paige. And Paige might know where her brother was, and Chrissie, and everyone else. Come on, Kelly, she coached herself.
    Her hand reached for the light switch, but before she could touch it, the lights flashed on themselves and then—
    â€œSurprise!”
    Kelly screamed and reeled backward. She dropped the cell phone and frantically reached for the banister. Her knees wobbled from the shock. What was going on?
    â€œSurprise!” the voices yelled again.
    She stared dumbfounded at the smiling faces beamingup at her from the bottom of the stairs. Paige, June, Spencer, Chrissie, Ryan, Spencer’s mom, and his brother, Charlie.
    â€œWh-what?” She couldn’t understand what they were all doing in her basement. Together. Looking so . . . happy.
    â€œHappy birthday!” they all cried.
    Her brain took a few seconds to compute the meaning of what was going on. Then she noticed the balloons and streamers decorating the usually blah basement.
    â€œGo downstairs.” Gavin