deeply.
I imagined it, she thought. That rotting corpse with its sickening smell. That dry, dead voice. Iâm still freaked from falling in the grave and going back in time.
I imagined the whole thing.
Amanda closed her eyes and took another deep breath. Then she picked up her shoes and opened the door.
Stepping inside, she quickly flipped on the light.
The room stood empty.
Everything looked the same as it had when she left this morning. Stuffed animals piled on the bed. Books stacked on the desk. A thick, rust-colored sweater and black leggings draped across the chair.
Amanda dropped her shoes and started toward her closet. She needed a long, hot shower and dry clothes.
As she moved farther into the room, she began to unzip her sweatshirt. Mud clogged the zipper and it wouldnât go down. She crossed her arms and grabbed hold of the bottom of the shirt to pull it over her head.
Then she froze, elbows stuck out, heart banging against her chest as she gazed across the room.
The bed had blocked it before, but she now could see it clearly.
A clump of mud, stuck to the windowsill.
More mud beneath the window.
A footprint. Then another and another, leading across her bedroom.
Still frozen in place, Amanda tracked the footprints with her eyes. They led across the pale blue rug, past the closet, and stopped in front of the dresser.
Amandaâs eyes traveled slowly up to the top of the dresser.
Her hairbrush. A pair of rolled-up socks. A smallplastic tree with earrings and bracelets dangling from its limbs. A bottle of hand lotion.
A sheet of paper anchored beneath the bottle.
Amanda dropped her arms and forced herself to walk toward the dresser. Itâs only a piece of paper, she told herself. Mom probably left me a note.
But Mom didnât climb in my window and track mud across the rug. And everybody leaves notes on the corkboard in the kitchen.
In front of the dresser, Amanda stopped, gasping. The paper was wet and muddy. But the mud didnât cover the writing, or the bold signature at the bottom:
Sarah Fear.
Amandaâs hand shook as she slid the lotion bottle off the paper and read Sarah Fearâs message: âYou and your friends have awakened a great Evil. The Evil takes pleasure in killing. You are next, Amanda.â
âNo!â Amanda cried out. She backed away from the dresser, clutching her arms.
First Luke. Then Natalie.
And Iâm next, she thought in terror. Iâm next!
How will I die? What kind of gruesome âaccidentâ is going to happen to me?
And who will do it? Who is possessed by the Evil?
Who do I have to watch out for?
It wonât matter, she thought. The Evil is too strong. I saw it. I watched it spew out of Sarahâs mouth and boil the ocean.
Even if I find out who it is, I canât fight it. It will get me, no matter what.
Amanda backed up until her legs hit the bed, and she dropped onto it.
Amanda drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. I canât give up, she told herself.There has to be something I can do. Some way to stop the horrible Evil before it kills me or anybody else.
Janine, she thought suddenly. Janine has the instructions on how to call up the Evil. Maybe they tell how to get rid of it.
Amanda grabbed the telephone and punched in the number.
Busy.
Amanda hung up and peeled off her filthy clothes. She grabbed her bathrobe from the closet hook and shrugged into it. Then she hurried back to the phone and stabbed out Janineâs number again.
Still busy.
I have to talk to her! Amanda thought desperately. I have to tell her whatâs happened. Sheâll help me figure everything out.
Go over there, she told herself. Stop wasting time!
She threw off her robe and hurried back to the closet. She dragged out a pair of fresh jeans and pulled them on. She fumbled around for a second pair of sneakers and shoved her feet into them.
Hurry! her mind screamed at her. Hurry!
Racing to the chair, she
I imagined it, she thought. That rotting corpse with its sickening smell. That dry, dead voice. Iâm still freaked from falling in the grave and going back in time.
I imagined the whole thing.
Amanda closed her eyes and took another deep breath. Then she picked up her shoes and opened the door.
Stepping inside, she quickly flipped on the light.
The room stood empty.
Everything looked the same as it had when she left this morning. Stuffed animals piled on the bed. Books stacked on the desk. A thick, rust-colored sweater and black leggings draped across the chair.
Amanda dropped her shoes and started toward her closet. She needed a long, hot shower and dry clothes.
As she moved farther into the room, she began to unzip her sweatshirt. Mud clogged the zipper and it wouldnât go down. She crossed her arms and grabbed hold of the bottom of the shirt to pull it over her head.
Then she froze, elbows stuck out, heart banging against her chest as she gazed across the room.
The bed had blocked it before, but she now could see it clearly.
A clump of mud, stuck to the windowsill.
More mud beneath the window.
A footprint. Then another and another, leading across her bedroom.
Still frozen in place, Amanda tracked the footprints with her eyes. They led across the pale blue rug, past the closet, and stopped in front of the dresser.
Amandaâs eyes traveled slowly up to the top of the dresser.
Her hairbrush. A pair of rolled-up socks. A smallplastic tree with earrings and bracelets dangling from its limbs. A bottle of hand lotion.
A sheet of paper anchored beneath the bottle.
Amanda dropped her arms and forced herself to walk toward the dresser. Itâs only a piece of paper, she told herself. Mom probably left me a note.
But Mom didnât climb in my window and track mud across the rug. And everybody leaves notes on the corkboard in the kitchen.
In front of the dresser, Amanda stopped, gasping. The paper was wet and muddy. But the mud didnât cover the writing, or the bold signature at the bottom:
Sarah Fear.
Amandaâs hand shook as she slid the lotion bottle off the paper and read Sarah Fearâs message: âYou and your friends have awakened a great Evil. The Evil takes pleasure in killing. You are next, Amanda.â
âNo!â Amanda cried out. She backed away from the dresser, clutching her arms.
First Luke. Then Natalie.
And Iâm next, she thought in terror. Iâm next!
How will I die? What kind of gruesome âaccidentâ is going to happen to me?
And who will do it? Who is possessed by the Evil?
Who do I have to watch out for?
It wonât matter, she thought. The Evil is too strong. I saw it. I watched it spew out of Sarahâs mouth and boil the ocean.
Even if I find out who it is, I canât fight it. It will get me, no matter what.
Amanda backed up until her legs hit the bed, and she dropped onto it.
Amanda drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around her knees. I canât give up, she told herself.There has to be something I can do. Some way to stop the horrible Evil before it kills me or anybody else.
Janine, she thought suddenly. Janine has the instructions on how to call up the Evil. Maybe they tell how to get rid of it.
Amanda grabbed the telephone and punched in the number.
Busy.
Amanda hung up and peeled off her filthy clothes. She grabbed her bathrobe from the closet hook and shrugged into it. Then she hurried back to the phone and stabbed out Janineâs number again.
Still busy.
I have to talk to her! Amanda thought desperately. I have to tell her whatâs happened. Sheâll help me figure everything out.
Go over there, she told herself. Stop wasting time!
She threw off her robe and hurried back to the closet. She dragged out a pair of fresh jeans and pulled them on. She fumbled around for a second pair of sneakers and shoved her feet into them.
Hurry! her mind screamed at her. Hurry!
Racing to the chair, she
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