DEMON CROSSING
Published by Hodder Children's Books
ISBN 0-340-85399-9
£4.99
Tom has been visited by the ghost of Susannah, a girl who died under mysterious circumstances at the mill a hundred years ago. Now, in the light of day, he and his new friend Holly—who also believes in the ghost—are anxious to find out more…
Tom had done a lot of thinking overnight, and something that had been nagging
at him was now clearer in his mind. 'One thing doesn’t add up,’ he
said. 'When Susannah's ghost appeared in my room, I wasn’t scared.
Shocked, sure; anyone would be. But not scared. She was... well,
friendly, is the best word for it, I suppose. But whatever it is that’s
hanging around the mill doesn’t feel friendly at all.'
'You think
whatever’s there might not be Susannah?’
'It’s
only a theory. But it makes a weird kind of sense.’
Holly studied
the mill with narrowed eyes. 'The best person to tell us, of course, would be
Susannah herself. And you know what? I think she’s still around. It’s
just an instinct, but… When I used to come up here, I kept getting the
feeling that I wasn’t alone. It happened a lot; and sometimes it was so
strong that it really unnerved me. I tried calling out: you know, the old “Hello,
is there anybody there?” routine. There was never any answer. But it was
as if someone had heard me, and they wanted to answer, but couldn’t
for some reason.’ She shrugged. 'Sounds crazy, I know. But that’s
what it was like.’
'Can you feel
anything like that today?’ Tom asked eagerly.
'After what
we’ve been talking about, it’d be all too easy to imagine it, wouldn’t
it? But... yes. I think I can. I think Susannah isn’t far away.’
Tom stared
around at the quiet garden, the sunlit house, the silent mill. He could feel
nothing, and he said, 'Canghosts appear in the daytime?’
'Why not?’
'Yes... I
wonder what would happen if we called to her now? Two of us might stand a better
chance of... well, getting through.’
'I thought
that, too.’ Holly thought for a few moments, then: 'Let’s go into
the mill. The place where you found her bones. If she’s tied to any special
spot, it should be there.'
Tom pushed
down an irrational shiver. 'All right.’ He looked at Dublin. The dog's
jaws gaped with pleasure and he wagged his tail. 'What about him?’
'Is he scared
of the mill building?’
'He doesn’t
seem to be. It’s just the wheel.’
'Then I think
we should take him with us, and see what he does. If Susannah does try to answer
us, he’ll probably be the first one to sense her.’
As they walked
towards the mill door Tom thought: this is unreal. It’s a sunny Sunday
morning, and I’m heading for an old ruin to try to make contact with a
ghost. But he said nothing, and firmly pushed down the queasy sensation
that was trying to take control of his stomach as they ducked under the lintel
and entered the gloomy interior.
'Wow.’ Holly
straightened up and looked around, peering in the dismal light. 'What a creepy
place!’
'Haven’t
you been in here before?’
'No, it was
all boarded up when I used to come.’ She scratched at the wall, and dust
and small flakes of stone scattered down. 'Where did you find the bones?’
'Over there.’ Tom
pointed to the excavated section and followed her to the spot. Dublin didn’t
seem particularly interested; he sniffed at one or two piles of rubble, then
sat down and started to scratch one ear with a hind leg. Holly looked from floor
to ceiling, her face sombre. Then she said quietly,
'Do you think
Susannah could still have been alive when she was put in here?’
'God, I hope
not!’ Tom was horrified by that macabre idea, and denied it hastily. 'So
many of the bones were broken—she must have died of her injuries, not...’ He
waved a hand at the wall, unwilling to say the rest, then added, 'Whatever made
you think of a gruesome thing like that?’
'I was just
considering possibilities,’ said Holly. 'If we could guess at what happened
to Susannah, and say so when we try to contact her, it might make her more willing
to answer.’ She gave her little shrug again. 'Only a thought.’
'Well, don’t
think things like that to me! I live here, remember. I don’t want that
sort of image going round in my head when I’m lying in bed at night!’
'Sorry.’ Holly
smiled faintly. 'Well, that’s made the party go with a bang, hasn’t
it? Well done, Holly. Remember to engage brain before operating mouth.’ She
let out her breath in a rush. 'Let’s talk to her. Tell her who we are,
and that we want to know more about her.'
He nodded.
For several seconds there was silence. Then:
'Susannah.’ Holly
spoke quietly. 'Susannah, are you here? My name’s Holly, and this is Tom.
He lives at the mill now.’ She rolled her eyes in Tom’s direction,
prompting him to say something.
'Er... hello,
Susannah,’ he ventured. 'I saw you last night.’
Dublin had
stopped scratching and was watching them. Did it mean anything? Had the dog sensed
some change that they weren’t aware of?
'Susannah,’ said
Holly, 'we’d like to talk to you. We want to know more about you. Please
answer us.’
No response.
Dust motes drifted on a shaft of sunlight, and Tom felt as if he could have reached
out and touched the silence. Dublin yawned, then settled down and laid his head
on his outstretched front paws.
'She isn’t
here,’ said Tom.
'Shh!’ Holly
waved at him to be quiet. 'I thought I felt something.’
Invisible
spiders crawled up Tom’s spine. He looked uneasily around at the gloomy
scene, but his mind couldn’t pick up anything strange. Except...
He shivered
suddenly, and hissed, 'It’s getting cold in here!’
'I know,’ Holly
whispered back. She bit her lip. 'When she came to you last night, did it turn
cold then?’
'No.’ He
remembered clearly. 'Definitely not.’
'Right.’ Holly
was looking nervous now. 'I think maybe we ought to go outside.’
Tom got as
far as, 'Why? What—’ when Dublin suddenly sprang to his feet and
growled. He was staring deeper into the building, past the demolished wall to
the area where the mill machinery had once creaked and rumbled.
'What’s
he seen?’ Tom’s voice went up the scale to a squeak.
'I don’t
know.’ Holly backed a pace towards the door. 'But I think we ought to go.’
Tom would
never know what made him look over his shoulder then. But he did look, and what
he saw made him yelp aloud.
Susannah’s face was at one of the gaping window holes, looking in at them.
Then she dodged out of sight.
'Tom!’ Holly
shouted as he ran for the door. He ignored her, and she raced after him. Dublin
raced too, barrelling through the doorway and nearly sending Holly flying as
he tore outside.
Tom was looking
wildly around at the garden. 'What is it?’ Holly gasped, catching up. 'What
happened?’
'It was Susannah!
She was here, looking in at the window!’ Tom’s gaze swept the garden
again. 'But she’s vanished.’
Holly bent
to the dog, grasping his muzzle between her hands, 'Dublin! Where’s Susannah?
Find, boy. Find!’
Dublin whined
and wriggled. He knew 'find’ but obviously had no idea what she expected
him to look for. Holly sighed and straightened. 'He can’t sense her. It’s
weird, though... you said she was out here. And Dublin started growling just
before she appeared. But whatever upset him was inside the mill.’
She was right.
Tom looked uneasily back at the building, then at Dublin. The dog seemed perfectly
all right now. But it had been a different story a few moments ago.
He went cautiously
back inside the mill. It didn’t feel so cold now, but all the same he couldn’t
suppress a shiver as he looked into the quiet, still depths of the building.
'Susannah...?’ he
ventured. The only answer was a faint echo of his own voice.
'It’s
gone,’ said Holly from behind him. She, too, had stepped through the door.
'Whatever freaked Dublin, it isn’t here any more.’ She hunched her
shoulders and rubbed her own arms. 'And it wasn’t Susannah. I think your
theory’s right. There’s something else haunting this place, as well
as her.’
'But what?’ Tom
asked uneasily.
'That’s
what we’re going to have to find out.’
He nodded.
'This is going to sound daft, but... when I saw Susannah just now, she shook
her head at me. I’m sure it meant something. Like a... a...’
'A warning?’
'That’s
it. That’s it exactly. I mean, I might be wrong, but —’
'No,’ said
Holly. 'I don’t think you are.’ She frowned in the gloom. 'And
I’ve got a theory, too. Whatever this... thing is, I reckon it
might have something to do with Susannah’s death. In fact, I think it might
have everything to do with it…’