R. L. Stine_Mostly Ghostly 03 by One Night in Doom House Page A

flickering candlelight.
    No one in there. No sign of the ghosts. Except for the two silvery life pods on the floor.
    “Hey—anyone still here?” I shouted in.
    No reply.
    I’d done it. I’d destroyed the ghosts. But … wait!
    “Oh noooo!” I let out a horrified moan.
    The evil ghosts were all gone.
But so were Nicky and Tara!

29
    A HEAVY FEELING OF dread slid over me. I stared into the empty room, watching the shadows dart and dance.
    Only shadows. No one left.
    “Nicky? Tara?” I called their names. “Are you here? Please—be here!”
    No reply.
    I sighed and tried again, shouting their names. But no. They weren’t here.
    Why hadn’t I looked? I’d heaved all that snow into the room without aiming it. Without thinking. I’d destroyed the evil ghosts—and my friends along with them.
    With another long, sad sigh, I lowered myself into the house. The room smelled smoky. It smelled like our kitchen after Mom burned the roast.
    I spun around, searching for any clue that Nicky and Tara might still be here, any clue that they might be okay.
    My boots bumped one of the life pods on the floor.
    Yes! The life pods!
    Excited, I grabbed them both up and lifted them close to my face.
    “Nicky? Tara? Are you in there?” I shouted at the top of my lungs into the pods.
    Silence.
    I carried the pods over to a candle and examined them in the light. I turned them over and over in my hands. I shouted my friends’ names again.
    No. Nicky and Tara weren’t trapped inside.
    With an angry cry, I tossed the two pods to the floor. They hit hard and bounced away.
    Nicky and Tara were my best friends, I realized. They tried to help me in school. They tried to make me a braver, more popular person.
    Yes, my best friends …
    They had come to me for help. They were frightened and alone, and they’d asked me to help them find their parents.
    And what did I do?
    I
murdered
them. I murdered my best friends.
    Furious, I kicked a pod against the wall. Then I dragged myself to the window, climbed back out into the wind and the blowing snow. And I trudged, head down, to the bus stop.
    I rode the bus to Powell Avenue. I was so unhappy, so lost in my thoughts about Nicky and Tara, I almost missed my stop.
    The heavy clouds had rolled away. A yellow full moon shone down, making the snow gleam like gold.
    I started to pass Traci Wayne's house when I saw her in the front yard. All the tree lights were on, making her yard nearly as bright as day.
    Traci waved to me. She had a bunch of friends with her. “Hey, Max,” she called. “We’re building a snow house. Want to help us?”
    Huh? Traci Wayne was inviting me over? Inviting me to join her friends?
    Normally, I’d go nuts, maybe do a few cartwheels, scream and beat my chest like a gorilla.
    “No thanks,” I called.
    You don’t murder your friends and then go build a snow house—even if your friends were ghosts.
    I lowered my head and kept walking. Crossing the street, I stepped into a deep snowdrift, and icy snow poured into my boot. I hardly noticed.
    All the lights were on in my house. I knew Mom would be angry because I sneaked out when she’d told me to stay inside.
    I sure didn’t feel like eating anything. My stomach was knotted and heavy as a rock.
    I knew my family would be in the kitchen. So I sneaked in the front door and crept silently upstairs to my room. I didn’t want to see anyone. Iclosed the door behind me and locked it. Then I clicked on the light.
    Blinking, I waited for my eyes to adjust to the brightness. Then I turned to the bed—and let out a cry.
    “What are
you
doing here?”

30
    I STARED AT NICKY and Tara, sitting side by side on my bed. They both smiled at me. “What's up, Max?” Nicky said.
    “You—you’re
alive
!” I screamed. “You’re okay! You—you—you—” I couldn’t get the words out. I was so happy, so thrilled to see them.
    They leaped off the bed and we all jumped up and down. And then we ran around in circles and did a crazy