The Evil Lives!

But the ocean was too strong. The next wave pried Amanda’s hands from the rail and swept her off the deck.

  As the icy water closed over her head, Amanda saw Sarah thrashing next to her, her long skirt tangled around her legs.

  “This isn’t fair!” Sarah shouted.

  But we’re underwater, Amanda thought. Her mouth is closed. How can I possibly be hearing her?

  “I’m going to die! But this is Jane’s fate, not mine!” Sarah’s words were clear and loud as she struggled in the churning water.

  It’s her thoughts, Amanda suddenly realized. I can hear what she’s thinking.

  “It shouldn’t be me!” Sarah screamed again. “It should be Jane who drowns, not me!”

  The fear had disappeared from Sarah’s voice. All Amanda heard now was anger. It burned in her eyes and twisted her face into a hideous mask of fury.

  “It’s not fair!” Sarah screamed. “Not fair. Not fair! Not . . .” Her voice suddenly stopped.

  She whipped her head back and forth, trying desperately not to breathe.

  But her lips parted.

  Her eyes widened.

  Her body thrashed crazily for a few moments. Then it went limp, and a stream of bubbles drifted from her mouth.

  Dead, Amanda thought. She floated easily under the water, staring at Sarah’s body as the motion of the waves rolled it over and over. She’s dead.

  Sarah’s body rolled again, turning on its back. Her eyes were still open.

  And still filled with rage.

  A vicious, white-hot rage that Amanda could almost feel.

  I do feel it! Amanda suddenly realized. Sarah is dead, but I can still feel her anger. It’s pouring out of her eyes. It’s turning the water hot.

  The water began to churn and bubble. Amanda felt its heat sizzle on her skin as it grew hotter and hotter.

  It’s boiling!

  Sarah’s anger is so powerful, it’s boiling the water.

  As the heat grew stronger, Amanda suddenly noticed the smell. A foul, putrid odor that reeked of death.

  She stared at Sarah and gasped.

  A green, snakelike liquid was pouring from the dead woman’s mouth.

  Thick and reeking, the horrible stuff kept twisting up from between Sarah’s lips like a giant snake.

  Amanda shuddered with terror.

  It’s Sarah’s rage. I can feel it inside the green form. Pulsing. Throbbing with life.

  With hate.

  With revenge.

  As the green form kept rising, it reared up like a cobra, hovering over Amanda’s head.

  And then it began to spread, turning the boiling water green.

  Filling the water with its hatred.

  Pouring out of Sarah’s corpse. Surrounding Amanda with its evil, undying rage.

  Evil, Amanda realized in horror.

  It’s the Evil!

  PART FOUR

  * * *

  Chapter 21

  OUT OF THE GRAVE

  Amanda opened her eyes to darkness.

  Sarah’s body no longer floated in front of her. The horrible green liquid that poured from her mouth had disappeared. Amanda couldn’t feel Sarah’s rage now.

  Was the Evil gone?

  “Amanda?” an anxious voice called out.

  Dustin’s voice.

  “Come on, get up!” he urged.

  “She can’t get up!” Janine’s voice snapped. “Didn’t you see her fall? She must have hit her head and blacked out. Amanda, are you okay?”

  The darkness began to fade. The warmth disappeared. Amanda shivered and began to sit up.

  Cold water streamed from her hair and ran down her neck. She shivered again and glanced around.

  Walls of dirt rose on all sides of her. Moist, smelly earth lay in clumps in the wooden box she sat in.

  The box!

  Amanda shuddered as the memory came rushing back. I fell into Sarah Fear’s grave. I’m sitting in her coffin!

  She glanced up. Janine and Dustin hung over the edge of the grave, worried expressions on their faces. “Can you stand?” Janine asked.

  “Yes!” Amanda scrambled to her feet, frantic to get out of the grave. Her jeans and sweatshirt were drenched. She felt chilled to the bone.

  And the water that trickled over her lips tasted salty.

  Ocean water.

  It wasn’t a dream! she realized with a shudder. I really did go back through time.

  I saw the birth of the Evil!

  Terrified at the memory, Amanda stood on tiptoe and stretched her arms high above her head. “Please! Get me out of here!”

  Her fingertips brushed Janine’s, then Dustin’s. Finally, Dustin inched himself farther over the lip of the grave and managed to catch hold of her wrist.

  As Dustin pulled, Amanda jammed the toes of one sneaker into a muddy wall and rose up a little higher. Janine caught her other wrist. Together, she and Dustin pulled Amanda from the grave of Sarah Fear.

  Amanda stumbled out and sank to her knees, panting with relief.

  “Are you all right?” Janine asked.

  “No.” Amanda’s teeth chattered. She couldn’t stop shaking. “I’m not all right.”

  “You hit your head, didn’t you? I’ll take you to the hospital,” Janine declared. “You might have a concussion.”

  “I don’t,” Amanda insisted. “I didn’t hit my head. Something happened to me, but not that.”

  “Well, what?” Dustin asked.

  Amanda caught her breath and stood up. “I traveled back in time.”

  “Huh?” Janine frowned at her. “Whoa!”

  “It really happened!” Amanda insisted. “There’s something supernatural about that grave. When I fell into it, something—some force—pulled me back in time. And now I know what happened. I know how the Evil was born.”

  Dustin raised his eyebrows. “What evil?”

  “Sarah Fear’s Evil,” Amanda replied, pointing to the grave.

  Suddenly Amanda realized something. Something horrible. “But this isn’t really Sarah’s grave. Sarah drowned—she never lived in Shadyside with Thomas Fear. This grave . . . it must be Jane’s grave.”

  Janine frowned again. “Amanda, you’re babbling.”

  “Listen to me!” Amanda cried. “When I went back in time, I saw Sarah Fear. Only she wasn’t married yet—her name was Sarah Burns. And she never became Sarah Fear. She switched identities with her friend, Jane Hardy.”

  “Amanda—” Dustin cut in.

  “Don’t you get it?” Amanda cried. “Jane came to Shadyside and married Thomas Fear. She pretended her name was Sarah. But the real Sarah sailed for London. Only she never made it. Her ship went down and she drowned.”

  Janine and Dustin stared at her, astonishment in their eyes. “That’s enough, Amanda,” Dustin declared. “Stop this crazy talk.”

  “I’m telling the truth,” Amanda insisted. “I was right there. I saw Sarah drown. And she was so furious! It was horrible. Terrifying. Even after she died, the fury just kept pouring out of her. I could actually see it and feel it! She was dead, but it was alive. And it was the Evil!”

  “Amanda, you were only in the grave for a few seconds,” Janine told her. “You must have blacked out and had some kind of nightmare or something.”

  “Look at me!” Amanda shouted, grabbing her hair and wringing the water from it. “I’m soaking wet. How do you think I got that way?”

  Dustin shrugged. “There’s water down in the grave.”

  “No. I was in the ocean,” Amanda insisted. “I saw the Evil being born.” She paused, frustrated. They don’t believe me. Do they think I’m lying? Or crazy?

  She glanced at the grave. “Okay, if you don’t believe me about the time travel, look at the grave. It’s empty. So is the coffin. How do you explain that?” she demanded. “What happened to this grave?”

  Dustin and Janine shrugged.

  “Sarah’s evil spirit must have gone to Shadyside,” Amanda said. “She went after Jane—she was so angry a
t Jane. And the Evil took over Jane’s body and made her kill people.” She stared into Janine’s eyes. “We called up that Evil. It burst out of this grave.”

  “I don’t know what to think,” Janine admitted with a sigh. “This whole thing is really creeping me out. And so is this horrible cemetery. Let’s go.”

  Turning their backs on the empty grave, Janine and Dustin hurried away. Amanda followed. By the time they reached the street, she was shivering violently. She was soaked to the skin and covered with mud. Mud that reeked of decay and death.

  Jane’s death. And Sarah’s death.

  Except Sarah isn’t truly dead, Amanda reminded herself. Not as long as the Evil lives.

  And it does live.

  On the street, Dustin said a quick good-bye and hurried to his car.

  “I guess he doesn’t want to get back together anymore,” Amanda murmured as she climbed into Janine’s car. “That’s one way to get rid of him—make him think I’m nuts.”

  Janine didn’t reply. She started the car and pulled away from the curb so quickly the tires squealed.

  Amanda turned to her. “What about you? I suppose you think I’m nuts too.”

  “No way,” Janine protested. “But this is so weird. I’m totally confused.”

  “So am I,” Amanda admitted. “But I know what I saw. Sarah’s Evil was so strong. Too strong to die. And it came back through Jane’s grave.”

  Janine’s fingers tightened anxiously on the steering wheel. “But if it really is back, what can we do?”

  “I’m not sure. But we have to be careful,” Amanda warned. “The Evil is inside someone. We just don’t know who.”

  Janine nodded and bit her lip nervously as she turned the car into Amanda’s driveway.

  “Don’t go all the way to the house,” Amanda told her. “If my parents hear the car, they’ll come to the door. I don’t want them to see me like this. I’ll walk up the driveway and sneak in the back.”

  Janine stopped the car at the foot of the drive. Amanda climbed out. As Janine pulled away, Amanda started toward the house.

  And stopped.

  A set of footprints led up the drive.

  Clumps of thick, moist earth had scattered around each print.

  Amanda gasped.

  It looks like mud from the grave.

  But it doesn’t have to be, she told herself. It probably isn’t.

  Amanda continued up the drive. But she kept one eye on the footprints.

  Halfway toward the back, the prints stopped.

  Amanda’s heart seemed to stop too.

  The muddy footprints led straight up to her bedroom window.

  Chapter 22

  A VISITOR

  Amanda backed away from the footprints. Her heart was racing now, and her legs felt shaky.

  Something rustled in the hedge behind her. Amanda jumped, then sped down the walk and into the kitchen through the back door.

  “Amanda?” her mother’s voice called from the front of the house.

  Amanda caught her breath and tried to steady her voice. “Yes. It’s me.”

  “We were getting worried. You should have called.”

  “Sorry.” Amanda kicked off her filthy sneakers and picked them up.

  “Your father and I are just leaving,” her mother told her. “We’re having dinner with the Dixons, so you’re on your own. There’s leftover chicken in the refrigerator.”

  Amanda’s stomach tightened into a knot. After falling into that grave, she couldn’t imagine ever eating again.

  Her parents called out good-bye, and the front door slammed.

  Amanda stood in the kitchen, listening. Her sister Adele had gone back to college yesterday. Silence in the house now. All Amanda heard was the hum of the refrigerator and the steady tick of the hallway clock.

  Clutching her sneakers, she left the kitchen and crept down the hall.

  She stopped at her bedroom door. As she reached for the handle, terror shot through her. She quickly snatched her hand back.

  The footprints! The muddy footprints had led to her bedroom window!

  Had someone climbed into her room?

  As Amanda stood in the hall, a clump of mud oozed down her jeans and plopped to the floor. Water dripped from her hair. Her fingers and toes felt numb from the cold.

  You have to go in, she told herself. You have to get out of these clothes and into something warm and dry.

  Amanda forced herself to take hold of the door handle. She sucked in her breath, quickly turned the handle, and pushed the door open.

  A wave of air rolled out, its smell so sour that Amanda staggered back a step, dropping her shoes to the floor. She gasped, then almost gagged as the foul smell filled her nose again. Her stomach heaved and tears sprang to her eyes.

  “Amanda,” a voice whispered from inside the bedroom. “Come in.”

  Amanda gasped again. The voice sounded hollow. Thin and hollow, as if whoever spoke had no strength.

  The thin, whispery voice repeated her name. “Amanda.”

  Amanda blinked the tears from her eyes and stared through the doorway.

  A woman stood in the center of the room.

  A dead woman. Half corpse. Half skeleton.

  Tattered shreds of rotting flesh dangled from the bones of her shoulders and arms.

  Strips of what had once been a long skirt hung like ribbons around her leg bones.

  Only a few wisps of hair clung to her skull.

  One eye was missing. The other had oozed from its socket and stuck to a jutting, shiny-white cheekbone.

  Her nose was a greenish-black pulp of rotting flesh.

  One foot was bare.

  The other wore a rotting, high-buttoned boot.

  Sarah Fear! Amanda thought in horror. It’s her corpse!

  Run! she told herself. Get out of the house.

  But her feet felt rooted to the floor. She couldn’t move them. All that moved was her heart, pounding so hard she thought it would burst from her chest.

  Sarah raised her arm and crooked a bony finger at Amanda, motioning her inside.

  Amanda swayed dizzily.

  “Come in, Amanda,” Sarah whispered. A decayed chunk of her lip broke off and a stream of rotten breath blew across the room. “We must hurry. You and I are going to trade places now.”

  Chapter 23

  AMANDA DIES NEXT

  Amanda gasped as another wave of dizziness swept over her. The floor seemed to tilt under her feet.

  I’m falling, she thought in panic. Falling into the room.

  Into death.

  The floor tilted farther.

  Amanda swayed forward, toward the open door.

  “No!” Screaming in terror, she braced her legs and raised her arms to stop herself from falling.

  Her hands banged against the door.

  She stared at it, blinking in confusion.

  The door is still closed, she realized. She ran her palm down the smooth wood.

  My bedroom door is closed.

  Her knees sagged as relief flooded through her. She leaned her head against the door and breathed deeply.

  I imagined it, she thought. That rotting corpse with its sickening smell. That dry, dead voice. I’m 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 wouldn’t 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.

  Amanda’s eyes traveled slowly up to the top of the dresser.

  Her hairbrush. A pair of rolled-up socks. A small plastic 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. It’s only a piece of paper, she told herself. Mom probably left me a note.

  But Mom didn’t 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 didn’t cover the writing, or the bold signature at the bottom:

  Sarah Fear.

  Amanda’s hand shook as she slid the lotion bottle off the paper and read Sarah Fear’s message: “You and your friends have awakened a great Evil. The Evil takes pleasure in killing. You are next, Amanda.”

  “No!” Amanda cried out. She backed away from the dresser, clutching her arms.

  First Luke. Then Natalie.

  And I’m next, she thought in terror. I’m next!

  How will I die? What kind of gruesome “accident” 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 won’t matter, she thought. The Evil is too strong. I saw it. I watched it spew out of Sarah’s mouth and boil the ocean.

  Even if I find out who it is, I can’t 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 can’t 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.