Dead Voices

But maybe it was fake. A lie? Vivid in Ollie’s memory was the last time she’d used the Ouija board. Don’t trust anything it says, she reminded itself.

But, oh, she wanted it to be Coco. Maybe she could test it, somehow? She put her shaking forefingers on the planchette. OLI, she signed. U HAV MOM WACH HOW.

The planchette didn’t move for a second. Ollie’s heart beat with a mix of hope and terror. PROVE U OLI 1ST, said the planchette.

That definitely sounded like Coco. Despite herself, Ollie felt a surge of hope. She thought a second. UR FAV CLR PRPL, Ollie signed back. FAV DESSERT PI.

WUT KIND PI, returned the planchette. Ollie could almost feel her friend’s suspicion.

APL, she said. PROV U COCO.

* * *

—

For the first time since Ollie disappeared through the mirror, Coco felt a sudden hope. How could the smiling man know all that? Ollie, it’s Ollie. She’s talking to me. UR DAD CALL U OLLIEPOP, FAV CLR YLW, she signed back. FAV SNACK POPCRN. Tears were stinging in her eyes. GOT UR WACH BAK.

The planchette didn’t move for a second. Then, simply, it spelled out TNX. HOW.

LNG STRY. Coco felt that little flicker of pride again. She was glad she’d gotten the watch back. It was Ollie’s most treasured possession. U OK, Coco signed.

YA BUT STUCK BHND MROR came the reply. WHERE BRIAN.

LOST HIM.

* * *

—

Ollie stared at the Ouija board. At first she’d just been happy that Coco was talking to her, that Coco had gotten Ollie’s watch back. But now she was horrified. Lost Brian? How—lost?

HE OK, she signed.

The board—or Coco, on the other side—seemed to hesitate.

DUNNO, came the reply.

Ollie was so engrossed in watching the planchette whiz around the Ouija board that she totally failed to notice a new set of footsteps. Clomping down the stairs. They were nearly at the bottom before Ollie registered them, and then she threw herself away from the table, back into her hiding place behind the lockers.

She thought she heard a faint whimper of fear from Gretel, who was still hiding too, somewhere in the darkness.

Silence. Ollie peered out of her hiding place.

This time the person wasn’t invisible. It was the ghost skier. Gabriel, maybe. He stood right in front of the staircase, peering left, then right, like he wasn’t sure where to go. He was faceless in his ski mask. His hands pointed down at his sides, stiff with frostbite.

A garbled sound came from his ski mask. It sounded like a growl. It sounded terrifying. But Ollie wondered if it was just because his lips and jaw were frozen and he couldn’t talk. Like Gretel but worse. He had tried to stop Mother Hemlock from taking her up to the closet. Ollie was almost sure that he had. Maybe he’d stopped her from coming down to the basement. Gotten ahead of her and blocked the door, somehow. Ollie hoped so. It was good to feel like she wasn’t alone.

On the table, the planchette on the Ouija board was moving, but Ollie didn’t dare take her eyes off the skier.

“Are you Gabriel?” Ollie asked, gathering her courage, stepping boldly out from her hiding place. “Gabriel Bouvier?”

An empty-eyed stare. Then a single, jerky nod.

“Can you talk?”

A shrug. An awkward head shake.

“Did you try to warn us? The person Coco saw, the first night, in the road. Was that you?”