Free Haunted Harbours by Steve Vernon Page A

these woods, and that his ghost still waited with a drawn knife, looking for revenge. Her Uncle Roderick said that there was a demon out here haunting through the shadows and searching for fresh meat.
    Saundra wasn’t scared. The only thing that scared her was the thought of how close it was to back-to-school time. She wasn’t looking forward to having to sit at a desk all day long. The schoolhouse frightened her more than any monster ever could. Just thinking about that big old schoolhouse with its doors hanging open like a dragon’s jaws was enough to scare the living daylights out of her.
    The woods didn’t scare her one bit. She never got lost and even if she did she knew how to find herself again. Her daddy had taught her that trick. “Lost is a surprise that sneaks up on you, just around the very next corner,” he always said. “Look for the water. Remember the track of the stream and follow it on back home. A good river or a stream can be just as dependable as a highway.”
    Saundra had listened. She knew that you had to be careful in the woods, and she always was.
    She kept on walking. She was close to where the blueberries grew fattest. This was her secret spot, out here in the pine trees. There’d been a fire ten years back and nothing grew blueberries like burned-over woodland.
    She knelt in a patch of berries. The rock she squatted on was a little tippy so she turned it over. A big fat red centipede scuttled out from under, all wet and nasty. She drew her breath in sharply and held it for a half an instant. In that half an instant she heard a branch snap behind her like the wishbone of a chicken.
    She turned, half-expecting to see a deer, a rabbit, or at worse a bear. Bears were hungry this time of year, looking for berries to fatten themselves up for hibernation. The cubs would be mostly grown, not needing their momma’s protection, so the odds were any bears would be more than happy to leave her alone.
    She saw nothing.
    And then she heard it again, softly to her left, a dead leaf crushed beneath an unseen pressure —a heavy footstep sounding very close indeed.
    She held still, not wanting to disturb whatever it was that had made the noise. She edged her glance backwards, slowly pivoting her head in tiny careful increments— nothing.
    And then she heard it, even closer, just behind her left ear, a soft damp giggle.
    â€œJeremy?”
    She whirled around as fast as she could, trying to catch a glimpse of her mischievous older brother.
    Still nothing.
    â€œJeremy if you’re trying to scare me it won’t work. You know I can hear you.”
    But that was the point. She was supposed to hear it, supposed to be terrified and to run screaming into the wilderness. Maybe fall down and twist her ankle and lie there starving to death. Perhaps she’d run into a tree or fall off into a rock cut.
    She felt its hot breath upon her neck. She shivered, as if she were cold. She remembered a time when she and Jeremy had found a dead dog beside the roadway. The dog had been covered in maggots that had made a soft sound like crackling cellophane. The stink had been terrible.
    This thing’s breath was worse.
    Now she was remembering her father’s voice. She was remembering a story he’d told about the Hidey Hinder, how it would creep up and follow hikers through the woods, scaring them into hurting themselves, or panicking and becoming lost. Her father had said that the only way to scare a Hidey Hinder off your trail was to catch a look at it; it couldn’t stand the sight of its own reflection in another’s eyes.
    Saundra felt something move closer to her. She heard a soft, rancid giggle, like someone snickering through a mouthful of bad butter. She jumped, just as fast as she could, whirling about three times fast, stopping at every whirl and trying to catch a look at the Hidey Hinder: nothing, nothing, and still more nothing. She jumped and whirled and