Free The Haunted by Bentley Little

that sounded like a fine idea. Although James had managed to convince himself that their new home was friendly rather than creepy (with the exception of the basement—which he would
never
like), the truth was that he was often tense inside the house. If he was with Megan or one of his parents, or if he was busy with something such as reading, watching TV or playing a game, he was fine. But when he was by himself with nothing to do and time on his hands … well, then he started noticing things. Like the way the stairs creaked sometimes, even though no one was on them. Or the way some of the windows didn’t let in as much light as they should. Or the way he saw movement out of the corner of his eye when nothing was there.
    So the thought of staying overnight at Robbie’s sounded like a relaxing respite.
    “That’d be fun,” James admitted.
    “I’ll ask my dad.”
    Robbie refocused his attention on the batting practice, and James saw his chance at a real discussion slipping away. Glancing over at his friend, he decided to come clean. “I don’t like the basement in our house,” he said. He watched for a reaction but saw none. “I think it’s creepy.”
    Robbie didn’t respond, continued to watch his brother’s teammates swing at softly lobbed balls.
    James didn’t know what more he could say. Maybe he’d been wrong all along. Maybe Robbie
hadn’t
been scared by the basement.
    “I thought I saw something,” his friend said finally. The boy spoke so softly that at first James wasn’t sure he’d heard right. Robbie refused to look at him, his eyesremaining focused on the Little Leaguers. “In the cellar. Not when we first went down there. That was cool. But later, before we went to bed, when I went into the kitchen to get a glass of water. I was the only one in the kitchen, and it was kind of dark, and the cellar door was open. I didn’t think it was open before; I remembered it being closed, and then I thought maybe your mom or dad was down there, getting something. So I walked by, peeked in. …” Robbie’s voice trailed off. He stopped talking, suddenly becoming very interested in the latest batter, and for a moment James thought he was going to have to prod his friend to continue. But then Robbie said, “It looked like there was a man down there. Maybe there wasn’t, but it looked like there was, and I got scared and hurried back to where you were.”
    James suddenly felt cold.
    “I had a nightmare about it when I fell asleep. You were right about that, but I didn’t want to talk about it.”
    “What was it about?”
    “The same thing that happened. I went to get a drink of water, the cellar door was open, and I walked past it and saw a man down there. It wasn’t your dad. I couldn’t see all of his face, but I could see his mouth. His smile. He was smiling up at me and it was like his teeth were glowing, and … and I knew he wanted me to go down into the basement. I think … I think he wanted to kill me. Then he said my name. …” Robbie sucked in his breath. “That’s why I wanted to go home.”
    Even here in the park, in the open, surrounded by people, James was frightened. But he refused to give in to fear, forcing himself to be brave. He decided not to tell his friend that he, too, had had a nightmare about the cellar and that their two dreams were very close.
Too
close. Instead he said, “It’s just a dream.”
    “You’re afraid of the basement, too,” Robbie pointed out.
    “But it’s
just
the basement,” James insisted. “My
room’s
not scary at all. In fact, it’s great. I’d live in there twenty-four hours a day if I could.”
    “I like your room,” Robbie admitted.
    “See?”
    “And your garage.”
    “Me, too!”
    “Last year, my dad read me this book. It was one of
his
old books, and it was about these two kid detectives, about our age. One of them was this genius named Brains Benton, and he had a secret lab above his parents’ garage. That’s what yours