Project 17 by Laurie Faria Stolarz Page A
Authors: Laurie Faria Stolarz
Tags: Fiction, General, Horror, Juvenile Fiction, Children's Books - Young Adult Fiction, Interpersonal relations, Children: Young Adult (Gr. 7-9), Psychiatric hospitals, Performing Arts, Horror Tales, Motion pictures, Horror & Ghost Stories, Mysteries & Detective Stories, Haunted places, Mysteries; Espionage; & Detective Stories, Film, Motion pictures - Production and direction, Production and direction, Ghost Stories (Young Adult)
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and finally it stays on.
A second later, we hear a knock at the basement door--the same door we're headed for, the one that leads into the tunnel.
"What the hell was that?" Greta blurts.
I place my finger over my lips to quiet everybody and then I move closer to the door and press my ear up against it. I can hear a faint pounding sound coming from somewhere in the tunnel. "I'll bet it's just a heat duct," I tell them, thinking how the one in my house makes a hell of a racket.
"That was no heat duct," Tony says, all defensive. "Someone was knocking."
"Plus," Mimi chimes in, "the heat isn't even on. The place is vacant, remember?"
"Right," I say. "No one's here."
"Just ghosts," Liza whispers.
"Lots and lots of ghosts," Mimi says, arching her
69
eyebrows. She stuffs a couple more files into her coat, making me wonder what she plans to do with them.
"There's nothing here," I insist, for Liza's sake. "Look, I'll show you." I pull the door open, the hinges creaking like a crypt, and cast my headlight down the tunnel. It's dark and narrow with a series of arches that span the entire way. The walls are made of bricks, all painted over with white, but now chipping in places and covered with graffiti. An overhead pipe leaks water onto the floor, making a dripping sound. "See?" I say, trying to get a grip. "It's vacant."
"Holy yuck," Greta says, peering down the tunnel.
I aim the camera at Liza's face. "Are you okay?"
She shakes her head. "I really think we should leave. This place doesn't feel right. It doesn't want us here."
"How do you know?" Mimi asks, giving her lip ring a tug.
"Trust me," she insists. "I want to go back."
"Not funny," I say, feeling a chill pass over my shoulder.
"I'm not joking. Can you take me home?"
"Now?"
"We can't go back now," Mimi says. "We're here. We got in."
"It doesn't feel right," Liza snaps, enunciating the words like nobody's really hearing them.
"We could drop her off home and come back," Chet says. "Or, I could just drop her off...." He snakes his arm around Liza.
70
"Yeah, right," I say, totally getting his play. The guy thinks he's a freakin' superhero.
"If we leave, I refuse to come back," Greta says, repositioning her beret so that it sits crooked on her head. "I'm sorry I even agreed to this thing in the first place. I didn't even have time to squeeze in an appointment for highlights. My hair's going to look totally over-the-counter Clairol in this lighting."
"I'm starting to regret it myself," Tony says, holding his flashlight high, way above his head, as though trying to light up the shot.
I lower the camera a second, trying to decide what to do. It'd totally suck to botch this thing. I mean, this is my future we're talking about here.
"Get a grip," Mimi says, approaching Liza from the mound of files. "Think how much stronger you'll be as a result of this."
"You don't understand," Liza argues. "This isn't my kind of thing. My parents think I'm at a sleepover, for God's sake."
"Oh, and what, this is my type of thing?" Mimi says. "Or any of us, for that matter? You're not the only one who's scared, you know."
"You can stay close to me," Chet whispers to Liza.
"She'd be safer on a shock treatment table," Mimi says, pulling Liza away from Chet, like Liza's a wishbone or something.
I angle the camera to zoom in on Liza's face, adjusting
71
the shotgun mic so that it's positioned outward to pick everything up.
Liza looks right at me--right at the camera. "Please?"
I let out a sigh and lower the camera back down. "Are you serious?"
She nods.
"If she goes, I go," Greta says, pulling a cobweb off her shoulder. "I mean, I know about low budget, but this is downright hokey. What kind of director has his cast walk out on him barely an hour into the shoot?"
"Look," Tony says. "I think what Greta is trying to say is that, while we're all for supporting independent filmmaking--"
"Please," I bark, cutting him off. I focus hard on Liza. "This place is gonna be torn
A second later, we hear a knock at the basement door--the same door we're headed for, the one that leads into the tunnel.
"What the hell was that?" Greta blurts.
I place my finger over my lips to quiet everybody and then I move closer to the door and press my ear up against it. I can hear a faint pounding sound coming from somewhere in the tunnel. "I'll bet it's just a heat duct," I tell them, thinking how the one in my house makes a hell of a racket.
"That was no heat duct," Tony says, all defensive. "Someone was knocking."
"Plus," Mimi chimes in, "the heat isn't even on. The place is vacant, remember?"
"Right," I say. "No one's here."
"Just ghosts," Liza whispers.
"Lots and lots of ghosts," Mimi says, arching her
69
eyebrows. She stuffs a couple more files into her coat, making me wonder what she plans to do with them.
"There's nothing here," I insist, for Liza's sake. "Look, I'll show you." I pull the door open, the hinges creaking like a crypt, and cast my headlight down the tunnel. It's dark and narrow with a series of arches that span the entire way. The walls are made of bricks, all painted over with white, but now chipping in places and covered with graffiti. An overhead pipe leaks water onto the floor, making a dripping sound. "See?" I say, trying to get a grip. "It's vacant."
"Holy yuck," Greta says, peering down the tunnel.
I aim the camera at Liza's face. "Are you okay?"
She shakes her head. "I really think we should leave. This place doesn't feel right. It doesn't want us here."
"How do you know?" Mimi asks, giving her lip ring a tug.
"Trust me," she insists. "I want to go back."
"Not funny," I say, feeling a chill pass over my shoulder.
"I'm not joking. Can you take me home?"
"Now?"
"We can't go back now," Mimi says. "We're here. We got in."
"It doesn't feel right," Liza snaps, enunciating the words like nobody's really hearing them.
"We could drop her off home and come back," Chet says. "Or, I could just drop her off...." He snakes his arm around Liza.
70
"Yeah, right," I say, totally getting his play. The guy thinks he's a freakin' superhero.
"If we leave, I refuse to come back," Greta says, repositioning her beret so that it sits crooked on her head. "I'm sorry I even agreed to this thing in the first place. I didn't even have time to squeeze in an appointment for highlights. My hair's going to look totally over-the-counter Clairol in this lighting."
"I'm starting to regret it myself," Tony says, holding his flashlight high, way above his head, as though trying to light up the shot.
I lower the camera a second, trying to decide what to do. It'd totally suck to botch this thing. I mean, this is my future we're talking about here.
"Get a grip," Mimi says, approaching Liza from the mound of files. "Think how much stronger you'll be as a result of this."
"You don't understand," Liza argues. "This isn't my kind of thing. My parents think I'm at a sleepover, for God's sake."
"Oh, and what, this is my type of thing?" Mimi says. "Or any of us, for that matter? You're not the only one who's scared, you know."
"You can stay close to me," Chet whispers to Liza.
"She'd be safer on a shock treatment table," Mimi says, pulling Liza away from Chet, like Liza's a wishbone or something.
I angle the camera to zoom in on Liza's face, adjusting
71
the shotgun mic so that it's positioned outward to pick everything up.
Liza looks right at me--right at the camera. "Please?"
I let out a sigh and lower the camera back down. "Are you serious?"
She nods.
"If she goes, I go," Greta says, pulling a cobweb off her shoulder. "I mean, I know about low budget, but this is downright hokey. What kind of director has his cast walk out on him barely an hour into the shoot?"
"Look," Tony says. "I think what Greta is trying to say is that, while we're all for supporting independent filmmaking--"
"Please," I bark, cutting him off. I focus hard on Liza. "This place is gonna be torn
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