Heavy ones.
The cabin grew even colder, making him shiver. He spun around in a panic.
“Wh-who’s there?” Barrie called out, even though he knew nobody could be in the cabin with him. That would have been impossible. Surely, he would have heard the heavy door opening. The hinges squealed something awful.
He listened hard, but silence descended over the cabin again. He shook his head and chuckled to himself.
“Wow, I’m such a scaredy-cat,” he muttered under his breath, thankful his friends weren’t here to witness it. What would the twin detectives in his books think? But then—
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Barrie felt a rush of fear surge through him. He’d had enough. He had to get out of there. His heart hammering, he turned and bolted toward the door, fleeing from the strange noise.
Barrie bolted from the cabin, slamming the door behind him.
Okay. You’re okay, he told himself.
And then another warm breath hit his neck. Barrie backed slowly away from the door. What if it was Captain Hook? What if he was mad Barrie had taken his hook? But that was impossible. The pirate captain had to be long dead. Plus, Barrie was sure that the cabin had been empty when he entered it, and no one had come in.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
It was coming from inside the cabin.
Barrie’s pulse thrummed in his ears. The ship felt even colder now.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
In a panic, Barrie turned and sprinted down the dark hallway, looking for the stairs. He was sure they’d been down this way, but he hit a dead end. He turned around and tried another hallway, but there was nothing down there except three more locked doors. He was trapped. Lightning flashed, lighting up the hall. He looked up—then jumped back in fear.
Out of the shadows, Captain Hook slashed at him with his sword.
“No, don’t hurt me,” Barrie yelped, jumping back. “I’ll give the hook back!”
He cowered, expecting a hook to impale him. But nothing happened. Barrie cracked one eye open. It wasn’t actually Captain Hook. Barrie was hovering under the oil painting from the tour. He let out a relieved breath, feeling foolish. In his panic, he’d thought the real pirate captain was here.
Captain Hook’s beady eyes bored into him from his portrait. His lips curved back into a vicious snarl. Give my hook back, ye scurvy brat! he seemed to be thinking.
Barrie stared at the painting. Maybe he should put the hook back, after all. He could feel the weight of it in his backpack and a sour feeling pooled in his stomach, making him feel slightly sick. Of course, the queasiness could have also been caused by the ship rocking on the ocean. The storm was churning up the waves, making it worse.
“Sorry, Captain—” he started to say to the painting. “I’ll—”
But then, he heard the creaking of the door to the captain’s cabin behind him, like it was swinging open of its own accord. The squeal cut through the hall.
Thump-thump. Thump-thump.
Barrie’s heart seized up. The footsteps were coming for him.
Blindly, he pivoted and found himself tripping up the stairs. The stairs! Once he got his bearings, he took them two at a time, climbing to the upper deck. The wood was slick, and he slid forward, almost face-planting. He caught himself only at the last second, barely avoiding a calamitous plunge overboard. His eyes cut to the plank that jutted out over the ocean. How many poor souls had lost their lives walking off it?
As he scanned the deck looking for the tour, the frigid wind cut through him. The storm had intensified overhead. Raindrops pelted his face. But it was something more than that. It felt like someone—or something—was chasing him.
Something unnatural.
He remembered the warm breath on his neck in the captain’s cabin. How every time he turned around, nothing was there. The strange shadows behind the tarps. The way the temperature seemed to drop suddenly. And where did that storm come from? That’s when his mind jolted to his mystery books. They often featured haunted houses or haunted islands.
What if the pirate ship is haunted?
And if it was haunted, then it was probably…Captain Hook’s ghost.