Are You in the House Alone?

Informationen zum Autor Richard Peck lives in New York City. His extensive list of honors includes the Newbery Medal, the Edgar Award, the Margaret A. Edwards Award, and the National Humanities Medal. He has twice been a finalist for the National Book Award. Klappentext An updated look for the classic YA thriller from genre heavyweight Richard Peck Sixteen-year-old Gail is living the upper-class suburban life when she begins receiving terrifying phone calls and notes in her locker. And the calls keep coming. When she's attacked by the town's golden boy everyone refuses to take action against him and his powerful family. A frightening drama that deals with heavy teen issues and the idea of justice (or lack thereof) from bestselling author Richard Peck. I eased the receiver back on the cradle, and the minuteno, the second I took my hand away, the phone rang. It was almost supernatural. When the receiver was next to my ear again, it was still warm. And there at the other end was the most terrifying voice I'd ever heard. Sometimes I still hear it, just as I'm going to sleep or in a room that's too quiet. It wasn't quite human. Neither male nor female. A high, hollow voice, someone crying out the words from the inside of a bell. Disguised, falsetto, almost like a child shrieking. But more controlled than that because I understood every word. ARE YOU IN THE HOUSE ALONE? There was a sobbing, whistling laugh. It was too terrible to be real. And too real to be a horror movie. If there'd been a hundred people in the house with me, all ready to defend the place, I'd still have been paralyzed. And then that voice again. ARE YOU IN THE HOUSE ALONE? Also by Richard Peck NOVELS Amanda /Miranda Bel-Air Bambi and the Mall Rats Blossom Culp and the Sleep of Death Close Enough to Touch Don't Look and It Won't Hurt The Dreadful Future of Blossom Culp Dreamland Lake Fair Weather Father Figure The Ghost Belonged to Me Ghosts I Have Been The Great Interactive Dream Machine Here Lies the Librarian The Last Safe Place on Earth A Long Way from Chicago Lost in Cyberspace On the Wings of Heroes Princess Ashley Remembering the Good Times Representing Super Doll The River Between Us A Season of Gifts Secrets at Sea Secrets of the Shopping Mall Strays Like Us The Teacher's Funeral Those Summer Girls I Never Met Three-Quarters Dead Through a Brief Darkness Unfinished Portrait of Jessica Voices After Midnight A Year Down Yonder NOVELS FOR ADULTS Amanda/Miranda London Holiday New York Time This Family of Women SHORT STORIES Past Perfect, Present Tense PICTURE BOOK Monster Night at Grandma's House NONFICTION Anonymously Yours Invitations to the World Richard Peck are you in the house alone? Table of Contents PROLOGUE From the first warm night of spring until autumn, Steve and I would slip out to the Pastorinis' cottage on the lake, Powdermill Lake. How often? Ten times? Twelve? I don't remember now. I kept no diary. We left no clues. All our fantasies, Steve's and mine, seemed to come true in that little dark corner of time. We thought that making love was being in love. I never wanted to imagine what might come next. That would have spoiled everything. The best part was the way we seemed to be absolutely alone together. And now I know ...

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An updated look for the classic YA thriller from genre heavyweight Richard Peck

Sixteen-year-old Gail is living the upper-class suburban life when she begins receiving terrifying phone calls and notes in her locker. And the calls keep coming. When she's attacked by the town's golden boy everyone refuses to take action against him and his powerful family. A frightening drama that deals with heavy teen issues and the idea of justice (or lack thereof) from bestselling author Richard Peck.

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I eased the receiver back on the cradle, and the minute—no, the second I took my hand away, the phone rang. It was almost supernatural. When the receiver was next to my ear again, it was still warm.

And there at the other end was the most terrifying voice I’d ever heard. Sometimes I still hear it, just as I’m going to sleep or in a room that’s too quiet. It wasn’t quite human. Neither male nor female. A high, hollow voice, someone crying out the words from the inside of a bell. Disguised, falsetto, almost like a child shrieking. But more controlled than that because I understood every word.

“ARE YOU IN THE HOUSE ALONE?”

There was a sobbing, whistling laugh. It was too terrible to be real. And too real to be a horror movie. If there’d been a hundred people in the house with me, all ready to defend the place, I’d still have been paralyzed.

And then that voice again.

“ARE YOU IN THE HOUSE ALONE?”

Also by Richard Peck

NOVELS

Amanda /Miranda

Bel-Air Bambi and the Mall Rats

Blossom Culp and the Sleep of Death

Close Enough to Touch

Don’t Look and It Won’t Hurt

The Dreadful Future of Blossom Culp

Dreamland Lake

Fair Weather

Father Figure

The Ghost Belonged to Me

Ghosts I Have Been

The Great Interactive Dream Machine

Here Lies the Librarian

The Last Safe Place on Earth

A Long Way from Chicago

Lost in Cyberspace

On the Wings of Heroes

Princess Ashley

Remembering the Good Times

Representing Super Doll

The River Between Us

A Season of Gifts

Secrets at Sea

Secrets of the Shopping Mall

Strays Like Us

The Teacher’s Funeral

Those Summer Girls I Never Met

Three-Quarters Dead

Through a Brief Darkness

Unfinished Portrait of Jessica

Voices After Midnight

A Year Down Yonder

NOVELS FOR ADULTS

Amanda/Miranda

London Holiday

New York Time

This Family of Women

SHORT STORIES

Past Perfect, Present Tense

PICTURE BOOK

Monster Night at Grandma’s House

NONFICTION

Anonymously Yours

Invitations to the World

Richard Peck

are you in
the house alone?

Table of Contents

PROLOGUE

From the first warm night of spring until autumn, Steve and I would slip out to the Pastorinis’ cottage on the lake, Powdermill Lake. How often? Ten times? Twelve? I don’t remember now. I kept no diary. We left no clues.

All our fantasies, Steve’s and mine, seemed to come true in that little dark corner of time. We thought that making love was being in love. I never wanted to imagine what might come next. That would have spoiled everything. The best part was the way we seemed to be absolutely alone together. And now I know we weren’t alone out there at all. Someone was watching us, maybe every time.

We’d leave our clothes in a heap before the cold stove in the cottage. Then we’d bang back the screen door and pound down the sloping lawn to the pier, our footsteps rumbling on the boards like thunder. And then we’d dive into the lake.

I remember one October night when it was still as warm as August. I remember it because it was nearly the last time. There was sheet lightning over the Connecticut hills to the north, and the steamy mist rolled off the center of the lake. The surface of the water wrinkled with raindrops all around the white circle of Steve’s head, and his arms wavered just below the surface. I stood with my toes hooked around the end of the pier, wet already from the rain. But I hung there, almost overbalanced, before I plunged into the black water.

For some reason I’d grabbed up my yellow slicker and held it over my head all the way to the end of the pier. Then I let it drop, and it collapsed there at my feet like a parachute. Steve floated farther out on his back, and I could see the length of his body luminous in the darkness. The lake was shallow a hundred yards out. It was always exciting, never dangerous. Befor…