Zara, The Ghost Zapper Read online

  Would you like a FREE book?

  Here are just a few from the huge list you can choose from for FREE…

  If you subscribe to our website Best Selling Books for Kids you can select any single ebook of your choice for FREE! We will also keep you updated on all our new releases, special deals and send you further free books from time to time, just to say thank you for being a valued subscriber.

  Click Here to Get Started

  GHOST BUSTERS

  Zara, the Ghost Zapper

  Book 1

  Girls Only!

  Katrina Kahler & John Zakour

  Copyright © KC Global Enterprises Pty Ltd

  All Rights Reserved

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: The Night Before

  Chapter 2: A Strange Awakening

  Chapter 3: First Training

  Chapter 4: Grandpa’s Back

  Chapter 5: Walking Talking Balking

  Chapter 6: Home Sweet Home?

  Chapter 7: Communication

  Chapter 8: Thinking

  Chapter 9: School Daze

  Chapter 10: By The Numbers

  Chapter 11: The Teacher, The Counselor, and The Charmer

  Chapter 12: Basement Blues

  Chapter 13: The Name Game

  Chapter 14: Harry Barns!

  Chapter 1: The Night Before

  I felt a chill. Looking down a long dark, shadowy arm had grabbed my leg from under the couch.

  “What is that!” I said, quickly pulling my leg up away from the clawed fingers.

  A dark shadow creature, leapt out from under the couch. It had the shape of a tall, creepy looking man. For some reason I stayed calm.

  “Zara, you can never stop us!” the ghostly shadow screamed at me. Actually spraying me with some sort of yellow goop.

  “Oh yuck,” I said standing up. I took a fighting stance. “Listen icky gross thing, you’re dealing with the second youngest black belt in Hallow Falls’ history!” I bragged.

  The shadow let out a laugh that made me shiver. “Silly human! You are no match for me…” He pointed to my feet. “Besides you are standing on the couch with shoes on. How rude!”

  He had a point. Grandma Betty would not approve of that. “Then maybe I should get my feet off the couch!”

  I threw a flying kick at the shadow hitting it right in the jaw! The shadow shattered into a series of jigsaw puzzle pieces and crashed to the ground.

  ***

  I heard, “Zara wake up, you’re moving and mumbling!”

  My eyes popped open, there sat my best friend Maria Lopez looking kind of confused. “You fell asleep,” Maria said poking me.

  “Sorry,” I said, looking around the room. “I had a weird dream.”

  I found it strange that I had fallen asleep. I love my Friday night sitting at home, munching on popcorn and eating pizza while watching a movie with Maria and my grandma, Betty. Sure not the most exciting evening but after a week of school I enjoyed just relaxing and recharging. Besides, I liked hanging out with Maria and Grandma. Maria has been my best friend for years. Grandma may be way old, like at least 50, but she is still cool.

  Maria and I sat on next to each other on the couch with Grandma along side us in her rocking chair.

  This week Grandma got to choose the movie and she picked her favorite of all time: Ghostbusters. I really loved that movie. That had to be why I had that weird dream.

  Maria leaned over and nudged me, “Pause the movie right here for a minute Zara, I need to go to the toilet.”

  “Really,” I complained...with a smile, so Maria knew I didn’t mean it.

  Maria stood up and playfully messed up my hair. “Just do it! We may be best friends, but you know what my bladder is like…when I have to go, clear the pathway!” She reinforced her words with a small smile.

  I did as Maria said. We’ve been neighbors forever. I can’t remember ever seeing Maria without her long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail or without wearing some type of hat, cap or beanie. Once or twice in the last year, I’ve thought of asking her why she never changes her hairstyle, but couldn’t figure out how to ask without possibly insulting her.

  “Are you ready for the big day tomorrow?” Grandma asked.

  “Turning twelve isn’t a big deal,” I said. “Still not old enough to drive. Still not old enough to do anything.”

  Grandma smiled at me. “It seems like just yesterday you were a little girl who loved to hear my ghost stories at bedtime.”

  Yeah, I actually sort of missed that. Grandma told the best, scariest ghost stories, the kind that made me very concerned about my limbs hanging over the mattress. With her story finished, she’d smooth my hair away from my face and quietly say good night before tiptoeing from my bedroom. Feeling her hand on my head right before falling asleep reminded me that I was safe.

  “I’m too old for bedtime stories,” I grumbled. “I’ll settle for watching ghosts being busted on TV.”

  Grandma nodded, smile locked on her face. “True,” she said with just a hint of sadness. “Still, hard to believe you’re going to be twelve tomorrow.”

  “I’m sure I’ll wake up tomorrow feeling no different than today,” I told her.

  Maria came back and plopped down on the couch next to me, making me spill my popcorn. She giggled.

  “Zara,” Maria said, “I’m betting twelve is going to be great for you.”

  “You turned twelve a few weeks ago. Do you feel any different?” I asked her.

  Maria took a sip from her soda. “You’d be surprised,” she said, looking ahead at the television. “Unpause the movie, I want to see how it ends. Even though I live right next door my parents will freak if I’m not home by ten.”

  Chapter 2: A Strange Awakening

  “Zara! Wakey wakey!” a high-pitched voice shouted.

  I tried to ignore the annoying sound that was assaulting my eardrums. Cracking my eyelids, I peered out my window; the sun had poked its way up, but just barely. I longed to stay nice and warm, wrapped under my covers for a few more minutes. I closed my eyes and spun away from the voice.

  I felt a tiny bit of weight on my chest, which I ignored. “Happy birthday, Zara!” the voice squeaked. The weight popped off me. The weight popped back on me. “Now, up! Up! UP!” With each word, the weight popped off me, then on me, off me, then on me.

  It hit me, something small kept jumping up and down on me. My eyes shot open.

  I saw my little brown hamster, Hammy (not the best name, but give me a break; I was a little kid when I named him) standing on my chest. This had to be a dream. A very weird dream brought on by last night’s movie and too much spicy pizza. I closed my eyes, figuring I could shake myself out of this dream and that, when I woke up for real, Hammy would be in his cage and definitely not talking.

  Eyes closed, I felt four little feet walking up towards my head then a little fist tapped me on the chin.

  “Hello! Hello! Time to wake up! Happy happy happity birthday!” A pause. Another couple of taps. “Come on, Zara. I know you’re in there.”

  “This is the weirdest dream I’ve ever had,” I mumbled. I opened one eye and found myself eye to eye with Hammy.

  Hammy stood up on two legs, shaking his head. “Nope. Not a dream. Yesterday wasn’t a dream either. It was your first test!”

  I forced open both eyes and sat up in bed. Hammy rolled off me, falling to the floor.

  “Yikes!”

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “No problem. Hamsters are tough.” Hammy called up from the floor. “Zara, we need to talk.”

  I sat up in bed, letting my feet dangle over the side. Glaring down at the floor I grumbled, “No we don’t. Th
is is just another weird dream.”

  Hammy rushed over and bit me hard on my big toe.

  “Ouch!” I yelled, pulling my foot away. “Why’d you do that?”

  “To prove to you that you aren’t dreaming Zara.”

  I started rubbing my foot. “Did you have to bite me?”

  “You don’t feel pain in your dreams. Do you?”

  “Nope,” I said.

  Hammy lifted his forearms off the ground, “So, see? Not a dream. I rest my case.”

  “You couldn’t find a less painful way?”

  “Probably, but that would waste time. Besides, your feet taste like stinky cheese.” Hammy leapt up beside me on the bed and tapped me on the knee. “But enough about your gross feet. We have important issues to discuss. I’m so glad that you are FINALLY twelve! It seems like it took forever.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Now that you are twelve, it’s time for you to begin your official duties.”

  “I’m twelve,” I protested. “My official duties are to watch TV, surf the web, go shopping and hang out with my friends and take out the trash once a week.”

  “You can still do all that. Just only sometimes instead of all the time,” Hammy said. “You can still go online, but you’ll have to spend more time using it for research.”

  Having a conversation with my hamster had me confused enough on its own. But I found his words even more confusing. “You’ve lost me, Hammy.”

  Hammy crawled up my arm and patted me on the shoulder. “That’s okay. Your mom got all confused when I first told her, too.”

  “You’ve never met my mom!” I replied. “She’s been on an archeology dig in Egypt for the last two years with dad. I got you right after they left.”

  “True, true,” Hammy nodded rapidly. “But your mom was in my care before you.”

  “In your care?” I asked. “What are you talking about? You’re a hamster!”

  “Yes, I am a hamster, but I’m also a trainer of ghost hunters or zappers,” the little hamster said solemnly. “Zara, you, like your mom, are a ghost hunter or zapper.” He itched his head with his back foot. “It used to be called ghost hunters but now some prefer the term zappers, less violent and cooler!”

  Chapter 3: First Training

  I got up out of bed, knees and ankles cracking as I stood. The ache in my toe let me know I was awake.

  “I’m not a ghost hunter or zapper,” I said firmly. “I’m just a normal girl...who is talking to a hamster.” At this stage I was wondering if I was actually going insane.

  Hammy looked up at me from the floor. “Do you know what a ghost hunter is?”

  I gazed down at him and scratched my head. “Sure, I watch them on TV now and then. They’re dudes with special equipment that hang out in castles trying to record ghosts.”

  Hammy shook his head and held out a paw. “No, no, no!” he shouted. “Fakes all of them! That’s another reason why we started using zappers!”

  “Ah, okay, if you say so,” I told him. Not sure why that got him all fired up, but I knew he’d tell me.

  “A ghost hunter, a real ghost hunter, is a person who hunts out ghosts in every day places. They don’t record them. Ghost hunters zap ghosts back to where they belong,” Hammy lectured.

  “I’ve never done any of that,” I shrugged. “So, I am definitely not a ghost hunter or zapper.”

  “You, Zara,” Hammy stood up on his hind legs and pointed at me, “are a ghost hunter. You’re just not a very good one, yet. I haven’t trained you. But don’t fret, we’ll start now. You passed the initial test last night by fending off the shadow under the bed.”

  “Whatever,” I waved him off. “You’re a hamster. You spend all day running around a wheel in a cage.” I pointed at his cage on my desk just to remind him.

  “It keeps me in shape,” Hammy protested. “Plus, it lets me do a lot of thinking and studying. Besides,” he caught his breath for a second then continued, “I do other things when you aren’t here. I just couldn’t let on until today.”

  “Why today?”

  Hammy sighed. “Because age twelve is mature enough to understand, yet still young enough to believe.” Hammy’s ears went flat back against his head.

  “Here’s your first lesson: things aren’t always what they seem.”

  “Yeah, I see that,” I said with a nod.

  Hammy levitated off the bed, hovered in mid-air for a minute, then floated over to the desk before turning back to me.

  “Second lesson: you can do a lot more than you think you can.” Hammy concentrated on the wheel in his cage. The wheel started spinning faster and faster until it became a blur.

  “Ah, wow,” I said.

  “I’m just warming up,” Hammy said gleefully, his butt shaking furiously. “I love finally being able to be myself in front of you.” His tail pointed down at a spot under my bed then flicked towards the desk. At his tail’s command, a bunch of large, brown leather-bound books slid out from under my bed and took off for my desk. “This is some of your reading material. I’ve also emailed you websites with helpful information.” Hammy pointed to the desk, summoning a chart that I’d never seen lying there before. “Ghost activity has been down for a couple of years, but it’s kicking back up. I made this cool chart.”

  I walked over to the desk and grabbed the chart. It had a yellow line that started straight but then angled upwards. It was labeled GHOST ACTIVITY FOR THE YEAR.

  “Can I do that?” I asked.

  “Make charts? Of course,” Hammy said. He jumped on my shoulder. “As you can see, ghost activity is on the rise!”

  “I meant move things with my mind!” I said impatiently.

  “Well, not now. But, with training.”

  I started sorting through the pile of books.

  War And Peace

  The Guide to Good Manners

  Pressure Points for Dummies

  Healthy Mind Healthy Body

  A Spider-Man graphic novel

  Ghost Hunting and Zapping 101

  “What do most of these have to do with being a ghost hunter?”

  “A good ghost hunter or zapper should be well rounded,” Hammy said, tapping me on the ear.

  “Stop tapping me like that!” I brushed his paw away. “When can I start real training? Not just...” I picked the largest book up from the pile and read the title – “War and Peace.”

  Hammy sniffed the air. “Betty is cooking birthday pancakes. From the scent, I’d say we’ve got three minutes. Let’s start off with a quick lesson.”

  Hammy held out a forepaw, pointing at his cage. The wheel stopped spinning as suddenly as it started. “Now it’s your turn. Spin it with your mind.”

  I concentrated on the wheel of the cage. Nothing happened.

  “Take a deep breath,” Hammy ordered.

  I did.

  “Now let it out,” Hammy said.

  I exhaled, trying not to think too much about being bossed around by a hamster.

  Hammy waved a paw in front of his face, “Wow, take a breath mint!” He shook his head then pointed at the cage, getting his mind back to the business of my mind. “Look at the wheel in the cage,” Hammy commanded. “Now see it move in your mind.”

  I looked at the wheel, squinted my eyes, and furrowed my brow. I tried to push the wheel forward.

  “You look constipated!” Hammy shouted. “You’re trying too hard! Your mind and body must be relaxed. You have to try without trying.”

  Try without trying? That made less sense than me being a ghost hunter with a talking hamster sensei. I set my focus on the wheel and relaxed. I breathed in deeply and let it out. I pictured the wheel spinning forward...

  The wheel twitched!

  “Did you see that?” I shouted. “It moved!”

  Hammy nodded. “It might’ve just been your bad breath, but it’s a start.”

  “Zara! Breakfast!” Grandma called from downstairs. “Pancakes with chocolate sauce and butterscotch bits!”


  Oh, that sounded so good. “Grandma will freak when she learns about this!” I stopped and thought for a second. Did she know? Had this happened to her? “Can I tell her?” I asked Hammy.

  “Just go downstairs. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

  Downstairs, Grandma sat at the breakfast table sipping coffee. Standing at the end of the table was a white haired, balding man with a walking stick. I recognized him as my Grandpa Mick.

  I found this very strange as Grandma Mick had died a few years ago plus I could see through him.

  Chapter 4: Grandpa’s Back

  Grandpa Mick smiled and said, “Happy birthday Zara.”

  “Uh...Hi...Gramps…”

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Grandpa said through a grin.

  Grandma stood up from the table, giving Grandpa her angry look. “Take it easy on the girl, Mickey,” she scolded. “This is a big day for her. A lot to soak in.” Grandma gave me a kiss on the cheek. “Sit. I’ll get your pancakes.”

  Sitting down at the table, I couldn’t keep my eyes off of Grandpa. “Grandpa Mick...I...I can’t...believe it’s you.”

  Grandpa lifted up one hip and let out a big fart. “Now can you believe it?”

  The sound of the fart echoed off the walls. Grandpa loved his farts.

  “Mickey!” Grandma scolded.

  Grandpa just grinned. “It was just a ghost fart, Betty. You know those don’t stink unless I want ‘em to stink.” He leaned toward me and said, “Then they could drop a horse at fifty feet.”

  Grandma shook her finger at him. “Mickey! Manners!”

  Grandpa lowered his head. “Sorry,” he said softly. He winked at me and let another fart rip. Yep, definitely, Grandpa Mick.

  “I’m here to help you, Zara. But, more on that after you eat,” Grandpa said.

  Grandma set a plate of birthday pancakes in front of me. The pancakes had thirteen lit candles sticking out from them.

  “Blow out the candles,” Grandma said. “The extra candle is meant to signify your growth this year, mentally and physically.”