Ghost Walk

CHAPTER TWENTY

“But we’re not even open yet!”

“I don’t care,” Ken said, trying to refrain from shouting at the older man—Bill Goytre, a volunteer from the Lions Club. “Take a look out there in the road.”

“But it ain’t even dark. We don’t open until dark.”

“Tell that to the people who are showing up already, Bill. If we don’t have volunteers parking cars, it’s gonna be chaos. Now get your crew together and get over there in that field and start directing traffic. Please?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Bill ran off to muster his forces. Ken stared at the road in amazement. The number of cars already turning into the field was stunning—a creeping, unbroken line that stretched from the parking area to the road and beyond. Drivers wound their way through the field without direction, parking anywhere they chose.

“Jesus Christ…”

Ken hadn’t been this nervous since the night he’d proposed to Deena.

Greg Lineberger, one of the farmers who was in charge of the hayrides, approached him, leaning on a faded wooden cane. His cheek bulged with chewing tobacco.

“Looks like we’re gonna be swamped, Ken.”

“Yeah. Holy shit, they’re still coming.”

“Want us to open the trail early?”

Ken thought it over. “No, let’s stay on schedule. Wait until dusk, at least.”

“All right.” Greg looked up at the sky. “Reckon that will be soon enough anyway. The sun ain’t even set yet, but it’s already getting dark. Especially down there in the woods. Hope that doesn’t mean there’s a storm coming.”

“That’s all we need,” Ken agreed. “But no, I went online with my cell phone this afternoon and checked the weather. It’s not supposed to rain tonight.”

“Well, I’ll head on back to my tractor. You let us know when you’re ready.”

“Will do. And thanks again for your help.”

The old farmer gazed out at the snaking line of automobiles and spat tobacco juice in the grass. “Sure is an awful lot of people.”

After the old man left, Ken found that he had a rare moment of solitude. Seeing that the public was beginning to show up, most of the volunteers had gone into action. Ken massaged the back of his neck and sighed. He had a headache. He needed a beer. And there was still a lot to do. He had things to check on and phone calls to return. He’d been playing phone tag all morning with the cop investigating Sam and Rhonda’s disappearance. When they’d finally connected, the cop had assured him it was just a few routine questions. Supposedly, the detective was going to show up tonight, take the Ghost Walk, and then quickly interview him.

Ken surveyed the crowd. How the hell was the detective even going to find him with all these people? Ken couldn’t find anybody and he was the own er.

Walking back to the midway, Ken grabbed a battery-powered bullhorn and made an announcement.

“Folks, can I have your attention, please? Listen up! Can I have your attention?”

He waited for them to quiet down and focus on him.

“As you can see, we’ve got some early arrivals.”

The crowd cheered. A thunderous wave of applause rolled over him. Grinning, Ken waited for it to die down and then continued.

“We’re not opening the Ghost Walk until it’s dark enough in the woods. Shouldn’t be much longer, judging by the sky. But until then, people can buy their tickets and get in line. They can also walk the midway and check out your stands and booths. So consider this your five-minute warning. Get ready. We’ll open for business in five minutes.”

Another round of applause greeted this, along with cheers and whistles. Ken switched off the bullhorn and steeled himself.

He hoped that somewhere, somehow, Deena was watching. And if so, he hoped she was proud.

Nodens quivered in anticipation, feeling the walls thin around it.

Soon…

The forest shuddered.

“Look at this,” Maria exclaimed. “It’s unbelievable!”

She’d driven the same route she’d taken the night she interviewed Ken, from the city to the suburbs and then onto the rural back roads. That was where the trouble began. Southbound, there was more traffic than normal, and the closer to the Ghost Walk they got, the more congested the narrow roads became. Maria grumbled, forced to drive the speed limit, then below the speed limit, and then reduced to a crawl. Finally, traffic stopped altogether. A few drivers tried passing the congestion by driving south in the northbound lane, but after a few near misses with oncoming traffic, nobody else dared. One impatient driver honked his horn, but the rest sat patiently—families, couples, and carloads of teens, all on their way to the Ghost Walk, anticipating an evening of getting the shit scared out of them.

“Got to hand it to Ken,” Maria said. “He’s going to rake in a lot of money for charity tonight. I don’t think he had any idea it would be this big.”

“They may make a lot of money,” Levi agreed, “but they’ll never get to spend it if the living darkness is freed.”

Maria turned on the radio and switched it to a local news station. They listened to a commercial for a vacuum cleaner service and another for a steak house, and then the announcer came back on.

The top news story was Adam’s escape.

“Shit,” Adam said. “Well, I guess we knew this was coming. Wonder what they’ll say about me?”

“Listen,” Maria whispered, silencing him.

According to the newscaster, neither the local authorities nor the White Rose Mental Health Facility’s staff had been able to determine how Adam had escaped. Nor had they been able to locate him. The authorities did not know if he was still in the area, and were advising residents to be cautious. Adam was considered dangerous.

“I’m not dangerous,” he muttered in the backseat.

The announcer made a joke about how this was the perfect news story for Halloween, and then gave the weather and traffic report, including a mention of the traffic jam they were currently sitting in.

“Now he tells us,” Maria moaned. “Very helpful.”

“I’m not dangerous,” Adam repeated. “They act like I’m fucking crazy or something.”

Maria glanced in the rearview mirror. Adam’s left eyelid was twitching and his lips were pulled into a scowl. She turned the radio off and tried to calm him.

“We know, Adam. It’ll be okay.”

Levi grabbed the door handle. “Come on.”

“You have to piss?” Adam asked him.

Levi didn’t answer. Maria activated the power locks a second before Levi opened the door. He turned to her in annoyance.

“Unlock the door,” he demanded. “And the trunk, as well, please.”

“Where are you going?”

“To the Ghost Walk,” he said. “Leave the car right here. We’ll hike there.”

“Are you crazy? We’re still five miles away.”

“I’ve walked farther.”

“I haven’t.”

“Me either,” Adam said. “I didn’t exactly get a lot of exercise in the hospital.”

Levi pawed at the door handle. “Unlock this. We’ll leave the car here. That might help slow down this progression of traffic.”

“No way,” Maria balked. “I’m not abandoning my car in the middle of some country road, especially with all these people around. If you want to make an even bigger traffic jam, then you get out there and conjure up a demon or something.”

Before Levi could respond, traffic began to move again, albeit slowly. Maria eased her foot off the brake and the car rolled forward.

“Look,” she said. “We’re moving again. See? No worries.”

“Unlock the door, Maria.”

“Levi, we’re moving!”

“Not fast enough. We don’t have a choice, Maria. Look at the sun.”

She gazed out the windshield. The yellow orb was just beginning its slow descent beneath the horizon.

“Sunset. I know. But it will be another hour and a half or so before it’s dark out, and you said the walls won’t thin until midnight.”

Levi gritted his teeth. “No, I said that they’ll be at their thinnest at midnight. They’re already thinning. I also said that the entity is already seeping through, and gathering strength. We have to stop it before midnight—before it’s completely here. If it breaks through all the way, none of us will be strong enough to stand against it.”

“What does that have to do with the sun?”

“The enemy breached our world via the doorway in the hollow. As more and more of it pours through the gate, the surrounding area will grow darker. The more mass that enters our reality, the farther it can spread, continuing to feed in preparation for what’s to come. This gathering darkness has nothing to do with the sun. It is a false darkness, a manifestation of the entity. And with all of these people heading to the Ghost Walk, your friend, Mr. Ripple, will welcome an early dusk.”

Maria gasped. “He can open early if it’s dark enough…”

“Exactly.”

“Shit.”

“Yes.”

Maria took a deep breath and fastened her seat belt. Her fingers tightened around the steering wheel. The brake lights on the car in front of her flashed. The pro cession stopped again.

“Both of you buckle up,” Maria said.

“I’m comfortable,” Adam said, still sprawled and reading the newspaper.

“Put on your seat belts and hang on!”

“What are you doing?” Levi asked.

Maria swerved left and edged out into the northbound lane. Spotting no oncoming traffic, she stomped the accelerator. The car shot forward. Behind them, annoyed drivers blew their horns and made obscene gestures.

“I’m not crazy,” Adam said, reaching for his seat belt. “You are.”

The speedometer crept higher.

“After the last twenty-four hours?” Maria said. “Yeah, maybe I am.”

Adam turned pale. “We’re all going to die.”

“Not yet,” Levi said. “But perhaps before the night is through…”

The darkness began to spread beyond the confines of the hollow, creeping over the burned-out wasteland and reaching for the surrounding forest.

The crowd was getting restless.

They’d descended upon the midway, consuming cotton candy, funnel cakes, barbeque sandwiches, and candied apples. They spent money at the gaming booths, popping balloons with darts and tossing horse shoes and throwing soft balls at the elected officials in the dunk tank. They cooed over the baby animals in the petting zoo. They got free pens at the fire department’s booth, and free pamphlets from the Methodists’ table, and free bumper stickers from a congressional candidate stumping for votes. They stopped by the Baptists’ table, where a sign promised that they could find out if they were going to Heaven by answering three easy questions. They promised the representatives at the SPCA booth that they would spay and neuter their animals. They pointed at some of the people in costumes who walked amongst the crowd. But then, after all of these distractions, they purchased their tickets and got in line for the Ghost Walk. As the sky grew darker and the line grew longer, they milled about restlessly.

Ken watched them with growing unease. Some of the teenagers, and even a few adults, were starting to make trouble—roughhousing and annoying those around them. One man had already caused a scene, reacting belligerently when security pulled him out of line for being visibly intoxicated.

The volunteers were also growing impatient. The ladies running the bake sale weren’t doing much business because attendees didn’t want to carry a shoofly pie through the Ghost Walk with them. Therefore, customers were avoiding the stand, promising to come back on their way out. The folks selling tickets and policing the lines were dealing with a steadily growing mob. Tempers began to flare.

Ken hurried over to the ticket stand and pulled the person in charge, Sammi Horton, aside. She seemed frazzled and tired.

“Have you been in contact with the trail?” Ken asked.

“Yes. They want to know what the holdup is. They say it’s dark enough down there now.”

Ken checked his watch and the sky. “Really? The sun is still setting.”

Sammi shrugged. “That’s what they said.”

“Well, I wish someone had reported that to me. Where’s Terry at?”

“Haven’t seen him, Ken.”

“Shit.”

Ken stomped across the field and told the tractor and wagon teams to get ready. Then he returned to the head of the line, stepped over the stanchion, and advised his security volunteers to go ahead and open. He reminded them to let people go through in groups of twelve, with five-minute breaks between each group. Then he turned on his bullhorn and repeated the information to the people in line.

And then it was time. The sun disappeared below the horizon.

The Ghost Walk—Ken Ripple’s pride and joy, the project he’d worked on for over a year, the thing that had consumed his every waking moment, his testimony to his wife—was open for business.

His fears and misgivings vanished, along with his concerns for Terry and everything else—washed away by a tremendous swelling of pride.

The first group boarded the hay wagon. The tractor chugged forward, transporting them to the haunted attraction’s entrance. They reached it about the same time the second group boarded their wagon and set forth. The first group entered the woods.

Ken beamed. Blinking away tears, he watched them disappear into the shadows and waited for the screams to start.