Ghost Walk

CHAPTER NINETEEN

“Son of a bitch. You’ve got to be shitting me!”

“I wish I was, Ken, but I ain’t. The generator just won’t start. Don’t know what the hell is wrong with it. I’ve tried everything.”

Biting his lip in frustration, Ken breathed through his nose, feeling his blood pressure rise. It was just after one in the afternoon, and the Ghost Walk swarmed with people—volunteers, vendors, delivery personnel, community officials, and a handful of people from the media. They bustled about like ants, busy with a hundred different tasks, all of which apparently needed Ken’s input or approval. It had started the moment he’d arrived. Before he’d even got out of his truck, he’d been besieged by two delivery drivers and a half dozen early volunteers, each voicing a different concern and needing an immediate answer. Now, several hours later, it showed no signs of abating. If anything, the demands for his time and attention were getting worse.

Dennis can’t find his mask. Neil can’t find the keys to the storage trailer. The deliveryman can’t find a pen so I can sign the bill of lading for these fucking pumpkins. Lisa needs a hammer. Jerry needs a hand setting up. Arlene needs help finding her hiding spot along the trail. Stephanie has to leave early. Greg won’t get here until later. Diana’s ice-cream truck got a flat. The french fry stand doesn’t have electricity. The pterodactyl isn’t working. Bayer lost his saw and needs another. Tessa needs some petty cash to buy a wig. Doug hurt his thumb and needs to have it looked at.

“And I need an Advil,” Ken muttered. “Or a beer. Or both.”

“What’s that, Mr. Ripple?”

Blinking, Ken focused on the man. He couldn’t even remember the guy’s name.

“Nothing,” Ken apologized. “Just a little distracted. Look, I don’t know a lot about generators. But obviously, we’re going to need it fixed by tonight. Or else we need a replacement. Either way, we don’t have much time. What are you driving…I’m sorry?”

“Craig.”

“Craig. Sorry. Got a lot of names to remember. What are you driving?”

“I got a truck.”

“Great! Tell you what. Do you know where Harvey’s Rent All is?”

Craig nodded. “Over near the hospital.”

“Right! Can you do me a favor? Take a drive on over there. Tell them we need another generator and that they should put it on my account. Have them test it for you before you bring it back here. Keep track of your mileage and get a receipt for your gas, and I’ll make sure we pay you out of petty cash tonight. Okay?”

Nodding, Craig dashed off. Ken sighed, turned to take care of the five things he’d been working on before Craig interrupted him, and then got sidetracked again by David Tate.

“Hey, Ken,” the man called, running toward him across the field. “You got a second?”

“Exactly one second, Dave. What’s up?”

“I told Terry yesterday that we needed some more plastic sheeting. I just checked the storage trailer, but I couldn’t find any.”

Ken paused. Terry. He’d forgotten all about him. Terry and Tom. Cecil and the others. He’d been so consumed with operations, so caught up in the hectic goings-on and a million other little details and crises, that he’d completely forgotten to check in with them and confirm that everything was okay.

“Listen,” Ken said. “Have you seen Terry, today? Or Tom?”

Dave grinned. “Hell, Ken, there must be two hundred people here, and we ain’t even open yet. I may have. I can’t remember. I know I saw Terry’s vehicle earlier.”

Ken glanced over at the parking area. It was full of cars and trucks. Row upon row of them—too many for him to spot Terry’s with any ease. He tried to remember exactly where Terry had been parked the night before, but couldn’t.

“You sure?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Dave said. “I parked near it. Definitely his. And I think I saw Tom earlier, too.”

“You’re absolutely positive?”

“Ken,” Dave said, “I’m sure they’re just as busy as you right now. Maybe more. Knowing Terry, he’s running interference for you. Now what about the plastic sheeting?”

Ken sighed with relief. Dave had verified that Terry was here today, and he was fairly certain he’d seen Tom. And what he was suggesting made an awful lot of sense. Terry probably was busy. Zero hour was approaching rapidly. They’d catch up with one another tonight, at the midnight party. Until then, he had to assume that Cecil and the others had been found safe and sound. Otherwise, Terry would have let him know.

“What about the plastic?” Dave repeated.

Before Ken could answer him, two more people walked toward them, calling Ken’s name.

“Check the other trailer,” Ken told him. “If it’s not there, then they must be using it somewhere on the trail. You’ll have to track it down.”

Nodding, Dave walked away.

Ken grimaced as the others approached. Both of them were already talking.

“No rest for the wicked,” Ken said under his breath. “No rest at all…”

Passing its zenith, the sun slowly began its afternoon descent.

Maria opened her eyes and screamed. Levi stood over her bed, peering down at her. She scrambled halfway across the bed, another shriek dying in her throat. Her hands clutched the sheets. Her heart pounded at jackhammer speed.

“Oh my God…”

“I’m sorry,” Levi apologized. “It’s just after two in the afternoon. I’ve been trying to wake you for the last five minutes. I called your name but you didn’t stir.”

“You scared the shit out of me—again. Damn it, Levi…”

She paused, sniffing the air.

“What do I smell?”

Levi winked, bowing slightly. “Breakfast. Well, technically, it’s lunch. Or brunch. But I made breakfast.”

She breathed deep through her nose, savoring the aroma of fried bacon and eggs. Her mouth watered.

“You made breakfast? You can cook?”

Levi flinched. “Don’t sound so surprised. All Amish men can cook. That’s how we keep our women happy.”

“But you’re not Amish anymore.”

He grinned. “Well, I still like to make women happy.”

Maria blushed and looked away. Clearing his throat, Levi quickly stepped backward.

“Why don’t you go ahead and grab a shower,” he suggested. “And change.”

“Are you saying I stink?”

“No,” he laughed. “Actually, we should hurry. But I’m sure you want to freshen up a bit. We’ll wait for you in the kitchen. Although I’m afraid Adam has already started eating.”

“How’s he doing? Any better?”

Levi made a seesaw motion with his hand. “He’s pretty quiet. I think he’s most likely depressed. It’s probably starting to sink in that he’s on the run. And I imagine that without his daily dose of whatever medication they had him on, there will be mood complications. We need him compliant and cooperative. Let’s just try to steer the conversation away from his wife and friends. At least until we get to the Ghost Walk.”

“And what happens then?”

“God’s will.”

“Is that all?”

Levi shook his head. “Go shower. I’ll fix you a plate and keep it warm.”

“Okay.” Stretching, she got out of bed. “Don’t let Adam eat it all. It really smells good, and I’m starved.”

As if to prove her point, Maria’s stomach grumbled.

Blushing again, she giggled.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Levi said.

“Told you I was hungry.”

After he’d left, Maria shut the bedroom door and then stepped into the bathroom. She closed the bathroom door behind her as well, and turned on the exhaust fan. Then she began stripping off yesterday’s clothes and tossing them in the hamper.

“Gross,” she muttered as she pulled off her jeans. “These could stand up on their own at this point.”

Finished, she turned on the shower and let it run. Then she lit a vanilla-scented candle. While the water heated, she sat down on the toilet. Steam filled the bathroom, coating her body and opening her pores. Maria sighed. She already felt better and she hadn’t even cleaned up yet. She got up from the toilet, remembering not to flush because when she did while the shower was running, the water’s temperature became scalding. Then she pulled back the shower curtain and slipped beneath the spray. The hot water drummed against her scalp, soaking her hair and running down her back and breasts. It felt luxurious. She stood there for several minutes, just enjoying the sensation. She whistled and hummed. Then she grabbed her loofa and some vanilla bean body wash, and scrubbed, lathering herself in bubbles. Her stomach rumbled again as she rinsed.

Reluctantly, Maria turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. She dried off quickly, wrapped her hair in a towel, and brushed her teeth. Then she got dressed. She chose a sweatshirt and jeans, and pulled her still-damp hair into a ponytail. She put on a ball cap, and then looked at herself in the full-length mirror. Maria liked what she saw. She was a new woman.

Except for the dark circles under her eyes.

“New woman, hell. I look like shit.”

She opened the bedroom door and walked out into the kitchenette, catching Adam and Levi in midconversation. Both were seated at her tiny table. Adam was polishing off what she assumed was his second plate of bacon and eggs, along with fried potatoes. A half-empty glass of water and a cup of coffee sat in front of him.

“So, anyway,” he said around a mouthful of potatoes, “those were the only three I had published. Cold As Ice, Heart of the Matter and When the Rain Comes. I started a book about the Civil War. It was supposed to be my big literary breakthrough novel. Was going to get me out of the midlist genre ghetto. Make me some real money. But I never got the chance to finish it. I guess I sort of lost my stomach for it, after…”

His voice trailed off. A shadow passed over his face.

Sensing his impending mood change, Levi tried to change the subject.

“Did they let you write in the hospital? Surely, they wouldn’t let a man of such God-given talents squander his abilities.”

Adam’s laugh was short and humorless. “Sure. They encouraged it, in fact. But they wanted me to write about what had happened, and I’d had enough of that. Everything an author writes is to some extent autobiographical. Our joys and fears, good times and bad, the people we meet in life—all of that is fodder for the muse. Especially the bad stuff. It’s like you cut open a vein and bleed out onto the page. But writing about Tara and Hylinus and the babies and Big Steve and all the rest? That wouldn’t have been bleeding for my work. It would have been a fucking hemorrhage.”

“So you didn’t write?” Levi kept his voice calm and level.

“Oh, I wrote.” Adam devoured another slice of bacon. “What little I could, with crayons and paper. But I didn’t let them see it. No way. I couldn’t. If I had, they would have made it worse on me.”

“Why? What did you write about?”

Adam leaned forward, lowering his voice. “I started a new novel. I called it, Darkest of Dark. It was all about this thing we’re fighting—He Who Shall Not Be Named.”

Levi flinched, taken aback. His hands gripped the table. His knuckles were white. When he spoke, his voice was barely a whisper.

“But how—”

“How did I know? Coincidence. I read those books. Read LeHorn’s journal. That’s all.”

“Adam,” Levi said, “tell me the truth.”

“Okay, you caught me. I wrote about it because Tara came to me in my dreams. She told me a living darkness was coming. It would sweep across the land, consuming everything in its path. A darkness that was darker than dark. Something that could not be named. But we know what the name is, don’t we, Levi? Its name is No—”

“Stop! Don’t finish that sentence. Don’t speak it out loud!”

“I’m not afraid of it!” Adam yelled, instantly changing from conversational to combative. “Not Hylinus. Not God. Not Nod—”

“Hey,” Maria interrupted, making her presence known. She sensed the tension in the air, saw which direction the conversation was heading again. Mindful of Levi’s warnings to keep Adam happy and calm, she tried to distract him. “I hope you saved some for me, Adam.”

His demeanor changed again. Smiling, he nodded, sweeping his hand above the table.

“Oh, yeah,” he said. “Check it out. Levi’s not too bad of a cook. He even chopped up some onions and fried them in with the potatoes.”

“I would have added peppers,” Levi said, “but I couldn’t find any.”

“I’m surprised you found what you did,” Maria said, sitting down. “I’ll have to check my fridge more often. I didn’t know all of this was in there.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Some more of your magic, Levi? Don’t tell me you conjured all this up. I’m willing to believe a lot, but that’s stretching it.”

“No magic,” he said, setting her plate down in front of her. “While the two of you were still sleeping, I walked to the store. That was where I couldn’t find the peppers.”

Maria tried a forkful of eggs. Her eyes closed and she moaned with delight.

“These are delicious.”

“I’m glad you like them. Not to rush you, but as soon as the two of you are finished, we should leave.”

“So, did you get any sleep at all?”

Levi nodded. “Enough for what needs to be done. I rested. Studied. Prepared.”

Adam pushed back from the table. “Man, that coffee tastes good. We had real weak stuff at White Rose. But I’m not used to this strong stuff. Runs right through me. May I use your bathroom before we leave?”

“Sure.” Maria pointed him toward it. “Why don’t you shower and change while you’re at it? I’m sure you want to get rid of that gown and pants.”

“Good idea. That okay with you, Levi?”

“Yes. Just please be quick.”

“Thanks.”

When she heard the bathroom door shut, and was sure he couldn’t hear them, Maria leaned close to Levi.

“You know he’s bat-shit crazy, don’t you?”

“Oh, he’s certainly disturbed. Unbalanced.”

Maria smirked. “That’s putting it mildly. He changes emotions like some women I know change clothes.”

“He’s mentally ill. But regardless, he’s telling the truth about what happened the night of the fire. About the satyr and the rest.”

“Doesn’t matter if he is—he’s still nuts.”

“Yes,” Levi sighed. “He is. The strain of what he’s been through was too much, I suppose. I’ve heard the expression ‘the mind snapped’ before, but I never really saw it in action until today.”

“So what are we still doing with him? We’ve got the book and the pages. Why keep him around? Why not just cut him loose before he freaks out on us again? The longer he’s with us, the better our chances of getting caught.”

“We can’t just let him go,” Levi explained. “He’s like a child in some ways. And those mood swings. He could hurt someone—or himself.”

“Then we make an anonymous tip. Drop him back off at the hospital.”

“And what happens when he tells them it was us who helped him escape?”

“What? That we burned a hole in time and space and broke him out? They’ll increase his medication and think nothing more about it.”

“Maria.” Levi sighed. “The truth is, we can’t let him go yet. We still need him.”

“For what?”

“I can’t say. The less you know, the better.”

“Why? Is it something bad?”

“God forbid you get engulfed by the entity. As soon as it leeches onto you, it not only drains your energy—it also siphons your thoughts. I can’t risk it learning of our plans before I have a chance to defeat it.”

“So what are our plans?”

“Like I said, I can’t tell you all of it. But the first thing we need to do is finish up here. Then we need to contact the own er of the Ghost Walk. This Ken Ripple. We need to ask him to consider not opening.”

Maria shook her head. “No way. He’ll never go for it.”

“We can’t let those people go into the woods. Isn’t there some way you can convince him?”

“I can try,” Maria reluctantly agreed, “but I don’t think it will do any good.”

She walked into her office, retrieved her cell phone, and scrolled through the recently called numbers. Finding Ken’s, she hit redial. On the first ring, it automatically put her into his voice mail.

“He’s not picking up,” she said. “Probably has a million things going on. They open in like four or five hours.”

“Four hours?”

“Well, yeah. When did you think it would open?”

“I assumed an attraction like this would open well after dark—eight or nine at the earliest. That gives us less time than I’d planned for. There must be another way to stop people from going into those woods.”

“We could call in a bomb threat,” Maria suggested. “Phone the police and tell them there’s a bomb somewhere on the trail.”

“Do the regional police usually react to such a situation?”

“No,” she admitted. “Takes them an hour to arrive on the scene when there’s shots fired. I can’t imagine they’d take a bomb threat seriously. If Al Qaeda ever wanted to wipe out a place with no re sistance or preparation, York County would be a prime target.”

Levi’s expression was grim. “This is my fault.”

“Maybe I could call the evangelical church. Convince the pastor and some of his parishioners to go down there and protest. Slow things down a little. Tell them the Ghost Walk is the devil’s work.”

“No,” Levi said. “Then we just put more people in harm’s way. Something like that will attract more attention, not less. We need to get going. Now.”

Maria wolfed down the rest of her breakfast while Levi told Adam to hurry up. By the time Adam was showered and dressed, the two were ready to go. Adam pulled his ball cap down low and readjusted his sunglasses.

“Think anybody will recognize me?” he asked.

“No,” Maria said, “although they might look twice, wondering who the crazy guy is wearing sunglasses at night.”

“Not me,” Adam laughed. “I’m not crazy.”

Maria bit her tongue as they walked out the door.

Levi said nothing.

They climbed into Maria’s car. Levi took the passenger seat again. Adam crawled into the back and flipped open Maria’s newspaper, which he’d appropriated from her porch step.

“I’ve been gone too long,” he mused, scanning the local section. “I need to catch up on what’s been happening.”

Maria glanced at Levi, but he stared straight ahead, still silent.

“Okay, guys,” she said, trying to sound brave. “Next stop, the Ghost Walk!”

The sun sank lower as they drove away.