“Can we go now?” Maria asked, shivering in the damp air. “Do we have everything we came for?”
“Oh, yes. This is exactly what we needed. We’ve got one more stop to make, but it will be quick.” Levi stuck his hand out to Adam. “Thank you, Mr. Senft.”
Maria groaned upon hearing of yet another stop.
Adam stared at Levi’s hand for a moment, his expression timid. Then he shook it.
“So this really will help you?”
“You’ve helped me a great deal,” Levi said. “I’ve got one more thing I’d like you to do for me, but we’ll talk about that later. For now, this is enough.”
“What is it?”
Levi walked out into the alley and headed for the car. “Something small. Just some closure. But not now. Like Maria, I’m exhausted. We all are. Let’s talk about it in the morning, after we’ve all had some sleep.”
“But it is morning,” Adam said. “It’s just not light out yet.”
Levi glanced up at the sky. The moon was shrouded in clouds again. The stars seemed dim and cold, and the darkness between them was vast and impenetrable. He turned back to them. His expression was grave, his eyes bloodshot.
“Then let’s just hope that when the dawn arrives in a few hours, it’s not for the last time.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Levi had Maria drive him back across the river to his home in Marietta. She’d protested. It didn’t make sense, driving all the way to Lancaster County at this time of night, especially when they were currently at the far southern end of York County. But Levi said there were items he needed for the confrontation. Reluctantly, she conceded. When they finally arrived, Levi grabbed his wicker basket and got out of the car. He asked her to wait while he went inside. She’d wondered aloud why they couldn’t just sleep at his place and then go to the Ghost Walk. He didn’t explain his reasons, but Levi was adamant that she and Adam couldn’t come inside. He offered to let her wait outside on the porch, but insisted that they not cross the threshold. Fuming, Maria told him to hurry up.
They waited in the car. Maria seethed, fighting to stay awake. Adam snored softly in the backseat, still dressed in his sweat-soaked hospital clothes, now covered with dirt and grass clippings. She was amazed. In the space of a few hours, he’d escaped from a mental hospital, seen a black magic spell almost backfire, tasted freedom, been confronted with his past, and had a near nervous breakdown in his former hometown. Despite this, he’d fallen asleep soon after they’d retrieved the book, and had slept undisturbed ever since. Like a baby—innocent and carefree.
Levi’s home was unremarkable—bland and perfunctory, and smaller than she’d imagined. In the backyard, visible from the car, were a small dog house and a two-car garage. The buggy was parked next to it. One half of the garage had been converted into a stable. She saw Dee peering out the door. Maria rubbed her eyes, struggling with fatigue. She rolled down the window, hoping the chilly, damp air would wake her up.
If I fall asleep now, she thought, I’m not waking up again. Still need to drive home.
Levi emerged from the house twenty minutes later, carrying a small canvas bag with the drawstrings pulled tight. Maria noticed that he’d changed clothes. Wet curls stuck out from beneath the brim of his hat. He opened the passenger door and sat the bag on the floor.
“I won’t be much longer. Just need to get one more thing, and then check on Dee and Crowley. Give me five minutes.”
“Okay,” Maria sighed.
He went around the side of the house and disappeared into the garage. Then he emerged again, fed the dog and the horse, and then returned to the garage. When he came back out, he was carrying a bag of something over his shoulder. It was heavy, judging by his posture.
“Can you open the trunk?” Levi asked as he neared the car.
Maria pulled the lever at her feet and heard the trunk latch click. Levi loaded the bag into the back. The car sagged on its shocks and then bounced back up. Levi closed the lid and then got into the car.
“There,” he said. “All finished. Now we can go back to your place and get some sleep.”
Maria didn’t reply. She just stared at him.
“What?” Levi asked her. “Are you okay to drive?”
“I’m fine. Just wondering if you were going to tell me what’s in the trunk?”
He shrugged. “Salt. You know, like what you put down on your driveway in the winter. It’s just a bag of salt.”
“We drove all the way out here for a bag of salt?”
“Yes…”
Shaking her head, Maria drove away.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Levi.”
“I do,” he said. “I only pray that it actually works. The Lord fed hundreds with one loaf of bread. I’m hoping He will do something similar with one bag of salt.”
“What? Like a dump truck load?”
He shrugged.
“If it’s that important, why don’t we get more?”
“Because we’re already running out of time. I would if we could, but you and Adam are both exhausted, and you need to sleep. You need your strength for what is to come. Otherwise, the entity can take you easier. And I need to prepare. There are many hours of study, memorization, and meditation ahead before we can confront it. And prayer. Believe me, I’d rather not stop at your home. I’d rather go straight to the hollow. But we have no choice. I only pray the delay doesn’t cost us.”
Rather than responding, Maria stared straight ahead, watching her headlights beat back the darkness.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Ken awoke at seven, mumbling and incoherent. The hazy vestiges of a dream departed—he tried to remember it, but failed. Something about Deena. She’d been at the Ghost Walk. The last remnants vanished as his alarm clock blared. Ken fumbled for it, knocking an empty bottle of Stella Artois beer off the nightstand. It hit the floor without breaking and rolled under the bed, coming to rest against more empty bottles and some dirty socks. Ken pressed the snooze button and fell back to sleep for another ten minutes. When the alarm went off a second time, he sat up and stretched.
Yawning, he slid out from under the sheets and put his feet on the floor, flexing his toes in the thick, red carpet. Deena had picked it out, just like the rest of the home’s furnishings. Some of Ken’s friends had suggested that he redecorate now that she was gone—one step toward moving on with his life. But Ken balked at the idea. Things like the carpet were all he had left of her. Everything else had long since waned—her hairs in the shower drain, her scent on the pillow, lipstick-stained cigarette butts in the ashtrays. These things were fleeting. He was left with her sanitary napkins, still sitting beneath the bathroom sink. Her shampoo and conditioner, sitting lonely and forlorn in the shower caddy. A half-empty bottle of water, still wedged in the back of the refrigerator. Even after all this time, he clung to them, refusing to throw any of it out.
To see her, he had to rely on photographs and memory—and dreams.
Dressed only in a dirty pair of yesterday’s boxer shorts, he padded into the bathroom and pissed. Then, still yawning, he brewed a pot of coffee and checked his cell phone. Terry and Tom hadn’t called him overnight—or if they had, then he’d slept through the ringing phone. His cell phone showed no missed calls and no new voice mail. Ken didn’t know if that was good news or bad news.
While the coffee brewed, he took a quick shower and got dressed. Breakfast was a banana and a bowl of cereal. Then, sipping a cup of coffee, he called Terry’s cell phone. After four rings, it switched over to voice mail.