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“No.”
Dang.
“Hey,” I say to get his attention. “Who are you?”
His head snaps up, his eyes go wide, and he bares his teeth at me. “Like you don’tfuckingknow, Minnie.”
He lurches forward, trying to bite at me, but his movements are slow… There’s a hole in his chest where his heart should be.
“Whatare you?” And why does he think I’m my sister?
He doesn’t answer, he just lurches toward me again, swiping at me with hands like claws.
Jonas steps into his way and pushes him back, sending him sprawling into the cornstalks.
“He died here, something’s keeping him from finding his own hell.” Julia takes my hand and tugs me away from him. “The only thing we have going for us is that the dead are slow.”
Still holding Jonas’s chain, I lead the way out of the maze, following the end of the familiar path, and hoping that the guy gets lost in the branching paths. Each time I look back, I feel like I see a shadow. And then, we’re out of the maze and I breathe a little easier.
“Your sister took a page fromthe book.” Julia says, quietly.
“Yeah, but that guy was dead-dead.”
Julia looks at me askance. “What was the boy’s name? The one she wanted to spell…”
“Chad?”
“That’s him!” Jonas says, snapping his fingers. “Chad the cheater. I knew it!”
I look from him, back into the maze.
Somethingverywrong is going on in the living world.
Standingat the edge of the maze, I look up at the hellish versions of my grandmothers’ house. The paint bleeds and more than a few of the windows are shattered. The fence around it is sharp as knives and several of the pickets are covered in blood.
But there are no lights on, no movement behind those windows—shattered or not—and I’m not ready to walk those halls yet.
The barn doors are off their hinges and the silo…
The silo is on fire.
The cement column of a building glows hot and flames flicker from the broken half-dome roof.
It creates a perfect backdrop to silhouette the man moving toward it.
“There,” I point toward the shadowy figure and shout, “Dylan!” even though I know it’s futile in this stagnant air.
“Is that Dylan?” Jonas asks, but he follows me as I start toward the silo.
He’s the right height—maybe… his head is bent at an odd angle—and his shirt is dark, his hair is the right length…
I shout for him again and even though I know he can’t hear me, he does hesitate, but he doesn’t turn around. He keeps shambling toward the silo.
Damnit.
I already know I’m going to be too late, but I run anyway. Jonas tries to keep up, and I don’t let go of the chain, even though he’s turned into human ballast.
The man I’m chasing reaches the narrow door in the sidewall and his hand starts to smoke as he takes hold of the handle.
