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Next to Ashley, Jane frowns, straightening from her hunched-over position. “What do you mean the bones?”

Kimi swallows hard, pinching the gold medallion until her fingers go bright white. “Ama used to always say that it’s our duty to respect the mountain, that it’s a living, breathing being just like all of us,” she explains in a low, almost reverent voice. “But every once in a while, that cursed spirit—the spirit cursed to be the mountain’s bones—well, it catches the scent of someone nearby that it can’t ignore.

“So those bones crawl out from the earth and go knocking at that person’s door,” she continues, shivering. “And they don’t stop. Not until that person takes the spirit’s place holding up the mountain.”

Kimi takes a harsh breath then, as if the words are foul to taste. She drops the necklace back down her shirt with a shaky hand. “When Evan came to the door, I remembered Ama’s story: how with the taste of a person’s blood, the mountain’s bones can change into that particular person’s form. That’s how it tricks you into opening up.”

Ashley rubs a hand beneath both eyes, further smearing the mascara dried onto her cheeks. “So you’re saying that thing outside was just—it was just pretending to be Evan?”

“To get inside?” Jackson adds, placing a protective hand on the back of Winnie’s neck as she whimpers lightly.

“To get one of us,” Jim says, nodding from next to Kimi as she brings her knees in close while the others look down the aisle, out toward the pitiful table barricading the door and the faceless night spilling in through the blinds beyond.

Thomas sucks in a silent breath, unaware of how intensely he has been focused on Kimi’s words. He digs his fingers into the hard plaster of his cast, wishing he could tear the thing off. “Do you realize,” he begins, “how absolutely ridiculous that sounds?”

The line of Kimi’s mouth sharpens into a snarl. “I’m not making this up for the hell of it.”

“You’re certainly not making it up to make sense,” Thomas snaps back, beyond weary of the hellish lights, the stench of blood, the people. He knew he should have never agreed to this trip, knew it was going to be a disaster even without some creature trying to rip them to pieces.

But a cursed mountain spirit? Bones come to life?

“She ain’t lying, boy,” Jim says, ignoring the tight clench of Thomas’s jaw. “Everyone raised in these parts knows there’s something dark living here with us. Too many people have disappeared or just up and died. Even Billy—” Jim’s mouth trembles as he cuts a look toward the covered body near the entrance.

He bites his lip hard enough that a dot of blood blooms, then he swallows hard before continuing, “My cousin had himself a problem start up a little while ago. See, his little sister kept coming around knocking on his door late at night, wanting to get inside.”

Thomas sighs again, rubbing at his left temple. “So…?”

Jim’s eyes go glassy as he glares back. “So his sister had been dead for years,” he answers. “At first, Billy thought it was some kinda miracle from God—Grace had always been real good about saying her prayers and going to church. She was a good person, Grace.”

His shoulders slouch forward as he wraps his hands around the barrel of the shotgun. “But then Billy noticed that dull look in her eyes and the strange way she was talking. He said it was like all the softness had been pulled out of her. No, it wasn’t something God sent at all.” He swipes beneath his nose, shaking his head. “It was something else—something the mountain spat back out.”

A tear trails down Kimi’s cheek. “You never told me that,” she whispers.

Jim focuses on the floor, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “It’s not the sort of incident you want spreading around a community this small, someone seeing the dead. Telling stories about old legends is one thing, Kimi, but this is—well hell, y’all remember how you reacted to me before.”

Thomas stares back at the man, eyeing his dry, sallow cheeks and the sweat accumulating across his forehead. “And had Billy been drinking when he got these visits from his dead sister?” he asks.

Jim’s hands tighten around the gun. “Have some respect, boy,” he snaps. “How do you think you’d fare if she all of a sudden turned up dead in the woods, huh?” He juts his chin toward Jane then, like a slap on the wrist.

Thomas bites his tongue hard to keep from screaming out just how close he came to experiencing that very thing. He dares a look at Jane, his gaze snagging on the dark pink scar over her eyebrow. From the look on her face, he can see that she also wishes this conversation would burst into flames.

“How did Grace die?” Jane asks, avoiding his eyes.

Jim turns his face away, shrugging. “It’s a cold case. The best the police could guess was some sick creep found her out walking at night before killing her and hiding her body in the woods. But…”

“But what, Jim?” says Kimi. She has gone rigid in a way that makes Thomas roll his shoulders, willing his own limbs to relax.

“What if it was that thing right outside?” Jim says.

Kimi stiffens further. “You think the Mimic killed Grace?”

“The Mimic?” Jane says, looking close to being sick.

Kimi frowns, peeling her eyes off Jim as if just noticing they aren’t alone in their conversation. “Yeah, the Mimic. That’s what Ama always called it.”

“How very comforting,” replies Thomas, running a hand back over his face and through his hair. “Anyone else feel their IQ dropping?”

“If you’ve got a better explanation, please feel free to share anytime,” Kimi tells him, flashing that predator’s glare. “Or better yet, why don’t you just go right outside and get another close-up of that thing since you’re so sure the rest of us are wrong?”