Ghost Walk

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Maria parked at a twenty-four-hour convenience store about a block and a half away from the White Rose Mental Health Facility. This section of town was still relatively unscathed by crime and drugs, so she felt safe walking the distance. The sidewalks were clean and in good shape, free of cracks or holes. The streets were lined with sprawling elm trees and bright streetlights, and the old houses were neat and tidy, populated mostly by retirees or converted into professional offices for doctors and lawyers. Many of them were decorated for Halloween. Paper cutouts of witches and ghosts hung in the windows. Pumpkins sat on porches and stoops, carved in a wide array of designs—everything from smiley faces to demons to something that resembled Pac-Man. Some of the homes had dried cornstalks or varieties of squash and melons arranged in tasteful displays. One home even had strings of orange Christmas lights strung all over the exterior.

She looked for Levi’s buggy as she stepped onto the sidewalk, but didn’t see it. Was he here yet? Although she didn’t know much about his personal life, he struck her as the type of person who’d be punctual. Still, there was no sign of the buggy—or of Dee. Levi couldn’t have been stupid enough to park it at the psychiatric hospital, could he? That would surely attract unwelcome attention.

She still had no idea what he intended to do. “Open the door”? Did that mean they were breaking in? Did he know a back entrance, perhaps unguarded and unlocked? No, that was impossible. She was sure that whatever Levi’s plan was, it involved some form of magic. That’s why he’d been so secretive and vague. He was probably worried it would sound far-fetched to her, despite everything else that had happened today.

Maria shook her head in disbelief. What a day it had been. This morning, the world had looked very much the same as it always had; now, things were different. She still didn’t totally believe in powwow or magic or sorcery or whatever Levi wanted to call it, but neither could she remain skeptical any longer.

She yawned, wishing she’d brought along another cup of coffee. The earlier rejuvenating effects of the hot shower and caffeine were starting to wear off. Worse, she doubted there would be time for sleep anytime soon. If Levi actually got them a sit-down with Senft, she’d have to transcribe her rough notes while they were still fresh in her head. It would probably be another long night.

Maria approached the hospital from the rear, cutting behind a dentist’s office and then across a vacant field. She moved safely under the cover of darkness. There was a thick cloud cover sliding over the moon, and although the psychiatric hospital’s parking lot had sodium lights, their radiance didn’t reach beyond the lot itself. She crept through the underbrush, alert, pulse throbbing in her throat.

It was so murky that she didn’t even see Levi until he spoke.

“You made it.”

Maria yelped, barely biting back a scream.

Levi shushed her. He was hiding in a thicket of vines and small trees, concealed in shadow. The only thing she could see clearly was his hat, silhouetted against a brief ray of moonlight.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Maria gasped, crouching down beside him and trying to catch her breath. “You scared the hell out of me, Levi.”

“Language. I may not be Amish anymore, but that doesn’t mean I approve of or enjoy hearing you take the Lord’s name in vain.”

“Well, I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t have surprised me like that.”

“I apologize. But if I, as you said, scared the Hell out of you, then that’s a good thing. The purer we are, the better our chances of defeating this.”

Maria bristled. “Are you saying I’m not pure?”

He didn’t respond. Maria peered closer and realized that he was grinning.

“You’re just messing with me again, aren’t you, Levi?”

“Yes. Just playing off your words. Sorry about that. But in truth, purity does add strength to our fight. And by purity, I don’t mean being a goody two-shoes. I’m just talking about a healthy body, mind, and spirit. Righ teousness. A sense of self-assuredness and confidence. Making the universe revolve around you—understanding that you are the focal point of all that occurs.”

“That doesn’t sound like purity.”

“But it is, in a sense. Being pure in thoughts and deeds means never second-guessing or doubting them. Knowing that what you’re doing is right and having the determination to see it through. That’s the kind of purity I’m talking about.”

Maria nodded in fake understanding and decided to change the subject. “So where’s Dee?”

“I left her stabled at home. I thought the buggy might attract too much attention at this time of night.”

The clouds parted again, revealing the moon. Light spilled into the thicket. In front of the building, out on the street, a car drove by, bass-heavy music reverberating from the speakers.

“So how did you get here, then?” Maria asked.

Levi smiled. “By other means. Did you get any sleep?”

“No. How about you?”

“I meditated for a bit, but you can’t really call that sleep. Mostly, I just read. Studied. Prepared.”

“Like cramming for an exam?”

Levi shrugged. “I guess. I don’t know for sure. I never had to do that.”

“Amish have schools, too. You never had to stay up late studying for tests?”

“There was no time. We had chores to do. If we got a chance to sleep, then we took it.”

They fell silent for a moment, watching the building. Although a few lights burned, most of the windows were dark. There was no signs of activity or movement.

“Seriously,” Maria whispered. “How did you get here?”

“I told you—by other means of transportation.”

“Magic?”

“No. A taxi cab. I had the driver drop me off several blocks from here and then I walked. I forgot my deodorant, so you might not want to get too close. How about you?”

“I parked a few blocks away, too. But I remembered to put on my deodorant.”

“Now you’re messing with me.”

“Hey, turnabout is fair play. And besides, we’re a team. Remember?”

“That we are. Are you ready?”

Maria shrugged. “I guess.”

Levi took a deep breath, held it, and then exhaled.

“Before we go any farther,” he said, “I have to say something. Regardless of whether you believe or not, you must do as I say from this point on. If you question or falter, it could be very dangerous for us both. Okay?”

“We’re not going to kill a chicken or anything like that, are we?”

“Not for this ritual, no.”

“Okay, then we’re agreed.”

“Good. That’s a relief. We’re going to open a doorway tonight. Remember when I told you that there were ways to enter the Labyrinth and cross space and time, like Nelson LeHorn did?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, this is something different. We don’t want to travel to another world or dimension. We want to transport someone from one point to another right here. On our Earth. To do that, we’re going to create a shortcut—a temporary hole in the Labyrinth’s fabric. That’s not really what it is, but it’s the easiest way to explain it. In any case, we must be quick and sure and cautious. And very, very careful.”

“Why?”

“Because we don’t want anything else using the doorway. And because we don’t want it getting wider or becoming permanent. That would be very bad.”

Levi’s demeanor had changed. He seemed more solemn. Finished speaking, he reached behind a thorny bush and pulled out a wicker basket.

“Are we having a picnic?” Maria whispered.

Levi lifted a finger to his lips, silencing her. His eyes conveyed seriousness. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a compass. After consulting it, he nodded. Then he glanced upward.

“Good,” he said. “We’re facing north and there are no tree limbs hanging directly over our heads. We can begin.”

Maria watched as Levi opened the wicker basket and pulled out a container of salt. She recognized the brand; the same kind was in her kitchen cupboard. Levi poured the salt all around them in a circle, emptying the container. Then he sat down cross-legged in the center of the circle and indicated that she should do the same. Her joints popped as she followed.

“Whatever happens,” he told her, “do not go beyond this circle. This is important. Don’t reach beyond it. Don’t stretch beyond it, not even the tip of your toe. Don’t even spit beyond it. Nothing must break the circle. Do you understand?”

“Yes.”

Nodding, he reached into the wicker basket again and pulled out a red cloth. He spread the fabric out on the ground in front of them, smoothing the wrinkles with his palms. Then he pulled more items out of the basket: a small copper bowl, four red candles, a chrome cigarette lighter, a broken, collectible silver spoon with a sharp, jagged edge, and a small bottle of shampoo—the kind usually offered as an amenity at hotels. Maria started to make a joke, but then thought better of it. Levi lined up each of the items on the cloth, placing the candles at four different positions—north, south, east and west. He sat the copper bowl directly in front of him and then picked up the tiny shampoo bottle. When he unscrewed the lid, Maria smelled a pleasant, aromatic scent—some type of oil, rather than shampoo. She tried to place it, but couldn’t. It smelled a bit like sandalwood, but heavier, more musty. Levi poured the oil into the bowl, careful not to spill any. The bouquet grew stronger, filling the air around them. He screwed the cap back on the bottle and placed it inside the basket. He retrieved one final item from the basket: a piece of white paper with strange symbols and a series of letters drawn on it. Maria tried to read the words, but they were nonsensical—strings of vowels with no consonants, and vice versa. He laid the paper directly above the bowl of oil. Then he lit each candle and bowed his head. Maria did the same. When he spoke again, in a strong, authoritative tone, she wasn’t sure he was talking to her.

“I have fasted according to the Nomos, which is the Law, and have eaten none which is unclean and have drank only water. I have avoided spilling my seed and have abstained from worshipping at the temples of Ishtar or Lilith. Thus, I have kept my essence and remained pure for thee.”

Maria almost giggled when Levi mentioned spilling his seed, but managed to remain quiet.

“My lanterns are of the appropriate and required color. With them I have cast light upon the four Gates of the Earth, and have done so with only the guidance of the moon. I face the Northern Gate. There is no roof or lamp above my head, save for the sky. I have done these things in accordance with the Nomos, which is the Law. And thus, I command thy attention.”

Pausing, Levi picked up the broken silver spoon and placed the sharp edge against the ball of his thumb. Maria shuddered, biting her lip to keep from crying out as he pressed the silver into his flesh, slicing his thumb. He didn’t flinch or moan, gave no indication that he’d felt it. He held the wound over the copper bowl and squeezed three drops of his blood into the oil. As each drop fell, he repeated the same phrase:

“Ia unay vobism Huitzilopochtli. Ia dom tergo Hathor.”

Maria tried to decipher the words. Some of them sounded Aztec or Mayan in origin. Others sounded Egyptian. And the rest seemed like total gibberish. She remembered what Levi had told her about the Daemonolateria. She’d commented that it sounded like Latin, and he’d corrected her, saying it was from a language that didn’t exist on Earth.

Humming, Levi held his thumb against his pants leg until the bleeding had stopped, and then he continued.

“I sit in the appropriate and required manner, safe inside a circle of protection. You may not molest me. I come here to open a gate. I come with awe and respect. I come seeking passage. I call upon the Gatekeeper, who gave to us the Nomos, which is the Law. I call upon the Doorman, who is the Burning Bush and the Hand That Writes and the Watchman and the Sleepwalker. I call upon he who is called Huitzilopochtli and Ahtu. He who is called Nephrit-ansa and Sopdu. He who is called Hathor and Nyarlathotep. I call upon he who’s real name is Amun. And thus, by naming thee and offering my blood thrice, I command an opening.”

Levi reached into the basket again and pulled out a worn paperback. The spine was cracked and a sales sticker from the used paperback store was affixed to the creased corner. The book was When the Rain Comes by Adam Senft. He held the book over the north-facing candle. It smoldered, then caught fire. He then placed the flaming paperback on top of the copper bowl. Smoke curled out from around its edges. The bowl’s contents must have been flammable because the fire quickly flared. The scent of burning oil became almost overpowering. Levi’s voice grew louder.

“This is the avatar of the one I seek. By following the Law and naming thee, I command you grant him safe passage to this place. He may not be harmed or molested by those who dwell between the walls or within the halls, or the denizens of Heaven nor Hell, or the realms between them, or the Thirteen, or the things that live in the wastes beyond the levels. Nor may he end up wandering and lost in that realm beyond the Labyrinth, in which there are no exits save death. I command thee, and so shall it be.”

Levi breathed a heavy sigh and then sat up straight. His body stiffened, his shoulders tense and rigid. His eyes remained fixed on the burning book. Maria’s legs were beginning to cramp. She started to stir, but Levi held up his hand, silencing her. Keeping still, she watched the flickering fire expand as it consumed paper and oil and blood. A plume of smoke curled lazily from the ashes. At its base, the fire remained only as wide as the mouth of the bowl, but the flames reaching into the air grew taller and wider. First a foot, then two. Maria shrank away from it. She felt the heat, smelled the singed hair on her arms. It didn’t seem to affect Levi. Beads of sweat ran out from under the brim of his hat and into his eyes, yet he remained motionless, unblinking.

His attention was focused on the fire.

It blazed higher. Impossibly so. Despite the diminutive bowl and the spare amount of fuel therein, the fire towered far over their heads. The flames changed color—first yellow, then orange, then a deep red. The smoke dissipated, leaving only fire. Maria leaned forward slightly and peered into the bowl. The oil and paper were gone, yet still the fire burned, even without any combustible fuel. The flames turned green. Instead of crackling, the fire hissed. Still, Levi did not move. Maria reached out and grabbed his arm, but he brushed her away. Reluctantly, she turned back to the blaze.

There was movement in the center of the emerald flames. As Maria watched, a scene unfolded, as if the fire was a window looking out on somewhere else—the interior of a small room. She saw grayish-white, featureless walls, devoid of paintings or fixtures. The flames expanded, revealing more of the room. There were three more walls, a yellow-tiled floor, and a single, heavily barred window. The details were stark and clear. To her amazement, she could see through the window. Maria realized it was looking out on the hospital’s parking lot, directly at the spot where she’d been sitting earlier that morning.

The room was empty of furnishings. A naked lightbulb hung suspended from the ceiling. A lone iron-framed bed sat in the corner against one bleak wall. A man lay on the bed, sleeping. He was covered in a single sheet and gray blanket. As they watched, he sat up, rubbing and blinking his eyes. Then he looked directly at them. His expression was one of astonished disbelief.

He can see us, Maria thought. Just like we can see him.

She recognized the man right away. Two years had passed. He looked different than he had in the newspaper clippings and his dust jacket photo. His face was lined and haggard and his once-thick hair had been shaved down to stubble. He’d lost weight. His wrists were twigs and his cheekbones stood out at sharp angles beneath his skin. His goatee, once neatly trimmed and jet-black in the pictures on the inside back cover of his books, was now wiry and washed with white. Not gray, but pure white. But it was his eyes that had changed the most. In photographs, his eyes had always hinted of amusement, or perhaps mischief.

Now, Adam Senft’s eyes just seemed haunted.

Maria felt a sudden wave of sadness, but didn’t know why.

Adam ran his hand across the top of his head, gaping at them. His mouth moved, but he made no sound.

“Mr. Senft,” Levi said, “please don’t be alarmed. We’re here to help you.”

The author’s voice drifted out of the flames, faint and faraway. “Y-you…this is…but I’m awake. They said the medicine would stop this. I’m dreaming.”

“You are not dreaming, Adam. I assure you of that. But you must listen to me. We are here to help you. We can get you free. But you have to hurry. The gateway won’t stay open for long. Can you move?”

“Y-y-yes…”

“Then step through the door,” Levi urged. “Quickly!”

“You—you’re Amish.”

“Not really. It’s a long story.”

“Do you drive a horse and buggy?”

Levi paused. “Yes. But I don’t see what—”

“Why do you drive a buggy if you’re not Amish?”

“The price of gas has increased quite a bit since you went into this institution. We’re at war. But that’s not important right now.”

“Why not? It’s my dream, right? I get to make up the rules.”

“Please,” Levi pleaded. “We know what really happened to you. We know about Hylinus and Nelson LeHorn.”

Adam cringed, pressing himself against the wall.

“My father was Amos Stoltzfus,” Levi said into the flames. “Do you recognize that name?”

Senft’s stutter had returned. “H-he was one of LeHorn’s p-peers.”

“That is correct. And I am his son. I believe your story, Adam. So does my friend here.”

“Nobody believes me,” Adam sighed, lying back down on the bed. “They don’t understand.”

“We believe you,” Levi insisted. “But it’s not over in LeHorn’s Hollow, and unless you want what happened to you to happen to others, you’ll come with us. We need your help. I can’t do this without you. Now hurry!”

Maria heard the rising panic in Levi’s voice. Then she noticed that the flames were starting to shrink again.

Adam sat up again, staring at them. Then he shrugged.

“I’ve read a bit about lucid dreaming. I guess if I don’t like where this is going, then I can just change it. Wake myself up again. Right?”

“That’s fine,” Levi nearly shouted in exasperation. “Just hurry up. Come through the door.”

The flames continued to die down, now flickering at a level even with their heads.

Adam put on a pair of slippers and got out of bed. He approached the portal with caution, slowly reaching out his hand. He reached through it tentatively. When he wasn’t burned, he stepped inside…

…and walked out into the circle of protection, nearly knocking Maria and Levi over. Adam toppled, losing his balance. Still sitting cross-legged, Levi reached for him. Adam pulled away, heading for the edge of the circle. His foot hovered over the line of salt.

“No,” Levi shouted. “Don’t break the—”

Adam stepped out into the thicket. Immediately, the flames changed color again, burning black against the darkness. The scene inside the fire changed, no longer showing Senft’s room. Instead, it looked like the surface of another planet. Boulders and red sand covered the desolate landscape. The rocks looked like they were rotting, as if they were organic. Something beyond their view roared. The noise wasn’t audible. Maria heard it in her mind.

“What the hell is that?” she screamed. “Is that what we’re fighting? The thing with no name?”

“No!” Levi shouted. “That’s something else. Hold on!”

She stared, transfixed, terrified but unable to look away as the doorway widened. The roar ceased. She felt the air around them rush past her as it was sucked into the rift. Her hair fluttered and her thin gold necklace began to writhe around her neck, slowly defying the law of gravity. The candles wobbled, the flames flickering but not going out, despite the strong wind. The alien landscape grew clearer. A dark mountain range towered over the red desert. Some of the cliff faces looked carved. She studied them closer, and was suddenly dizzy. Like some otherworldly Mount Rushmore, one of the mountainsides had been turned into statues. But instead of four famous presidents, these figures represented something monstrous and obscene. Tearing her gaze away from the creatures, Maria saw a metallic flash on the horizon, just at the foot of the mountains.

“What’s that?” she screamed again, pointing at the silver object.

Gritting his teeth, Levi lashed out with his foot and knocked the copper bowl over.

He shouted, “Ut nemo in sense tentat, descendere nemo! At precedenti spectaur mantica tergo! Ia Amun traust nodrog! Amun, Amun, Amun!”

The flames vanished, along with everything else. Levi leaned back on his elbows, breathing heavily.

“What the hell was that metallic thing?” Maria asked again.

“That,” Levi gasped, “was your tax dollars at work—one of the robotic rovers that NASA abandoned on Mars. Judging from its position and the surrounding landscape, I’d guess it was the Mars Pathfinder.”

“Mars? But there were statues! There aren’t any statues on Mars.”

“Well, that’s what it was.” Levi nodded toward Adam. “And this is the man that almost got us killed.”

Adam shrugged. “Like I said—lucid dreaming.”

“Mr. Senft.” Levi slowly got to his feet and extinguished the candles. “What you just did—the damage you caused…Well, let’s just say I’ll be paying for that sooner or later. Hopefully later, at the end of my days.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Consider yourself lucky for that small blessing. Let me assure you that this is no dream. We’re playing with lives here. Yours, hers and mine. That was a Sumerian spell and—”

“I know,” Adam interrupted. “I know. The green fire and the portal—I recognize them from one of LeHorn’s books.”

“So you did have all of his books, then?” Levi asked.

“Not all of them. Just his copy of The Long Lost Friend. And his journal. And parts of another book—just pages, really. Everything else got burned up in the fire.”

He hung his head and shuffled toward them.

“I know this isn’t a dream,” he said, bursting into tears. “And I know I’m not crazy. What I am is fucking scared! I miss my wife and I just want some fucking peace, and I don’t want to go through this shit again. Can you help me? Please?”

“Yes,” Levi whispered. “We can help you. And more importantly, you can help us.”

“How?”

“All in good time.”

“Don’t play that Phantom Stranger bullshit on me, man.”

“First, let’s get you away from here. I’m sure they check on patients throughout the night?”

Adam nodded. “Yeah, they do. Fucking Schmidt—he’s one of the orderlies—peeks in through the door windows all night long. Shines his flashlight in and wakes us up. He thinks it’s funny.”

“Is he on duty now?”

“Yeah. He’s one of the overnighters. A real jackass. Messes with us all the time.”

“Well, let’s get you out of here before he notices you’re missing.” Levi studied Adam’s cotton drawstring pants and short-sleeved, pullover shirt. Both were a bland shade of green. They looked like pajamas, and the institution’s name was stenciled across the back in big, black letters. “And I suppose we’ll need to find you some clothes.”

“Are we taking my car?” Maria asked. It was the first time she’d spoken since the fire had gone out. She’d been unable to find her voice—afraid that if she opened her mouth, she might start screaming, or worse yet, crying. She’d never been more terrified in her life. This was real. No more doubts. No more questions. Levi had ripped a hole in the fucking air. A hole made of fire. And Adam Senft had stepped through it. It was magic, plain and simple. The proof was standing directly in front of her. She felt dizzy and nauseous and her arms and legs tingled as if asleep. She’d just been confronted by something she didn’t believe in, and her convictions had been found wanting. She was afraid to breathe, afraid to blink, worried that if she did, something else might happen.

“Yes,” Levi said, retrieving the rest of his items and putting them back in the basket. “Can we reach it without attracting attention, or do you think you should go get it while I hide Mr. Senft here?”

“Wait a second.” Adam held up his hands. “Look, don’t think I’m not grateful. You got me out of there, and I appreciate it. You’ve got no idea just how much. But I’m not going anywhere with you until I know exactly who you both are. You said you were Amos Stoltzfus’s son?”

Levi picked up the wicker basket. “That’s right. You may call me Levi.”

“And you do powwow, just like your old man and Nelson LeHorn did.”

Levi nodded. “Yes, among other disciplines.”

“No fucking kidding. I’m pretty sure what you just did wasn’t powwow.” Adam turned to Maria. “And who are you?”

“Maria Nasr.” She held out her hand. “I’m a freelance writer, currently putting together a book proposal on the hollow and the LeHorn murders.”

Adam frowned. “You said murders. Plural. But Nelson LeHorn only killed his wife.”

Maria paused. “Well, as I’m sure you know, there are other murders connected to the hollow.”

“So you’re writing about me, too? Me and Tara?”

“I…” Maria turned her eyes to the ground.

“You’re just another scavenger,” Adam accused. “Trying to make a buck from someone else’s pain and suffering.”

“No,” Maria insisted. “It’s not like that.”

“Please,” Levi said. “We can discuss all of this later, after we’ve gotten clear of the area. If they find us now, we’re all in trouble. We’ve got more important things to worry about.”

He turned to Adam.

“You said you wanted our help. We can give you that. Others can only imagine the pain you’re feeling. The things you’ve been through. But I don’t have to imagine them. I move in that world every day. Let me help you.”

“You said you needed my help, too.”

“I do,” Levi agreed. “Hylinus and the tree-spirits weren’t the only dangers in LeHorn’s Hollow. Something else is there now—an entity more powerful than either of those. It’s forcing its way into our world and if we don’t stop it by tomorrow night, then the horrors you faced will pale in comparison to what will happen to all life on this planet.”

“Jesus…” Adam rubbed his shaved head. “What can I do? I don’t have any special abilities. I don’t know any magic. Not anything useful, at least. All I did was fool around with those books we took from LeHorn’s house.”

“That’s how you can help,” Levi said. “The police never obtained LeHorn’s copy of The Long Lost Friend. It was still in your possession at the time of your arrest, but it was never logged into evidence, nor was it found by the family who moved into your old home since then.”

“A-another family lives there now?” Adam’s voice cracked.

“I’m sorry,” Levi apologized. “You hid the book, didn’t you?”

Adam nodded, his mouth working soundlessly.

“And these loose pages you mentioned—do you remember if some of them were inside the book?”

“Yeah,” Adam sighed. “About a half dozen of them, actually.”

Levi arched his eyebrows, surprised at this revelation, but he stayed quiet.

“They weren’t part of the book,” Adam continued, “but I kept them anyway. Didn’t understand a word of them, but they were sort of interesting to look at. There were some pretty gruesome drawings on them. That’s why I recognized that thing you did with the fire.”

“Thank you, Lord,” Levi whispered. “Your name be praised.”

“Excuse me?” Adam blinked.

“Do you remember where you hid the book?”

“Sure.”

“I need those pages, Mr. Senft.”

“Call me Adam. And that’s it? That’s all you need—the papers? That’s all I need to do to help?”

“Yes, Adam,” Levi said. “Just that, and one other thing.”

“What’s that?”

If Levi heard him, he gave no indication. Instead, he began leading them out of the underbrush and into the field. Maria heard him muttering to himself.

“A necessary evil…”

“Levi,” she called. “Wait up.”

They followed the magus into the field, stepping out into the night.