Into that Good Night by Levis Keltner

Author:Levis Keltner
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781628728484
Publisher: Arcade Publishing
Published: 2018-05-13T16:00:00+00:00

14

Smoke rose from the valley.

Doug coughed under the arched gateway of half-dead trees to Bachelor’s Grove and pictured his friends spit-roasted, crisp. Without a flashlight, he braved the steep path. He didn’t want to give away his approach. His fingertips strained for familiar landmarks in the dark—a remnant of fall leaves overhead, a V of trunks worn slick. The rough corridor of stone handholds guided him into the clearing. He’d been right about John, and it was time to act. He only hoped he wasn’t too late.

In the murk across the creek, a fire glowed under the Big Tree. Had the group gathered early and made a wild bonfire? The firelight was not trapped by the pit, Doug saw. Waist-high flames licked up the trunk of the Big Tree. He stopped and squinted against the light, unable to spot his friends anywhere. Smoke billowed heavenward and shadows quaked in the high branches. He searched the edges for the silhouette of a bent and emaciated figure, the Dead Man’s shape.

Doug flipped his backpack around and wore it front-wise like armor. He did so frantically, not thinking too much about it, needing to unzip the bag and slip his hand inside for the hammer’s rubber grip. There was something instinctual about the security brought by the drawn weapon. He couldn’t even dwell on how terrible he was at video game combat. His senses strained and amplified his leaping heartbeat, the margins of the darkness, and the sharpness of the wood smoke.

Doug stepped from the trail toward the burning tree. His elbow trembled though the evening was not chilly. He was going to kill someone, beat in their brains like in a zombie movie until the twitching stopped. Or an athletically superior killer was going to down him, separate him into two pieces, as Erika had been separated.

Life isn’t a videogame, he thought and was slowed to a pace that would take him an hour or more to reach the fire. His fear manifested as a swift current, and it took great effort to move upstream. Doug considered the finger of glacial ice that had pushed through the valley a bazillion years ago, clearing out all remains of plant and animal life or trapping the most insistent in a similar hell. His was the same battle, another life form against nothingness.

Take another step and you’ll be a plucked little ducky, fear said.

Doug lowered the hammer. He stopped and shielded his eyes to spare the world from the humiliating tears that rushed forth—

But not before he saw a figure step out from behind the Big Tree. Amorphous fabric billowed against the flames. A long blade glinted in one hand. The cloaked figure stalked through the trees toward the original crime scene. It could be John, though the confidence and power in its stride was unfamiliar.

Doug coughed. He’d drawn a breath of smoke and spittle, and couldn’t help it. He clamped his mouth with one hand and stepped back. A branch cracked under his heel. The black-sheeted ghost scanned the valley.

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