symbols of protection into the soil.
The sky promised more rain. Thick clouds covered the moon. He’d need light for what was about to occur, so he’d once again summoned the lightning bugs—calling them in from far away. Had there been any pedestrians on the street, and they happened to look towards Gethsemane, they’d have thought it was snowing insects. Thousands of fireflies descended on the cemetery, blanketing the treetops with their mass. Now, dazzling balls of luminous green-yellow light hovered over the graves.
Finished with the last symbol, Bedrik stood. He brushed the dirt from his hands and looked at the designs, nodding with satisfaction. Only three people in town would be able to see them—him, and the two who were on their way. Bedrik raised his head, feeling the breeze. He felt them drawing nearer. Felt the boy’s anger and the old man’s apprehension.
He turned to his subordinates, the former Sam Oberman and Tony Amiratti Junior. They stood next to an old, moss-covered crypt, the white stone graying with age and pitted from exposure to the elements. The boy’s mother was tied to the stone with black silk ropes. The silk was a crucial element—a requirement, as was its color. She was naked, her mouth gagged, eyes blindfolded with another swath of silk.
“Mr. Rammel,” he said to Amiratti, “when they arrive, you will stand by the woman. You will not act unless I command you to, and then you will act swiftly. If I tell you to do it, you will pick up that onyx blade and cut her throat.”
“Got it,” Edward replied. “You want I should call some of Amiratti’s men and have them on standby, too?”
“No need,” Bedrik said. “However, have you noticed that your speech patterns are becoming more and more like Tony’s?”
Rammel shrugged. “I’ve been practicing.”
“Very good.”
“What about me, master?” Oberman stepped forward. “What will I be doing?”
“You, my friend, will play a very important role. Come here. I’ll whisper it to you.”
The possessed night watchman walked towards him. Bedrik pulled him close. As Oberman leaned in, Bedrik flattened his fingers and hand like a knife blade and thrust it into the man’s chest. Fingertips parted flesh like butter, cleaving bone and muscle and ripping through the soft organs inside. The shade inside Oberman—Thomas Church, the drunk driver—screamed as it oozed out of the shredded corpse. Bedrik sucked the spirit into himself, breathing it in through his mouth and nose like it was fog.
He wiped his bloodied hand on the wet grass and sighed with satisfaction. Then he looked at Rammel and grinned.
“I needed that. I’m tired. It’s been a very long day.”
“Couldn’t you have just had a cup of coffee?”
Bedrik laughed. “Indeed. The effect is quite similar.”
“Won’t you need Oberman to keep people away from the cemetery?”
Bedrik shook his head, gazing down the hill at the sleeping town. “No more. After tonight, I’ll be done with the cemetery. All those names I recited earlier? Those are the remaining inhabitants. Every soul that is buried here. I’ve summoned them all. They merely await Gustav’s arrival, as do we.”
Rammel pointed to the entrance. Car headlights bloomed in the distance.
“Doesn’t look like we’ll have to wait much longer.”
“Good,” Bedrik said. “Now remember, stay beside the woman. And most importantly, whatever you do, don’t break the circle. Your shade can traverse it, but if your physical form breaks it—even an inch, even just your toe— we will lose this game.”
“No sweat,” Rammel said. “I got it.”
“Do not forget who you’re speaking to, Edward. You may inhabit the body of that Mafioso, but I know your true name. I can send you back at any time. Show a little respect.”
“I’m sorry,” Rammel groveled. “Seriously, Master. I’m really sorry. Please forgive me.”
Bedrik smiled. How quickly the dead man returned to his own mannerisms, rather than those of his assumed identity.
They fell silent and waited.
789
Gustav stopped the police car and turned the engine off. His hands hovered over the steering wheel, and for a moment, Danny thought he saw them shaking. Then the old man sat up straight and pulled the keys out of the ignition. He smiled and gently patted Danny’s leg.
“Let us go.”
“Shouldn’t we wipe off our fingerprints or something?”
“Nyet. When we are finished here, we will take care of car.”
“But…”
Gustav looked at him expectantly. “But what?”
“But what if we don’t make it back.”
Gustav shrugged. “Then it doesn’t matter if they find our fingerprints, no?”
He opened the door and got out of the car. After a moment, Danny followed. The graveyard was silent. No owls or birds, not even a whippoorwill. Even the wind had ceased. Overhead, the sky threatened rain, yet no showers fell. No lightning flashed, and the moon was a dull, silver halo. Despite this, there was light—too much light. Gethsemane glowed with will-o-wisps. Hundreds of phosphorescent balls floated over the graves, turning night to day.
“What are they?” Danny whispered.
“Ghost lanterns,” Gustav said. “Bugs.”
“Gross.”
“Yes. But he needs them.”
“For what?”
“The shades of the dead, they are like shadows. They need light. He is making sure they have it.”
They started down the path. Gustav warned Danny to stay behind him at all times, and to not speak to Bedrik, even if the man spoke to him. “Say nothing. Only watch.”
“But how am I gonna help if I’m just watching?”
“You will help. You will see.”
“What about my Mom?”
“He will have her protected in circle. Cannot break the boundaries. Do not approach her, no matter what. Not until I say. You do, and she will die. You understand, yes? Like in the books?”
Danny nodded.
“Good.”
Gustav pulled the salt shaker from his pocket and sprinkled some on his hands. He had Danny do the same, and then advised him to save the rest.
They continued down the path, passing tombstones on each side of them. Gustav glanced over his shoulder once, but when Danny looked behind them, all he saw was darkness. Even the police car was gone now, swallowed up by the night.
He was familiar with Gethsemane. He’d goofed around here before with Ronnie, Chuck, Jeremy and Matt— sharing an Old Milwaukee they’d stolen from one of the older kids or smoking cigarettes and looking at the stars. But somehow, it all seemed different now. There was nothing reassuring or familiar. Shadows loomed everywhere, and when he looked straight ahead, Danny was sure he saw them moving out of the corner of his eye. When he’d look, they stopped.
“No,” Gustav muttered. “Your eyes do not deceive you. The dead have come out to welcome us.”
“Can they…” Danny swallowed. “Will they attack?”
“Nyet. Not yet. They will wait.”
“For what?”
Gustav pointed. “For him.”
Ahead of them was Mr. Bedrik, dressed as if for school in a dark suit and tie, and a long, executive-style overcoat. Another man stood near him, someone Danny didn’t recognize. But he recognized the woman lying next
