“No. I’ve already prepared it. As long as neither of you cross the barriers, we’ll be fine. Be mindful of that as you sprinkle the salt. Don’t let your hands or fingers cross the lines. Just the salt. You won’t have to go very far. Probably only a few feet. A few yards at the most.”
“How will we know when to stop?”
“You’ll know.”
“You want us to go into the woods?” Ken asked.
“Correct.”
“And that thing—that dark stuff—is in the woods?”
“Yes.”
“Fuck that.”
“Then Maria can do it alone. Three is a better number than four, anyway. In certain Chinese dialects, the word for four is very similar to the word for death. I have no time to reassure you, Mr. Ripple. This is our last chance and we are out of time.”
Ken flinched, staring at him. Then he turned to Maria.
“Do you trust this guy?”
She nodded. “If you’d seen what I have, you’d trust him, too.”
Ken turned back to Levi. “You’re not like any Amish per son I’ve ever met.”
“I’m not Amish.”
“But you were talking about God. Don’t you believe in Him?”
“I do. But I am not Amish and I am not a Christian.”
“Well, what are you then?”
“I am something worse. I am a soldier. Now go, please.”
Ken and Maria hurried back into the field and over to the exit. Adam studied Levi closely. The man’s expression was grim but determined as he opened his bag and began removing items from it.
“Earlier,” Adam said, “after we found the book, you said there was one more thing I had to do to help you. I’m guessing this is where that comes in?”
Levi nodded.
“Well, for what it’s worth, I just want to say thanks.”
“There is no need to thank me. I’m just doing what I’m called upon to do.”
The darkness began to gather again, lapping at the forest floor just feet from where they stood. It trembled and quivered, but did not progress farther.
Levi spread the items out on the ground, just at the edge of the forest, on the other side of the entrance. Then he turned to Adam.
“I need you to stand here, just inside the trail.”
“But the darkness—”
“Cannot reach this far. Not yet. Look at it. I’ve weakened it, at least temporarily. It needs to recuperate.”
Cautiously, Adam stepped back onto the trail again. He watched the forest carefully, tensed and ready to flee, but the darkness remained where it was. Behind him, Levi picked up another handful of salt and recited the same words over it. Then he took one step backward, just outside of the entrance. Kneeling, he poured the salt out of his hand in a straight line, just as he’d instructed Ken and Maria to do—joining it to the Ghost Walk’s outline. For a brief moment, the lime lines seemed to glow blue. Then the light faded.
“Seriously,” Adam said, still watching the darkness. “I mean it. I want to thank you. It’s been a really long time since I’ve trusted anybody—or since anybody has trusted me. But you changed that, and I’m grateful.”
As Adam talked, Levi sat two candles on either side of the entrance and lit them. Under his breath, so that Adam wouldn’t hear him, he prayed.
“Lord forgive me, for I do this in Your name. Please have mercy upon all our souls. Thy will be done, Lord.”
“Levi?”
“Thy will be done…”
“Hey, man? Are you listening? I’m unburdening my soul here, dude.”
“Forgive me, Father.”
“Levi, didn’t you hear me? I said thank you.”
Levi glanced up. “For what?”
Adam smiled. “For believing in me. For letting me help. I appreciate it. All this time, I’ve wished there was some way I could redeem myself. Some way to make up for everything that’s happened. And you’re giving me that. So I’m saying thanks.”
“Redemption?” Levi smirked. “There is no redemption for you, Adam Senft. You murdered your wife in cold blood. You slaughtered her—the woman who you swore before God and your family to love and honor and cherish and respect. You made a sacred, holy vow and then you discarded it. You pushed your wife out of the attic window.”
