Page 9 of Kat Bethel

I swallowed harshly. The reminder of my own mortality. If the monsters didn’t get us, this was how we usually died. It was why no one had considered asking more questions. If I left this place and killed myself, would anyone ask any questions?

Probably not.

I wouldn’t. Especially after that stunt I pulled a few weeks ago.

I shook that thought out of my head. Willow and Esme would ask questions.

Vera didn’t put this wall here. Someone else did. Maybe the Rinah that started this mess. The real question was why.

Why was my family composed of women who shot themselves in the foot?

Whatever the reason for putting it here, it wasn’t disintegrating like everything else. So whatever that witch did, the elderwood was immune to it.

That was the first real clue I could work with.

I set up my tent where the kids left the bulk of their trash, assuming that was where they stayed, and then went to meander around the settlement, looking for anything else out of place. Puffs of breath chilled my neck as I did, setting me on edge.

The urge to say anything to fill the silence made me press my lips together. It’s all fun and games until it responds. My impulsive behavior had already gotten me in enough trouble.

When I doubled back from a dead end to return to the main road, I found a trail of blackened footsteps where the thing followed me step by step, confirming what I already knew.

It was latched onto me. I blew my bangs out of my face and didn’t dare turn around to face the source.

I went past the noble house, even though I couldn’t see any foundations beneath the overgrowth, not wanting to miss anything important. My knees slammed into something hard and sent pain all the way down to my toes.

“Fuck,” I yelled, shaking my legs. I pulled the thigh-high grass away and found a headstone. The slab was so old, the carving was almost washed away.

Here lies Abiel Dudley.

“Sorry, Abiel. Didn’t see you there, buddy.” I moved so that I was no longer standing on his grave and finished wiping the vines and matted weeds away. I pulled some rosemary out of the tool belt, as Esme liked to call it, that was wrapped around my hips and filled with everything a witch might need.

I sat the bundle of herbs on the top of the headstone.

“May you have peace.” I figured it was best to be as respectful as possible, considering it could be him breathing down my neck. I ran my fingers along the edge, and the constant air blowing across my neck stuttered as if I’d shaken or surprised them.

That or they were chuckling at a joke I didn’t understand.

The darkness was getting deeper and growing by the second. I assumed because the sun was setting. It was getting harder to see, even with my flashlight.

The breath grew stronger as they stepped even closer than before, and the ghost of a touch hovered over my arms, making my hair stand on end. Exactly how close were they to me?

Did I even want to know?

I froze, waiting for the moment they grabbed me. My fingers slowly went to one of the pockets of my belt, ready to take action as soon as they did.

A sensation of heat and warmth danced along my cheek, like they were only millimeters from touching me. I held my breath.

If he touches you, something is going to happen.The instinct was as sharp as my heart beating.

The cold energy lingered there as if it felt the same, only to back away a few steps after a long moment that stretched for eternity.

They were still too close for comfort, but at least they weren’t inside my bubble anymore.

Why did it back away? What did that mean for me?

My heart raced. I couldn’t think of anything good. Either the entity was intelligent enough to understand social behavior, or it was maliciously toying with me. Neither meant anything good.

I focused on pulling weeds a few feet away, confirming what I already suspected.