Ghost Walk by Brian Keene Page A

clutched in his hands, touching his nose and groin. The rest of him, his astral self, soared above the parking lot, rocketing higher with each passing second.
    When he was eight years old, Levi had ignored his father’s warnings and climbed to the top of the family grain silo. He’d done it to show his brother, Matthew, and their friend, Elias, that he wasn’t afraid. But he had been. Levi had stopped halfway up the ladder, unable to proceed and too terrified to climb back down. He’d remained there, whimpering, clinging to the iron rungs, his eyes squeezed shut, until his father climbed up and rescued him.
    He looked down now and remembered that day. All of his old fears came rushing up to meet him.
    Levi screamed soundlessly.
    The ground got farther away.
    Get control …
    He focused, forcing himself to halt, rather than fly. His speedy ascent stopped. Gently, slowly, he glided downward until he was hovering just over Columbia’s roofs and treetops. He looked in all directions, seeking the girl and trying not to focus on the ground. He noticed signs of her passing—dogs barking, children crying in their beds, birds fallen from tree limbs—but not the girl herself. Willing himself forward, Levi followed the carnage left in her wake. Distracted, he floated higher again. If he didn’t focus on staying anchored when he flew, he’d continue to rise. To stay tethered to his body, he needed to concentrate.
    The cross of Christ be with me; the cross of Christ overcomes all water and every fire and all heights .
    He risked another glance below, and immediately regretted it. His butt puckered and his stomach fluttered.
    So far up …
    Levi was always amazed at the sensations during flight. He was nothing more than an astral projection. He didn’t have a stomach right now, but he felt it just the same. Felt the fear making it clench. He didn’t have eyes or a nose or ears. They remained behind with the rest of his body. And yet, the senses remained; sight, smell, and hearing still functioned in this psychic form, sharper than they were in his physical body. Levi didn’t know how or why. The only person who could have explained it to him satisfactorily was his father, and Amos had passed away long before Levi attempted his first flight. He was sure there were other folks who had theories. New-Agers. But nothing annoyed Levi more than New Age mystics, except for maybe Evangelicals. Both were hypocrites and cons—wolves dressed in sheep’s clothing. Part of the problem disguised as the solution. So Levi had never sought out help from the crystal-worshipping, herbal supplement crowd. Not that they would have welcomed him anyway. Even among the fringe, Levi was alone.
    Still on the girl’s trail, Levi picked up speed. He tried to ignore his fear of heights and focused instead on tracking his quarry. He swooped over more homes and apartments and quickly reached the waterfront. The area was dominated by a large, desolate-looking furniture factory. Like the rest of the town, the building had seen better days. Once the center of industry, it now appeared tired and run-down. Bucolic, just like the rest of Columbia’s citizens.
    Beyond the factory lay the Susquehanna River, broad and swift and glittering in the moonlight. Its waters ran cold and deep, a little over half a mile wide. Twin bridges crossed the span. On the far shore were the ruins of a Civil War–era ferry crossing.
    Levi’s attention was drawn to the center of the waterway. A patch of darkness spread out across the river’s surface, halfway between the Lancaster County shoreline and York County on the other side. In its center was the girl, like a rotten spot inside a cancerous tumor. The darkness was blacker than the night around it, engulfing everything in its path. It flowed from the girl like mist. The tendrils formed a cloud around her, extending from her body almost five feet in each direction. Her aura was brighter, now that he viewed it from his astral