“I haveneverheard that.”
“How many people have you talked to who live in the trailer park?”
She went oddly quiet.
“Well, there’s your answer,” I said. “It’s not that they don’t have stories. It’s that you don’t talk to the people who know them.”
TheDMWcrew would use the north entrance to the mine, which was close enough to see the junkyard’s floodlights. They would come down the same road George Masrell’s housewas on. The entrance was in a clearing, fenced off, with signs warning about fines for trespassing and the danger of cave-ins. Plenty of room for their SUV and van, even with all the ghosts stuffed in there.
Artemis and I would go through the south entrance. I pulled the Chevelle off to the side of the dirt road up the bluffs, in the shadow of the trees. Evergreens covered the entire hill up to the bluffs, nowhere near as dense as Black Creek Woods, but dense enough to hide the Chevelle.
“You’re not going to need any of that,” I said as Artemis hoisted her backpack over her shoulder. “Atleastleave the clothes behind.”
“I never go to a location unprepared.”
“Fine, but if we’re late, it’s your fault. I’m assuming they’re going to set up and do some shots outside before they go in, so we have maybe ten, fifteen minutes to get there. Follow me.”
“How far is it?”
“Ten or fifteen minutes. Pay attention.” My flashlight beam skimmed the underbrush. Tree roots bubbled from the ground. Plant skeletons loomed from the darkness, catching on my jacket and pants. Our breaths came out in clouds. “Watch your step. The ground is going to slope. Stay behind me, unless you start to fall, then fall to the side. I don’t want to die from a broken neck.”
“You are the most sensitive person I know,” Artemis said.
“Like a bed of nails,” I replied.
It’s helpful to know ghosts exist and how they present themselves when you’re walking through the woods at night. There are a thousand noises, all of them unexplained. Wings in the dark. The crunching of leaves. A cry that is probably an animal but sounds an awful lot like a person. Ghosts didn’t make noise. When they loomed out of the darkness, their edges wavered, like a TV with a bad connection. It was still creepy, but at least I expected it, so I kept myself quiet. Artemis could feel them but not see them, which meant she was weaving out of their way every few minutes, stepping on my heels and nearly toppling me over. Once she startled at an owl hooting and grabbed my shoulders. My toe lodged in a tree root as I stumbled forward.
“Fu—dge meringue, Artemis!”
“Oh, sorry—”
“I think I twisted my ankle.”
“Are you going to be okay?”
“Just stop jumping on me. If there’s something coming for us out here, I’m going to save my own butt before I save yours.”
I was limping by the time we reached the south entrance of the mine. I knew it by the neon yellow shoelaces I’d tied around a nearby tree branch. Ten paces straight past the branch, turn left after passing between two pine trees. The ground had leveled out and sloped upward again, and the topof a wooden frame came into view in the underbrush. It would have looked like part of a tree if I didn’t know where to look for it. I handed Artemis my flashlight and began clearing away the brush and branches I’d stacked in front of the entrance to hide it almost a year ago.
“Are you sure this is safe?” Artemis asked.
“I’ve been in here plenty of times and I never got hurt.”
“You’re sure there won’t be animals inside? And it’s not going to collapse on us?”
“It’s, like, a hundred and fifty years old. If it hasn’t collapsed yet, it’s not going to now. If you’re so worried about it, don’t touch anything while we’re inside.” I kicked the last of the leaves out of the way and motioned for my flashlight back. The mouth of the tunnel had been narrowed by a cave-in, but past that it became wide enough for three or four people to walk in side by side, standing up. An old mine cart track ran along the ground. The tunnel dipped slowly downward, and my flashlight beam couldn’t see past the curve in the floor.
Inside was warmer than outside. I shook myself and scanned the space while Artemis followed me in. Remnants of my last visit still littered the floor. Matchboxes. A burn mark on the rock where I’d lit papers, sticks, shreds of clothing, and plastic spoons. Anything I could get my hands on. My hand began to itch. Then the right side of my head. It still smelled like fire here, even after all this time. The scent made my skincrawl. My heart began beating too fast.
I remembered these things, but they didn’t feel like mine anymore. They belonged to the old Zora.
Artemis had zeroed in on the litter. “Did you use to—? You came here to set fires?”
“Good job, detective.” I brushed past her.
“I thought you didn’t like fire?”
“I don’t. I was testing something.”
