Shadow Walkers

  “Got it,” Emory said.

  “What?” I said, confused.

  He gestured to a weather-beaten wooden sign between the cemetery and the parking lot.

  Durston Memorial Park, it read in faint letters. The name of the cemetery. We could just make it out in the moonlight.

  “Now,” he said, “let’s get back to our bodies, so you can call the police.”

  But even as he said this, a pair of headlights cut their way into the graveyard gloom.

  “It’s too late!” I said to Emory. “Conrad and Evelyn are here!”

  “Maybe it’s not them,” Emory said, but the car was already turning into the cemetery parking lot. It was a white SUV just like the one we’d seen out at the cabin on Silver Lake.

  “Go!” I said to Emory. “You go call the police. I’ll stay here.”

  “Zach!”

  “Emory, don’t argue with me! I’m staying here, but someone needs to call the police. This is the only way.”

  “But what can you even do from the astral dimension?”

  “I don’t know. But I’ll think of something. Just go!”

  Emory stared at me an instant longer. Then I saw the glint in his eyes as he decided I was right, that one of us really did need to call the police. He glanced around the cemetery, trying to make sure that the shadow creature hadn’t suddenly reappeared. When he still didn’t sense its presence, he looked back me.

  “For the record,” he said, “I think I love you.”

  Before I could answer, he relaxed. His astral body was instantly whipped out of sight, back to his physical body. From there, he could call the police and report what he’d seen. But given how far out in the middle of nowhere we were, I had no idea how long it would take them to get here.

  Meanwhile, I was left alone with the graveyard’s collection of lost, lingering souls. The vehicle was parking, tires crunching on gravel, wan headlights barely slicing through the astral murk. Billy’s father was silently working his way through the graves toward the parking lot.

  I flew to the SUV ahead of Billy’s father. I may have been floating weightless in the astral dimension, but I’d never felt so heavy in my life. There didn’t seem to be anything I could do. From somewhere back in the graveyard, a green vortex gasped like a drowning man.

  In the parking lot, the car doors opened, squeaking like animals in the night. I noticed for the first time that the back windows of the SUV were tinted.

  Conrad climbed out one side, and Evelyn huffed her way out of the other.

  I’d been right. It really had been Billy’s father who was behind Gilbert’s kidnapping.

  “He’d better be here,” Evelyn muttered to Conrad.

  “Oh, I’m here,” Billy’s father said from shadows of the graveyard. Evelyn jerked in surprise. “Where’s the boy?”

  Conrad faced off with him. “First things first. Where’s the money?”

  “How is he?” Billy’s father said. “Is he scared?”

  “I told you on the phone,” Conrad said. “Everything’s fine. Now where’s the money?”

  “To hell with the money—let me have my son!” Billy’s father stepped closer to the side of the vehicle, tried to open the back door, but found that it was locked.

  “He’s fine,” Conrad repeated. “He’s sleeping.” Evelyn hung back, watching the interaction between the two men.

  Gilbert is sleeping? Maybe this was why I’d suddenly been unable to hear him. Maybe something about being asleep made his mind blend, undetectable, into the astral dimension.

  I flung myself up over the vehicle, then dipped down through the roof like a speed skater taking a hairpin turn. I stopped myself perfectly in mid-air.

  I stared into the dark shadows in the back of the SUV, desperate for any sign of my brother.

  The dome light shone on a bit of rumbled clothing. Gilbert. I could see the lump of his body rising and falling as he breathed.

  He’s okay! He was just sleeping. Relief swept through me like an avalanche.

  “Now,” Conrad was saying to Billy’s father, “about that money.”

  “You’ll get your damn money!” Billy’s father said. “I just want to see if he’s okay.”

  Billy’s father opened the front door, the side where Evelyn had been sitting.

  “No!” I said. “Wait!”

  But Billy’s father, unable to hear me from the astral dimension, ignored me and reached in to unlock the back door. Then he opened it.

  Seeing the blond boy in the backseat, Billy’s father sighed, reassured. Everything might still be okay, I realized, just as long as Gilbert didn’t wake up. After all, as long as he didn’t recognize Billy’s father, there was no way for the police to connect any of them to the kidnapping. So what if Gilbert had been out to their lake cabin? It had been late at night. He probably hadn’t seen any of the surrounding area—he’d been tied up in the back seat of an SUV. So once Billy’s father realized their mistake, he could still have Conrad and Evelyn drop Gilbert off somewhere where someone would find him. No one would be any wiser.

  But for that to happen, Billy’s father had to realize that Gilbert was not his son. For the time being, he’d mistaken him for Billy just like everyone else.

  “It’s not your son, you idiot!” I shouted at Billy’s father. “They kidnapped the wrong kid!”

  “I’ll get your money,” Billy’s father said to Conrad, still not hearing me. Billy’s father turned for the graveyard where he must’ve had the money hidden.

  I floated after him, shouting in his ear. “It’s not your son!”

  “I have to say,” Billy’s father said back at Conrad, “it’s not every stockbroker who performs such personal services.” Out among the gravestones again, Billy’s father reached behind one of the markers and lifted up a paper grocery bag folded over into a something like a satchel.

  Conrad rolled his eyes. “Well, Simon, you didn’t give me much choice, now, did you?”

  Billy’s father—Simon—laughed cruelly. “Should’ve thought of that before that creative accounting of yours.”

  This explained how such unlikely kidnappers as Conrad and Evelyn had tried to kidnap Billy in the first place; Simon must have caught them stealing from him. But even that hadn’t been enough to convince them. He’d still had to sweeten the deal with cash.

  “Just give us the money!” Evelyn said to Simon.

  “It’s not your damn son!” I shouted at Simon one more time, but got no more of a reaction than before.

  Conrad met him as he returned to the parking lot, taking the grocery bag from his hand.

  “Thanks,” Simon said. “For what it’s worth.”

  Evelyn lunged out from behind the SUV, snatching the bag from Conrad. Then she opened it up, trying to count it in the dark. “It’s worth a lot more than this,” she muttered.

  “Evelyn,” Conrad said, “shut up.”

  “I hope you’re not offended,” Simon said, “when I don’t recommend you to my friends.”

  “We’re even now,” Conrad said. “I won’t be offended if I never see you again.”

  Only now that the money had actually changed hands did Simon finally go to the backseat of the vehicle and start to lift Gilbert out. And only now did he realize that Conrad and Evelyn hadn’t quite delivered their share of the bargain.

  “What? This isn’t my son!”

  But everything could still be okay, I knew, just as long as Gilbert didn’t wake up.

  “Don’t wake up,” I said to my sleeping brother. “Don’t wake up!”

  “What are you—” Conrad began.

  “This isn’t my son!” Simon said. “You idiots! This is the neighbor kid!”

  They’d recognized their mistake, but Gilbert still hadn’t woken up. Ev
en now, if Conrad and Evelyn left with Gilbert before he recognized Billy’s father, everything could still be okay.

  “That’s impossible,” Evelyn was saying. “You gave us a description. You gave us a photo.”

  “I know my own damn son!” Simon said. “You morons! How could you get the wrong kid?”

  Simon turned and dumped Gilbert, still asleep, back into the backseat.

  “Stop!” Evelyn shrieked. “Don’t put him back there!”

  “What the hell am I supposed to do with him? That’s not my son. You need to take him back.”

  Yes! I thought. Take him back.

  Evelyn laughed out loud. “Are you out of your mind? We’re not taking anyone back.”

  But before she could react, Simon snatched the grocery bag back from her hand.

  “Give me that!” she screamed, even louder than before.

  “I’m not paying for this,” Simon said. “You didn’t do your end of the bargain. You got the wrong kid.”

  “Give her the money,” Conrad said, surprisingly calm. When I looked over at him, I saw that Conrad had pulled a gun, and was aiming it right at Simon.

  Simon could not have been more unimpressed. “Did you even hear what I said? You got the wrong damn kid.”

  “Well, that’s your problem now. Give her the money.” Conrad underlined his words with the barrel of the gun.

  Simon shook his head in disgust. “I can’t believe you got the wrong kid. You’re an even worse kidnapper than you are a stockbroker.”

  Suddenly from the back of the SUV, Gilbert moaned. Simon, Conrad, and Evelyn all fell silent, then turned and looked over at the vehicle.

  Floating weightless in the astral dimension, I moaned too. “No! Don’t wake up, Gilbert. Go back to sleep.”

  In the backseat of the SUV, Gilbert squirmed upright.

  “Don’t do this!” I shouted at my little brother. “Go back to sleep! You hear me? Go back to sleep.”

  But Gilbert didn’t hear. The door to the SUV was still open, and Simon was standing just outside. And even in the dim glow of the vehicle’s dome light, Gilbert spotted him right away, someone he knew.

  “Mr. Scanlon?” Gilbert said. “Is that you?” Despite the bindings on his feet and hands, he crawled out of the backseat and stumbled over to Simon, immediately trying to wrap himself around Simon’s legs. “Mr. Scanlon, help me! They took me away.”

  So that was it. Gilbert had recognized him.

  Simon looked up at Conrad and Evelyn in disgust. “You idiots.” Then he pulled a gun of his own out of his pants.

  “What are you doing?” Conrad said nervously.

  “What do you think I’m doing? He recognizes me. How the hell am I supposed to explain that?”

  And here we were, exactly where I’d feared we’d be all along: Billy’s father was going to kill Gilbert. From behind me in the cemetery, the gurgling vortex seemed almost to burp.

  I had to do something. But what could I possibly do from the astral dimension?

  Even Conrad was shocked by what Billy’s father had said. He lowered his own gun. “Simon, you’re not thinking about—”

  “What do you suggest I do? By all rights, I should have you do it, but you’d probably screw this up, too. So I’ll have to do it myself. So go on, get out of here, both of you.”

  Conrad and Evelyn glanced at each other.

  “Get in the car,” Conrad said to her.

  “What about the money?” Evelyn said.

  “Forget the damn money,” Conrad said. “Just get in the goddamn car!”

  Conrad practically leapt into the SUV and twisted the ignition. The engine squealed a little before finally starting. Evelyn hesitated, staring daggers at Simon. But then she turned, huffing for the vehicle. She slammed the backdoor closed.

  “Wait!” I shouted at them. “You can’t just leave! He’s going to kill him. He’s just a little boy. You can’t let him kill him.”

  Without another word, Evelyn climbed primly into the front seat. The second she was inside, Conrad threw it into reverse, and the SUV scraped its way backward on the gravel. Once clear, he gave it more gas, and it roared out of the graveyard parking lot.

  Gilbert had watched the whole interaction with a confused look on his face. But one thing about this whole experience seemed to make sense, and that was the fact that Mr. Scanlon was the father of his best friend, Billy. He seemed to cling to this fact much the way he was still holding onto the man’s leg.

  “Well,” Simon said to Gilbert. “Let’s get you untied.” He latched the safety on his gun, then tucked the whole thing into his belt. He bent down to undo Gilbert’s feet.

  “Mr. Scanlon?” Gilbert said. “Why do you have a gun?”

  “It’s all right, Gilbert,” Simon said calmly. “It’s just a toy.”

  He was really going to kill him.

  I had to do something.

  It had seemed like Evelyn had started to hear me shouting at her from the astral dimension, out at the cabin on Silver Lake. And I’d definitely felt whatever evil astral being had touched me that afternoon out at Trumble Point. It was possible to communicate between the astral realm and the material one. Somehow I was going to get through to Simon now. I had to.

  “Listen—” I started to say to Simon.

  Even as I did, I felt something I hadn’t before—a rough yank on the back of my head, like I was a dog and someone had jerked hard on my leash. If I’d been in the real world in physical form, a violent wrench like that would have broken my neck for sure.

  But I wasn’t in the real world—I was in the astral dimension. And I was suddenly being flung away from that graveyard by the back of my head. It felt like my brain was being jerked from my skull.

  In terms of pain, it seemed endless, a Big Bang of sensation that exploded outward from my head. But at the same time, I knew it had all happened in a flash, in an instant.

  I opened my eyes. The sharp pain was already subsiding, as quickly as it had started. But my head pounded, and my teeth ached. The light was different, much brighter than it had been an instant before—too bright. Something or someone loomed over me.

  I was too dazed to make sense of where I was. I knew I was in someplace different than that cemetery in the night. But while my body was here in this new place, it was like my mind, my thoughts, were still back in that other place.

  Finally, my thoughts started to catch up with my body.

  I was back in my bedroom, back on Hinder Island.

  “Zachary?” my grandmother was saying. She was the figure I’d sensed looming over me.

  I stared at her, still trying to make sense of what had just happened. Then it hit me like another yank out of the blue: my grandmother had woken me up. My mind and body had been reunited, and my astral projection had come to an end.

  I looked, blinking, at my grandmother. The light was so bright, so much stronger than it had been just seconds before. Gravity pressed me to the bed like Lilliputian cables.

  “What did you do?” I said to my grandmother. I couldn’t have hidden the outrage in my voice even if I wanted to. Simon had been about to shoot Gilbert in that cemetery—I needed to get back!

  “Do?” my grandmother said, taken aback. “I woke you up. You were having a nightmare.”

  “It wasn’t a dream! It was real!”

  My grandma stared at me like I was crazy. But if I told her the truth, she’d think I was crazy.

  I took a breath. “I’m sorry, Grandma. You just surprised me. But I have to go back to bed. Okay? Do you mind? I have to go back to bed right now.”

  That’s when I remembered I didn’t have any more incense. I couldn’t go back to the astral dimension even if I wanted to. Realizing this was like running into a brick wall at full speed.

&nbs
p; My grandma ignored me. “I wanted to tell you the good news.”

  The words cut like a horn through the fog of my brain. “Good news?” My grandma didn’t look like a mummy anymore. Now she had the energy of a ballet dancer. I’d never seen her stand so tall.

  “There’s been a tip,” she said. “The police got a report of someone matching Gilbert’s description near some old cemetery. They think it might be the kidnappers!”

  Emory got through to the police.

  “But apparently it’s out in the middle of nowhere,” my grandmother went on, “so it could be hours before we hear anything.”

  Hours? Gilbert didn’t have hours. He didn’t even have minutes!

  I needed to get back there. But I wasn’t sure that was even possible without the special incense.

  “I’m sorry, Grandma,” I said. “I feel terrible. Do you mind? I need to go back to bed.” I was trying to be convincing, but I wasn’t doing it very well, was definitely acting strange. We finally hear news about Gilbert, and I want to go back to bed?

  But the fact was things were strange. Gilbert had been kidnapped. Besides, my grandma was plenty distracted herself.

  So she said, “I’ll wake you if we hear anything else.” Then she was gone.

  I wanted to bolt the door to make sure she didn’t interrupt me again, but there was no lock—they’d never let me get one for fear of what I might do on the Internet. I just had to hope that my grandparents didn’t come back.

  I turned to the incense holder on my nightstand. The incense was gone, burned completely down to the nub.

  I picked up the ashes, grey and fine, and crumbled them under my nose. I couldn’t smell any trace of what I’d smelled before, that scent of decomposing forest.

  So I had to do it without the incense. Emory had done it.

  He’d also said it had taken him his whole life, plus years of intense meditation, to figure out how.

  But I’d been to the astral dimension before. I already knew what it felt to separate your spirit from your body. That had to count for something.

  So I lay back in bed and tried to remember how to do the astral projection thing. Celestia Moonglow had said something about deep breaths and imagining a point of light.