Read Online Ghost Walk by Brian Keene - Free Book Online Page A

Club, of which Ken was a member, so they didn’t have to worry about anyone stumbling across them. They stayed all day and when sunset came, they’d watched it curled up together on the blanket.
    Now his sunsets were solitary affairs.
    Ken sighed. The loneliness made his stomach ache. Tired and sore, he trudged back toward the exit. It would be night soon, and he’d watch another sunset by himself. It occurred to him that the reporter was probably on her way. Ken decided to get ready for the interview to take his mind off of things.
    All around him, the shadows lengthened.
       
    Rhonda unlocked Sam’s car and slipped behind the wheel. Before starting the vehicle, she rummaged through the glove compartment and found a pair of sunglasses. She put them on, hiding her obsidian eyes. Then she turned the headlights on and drove away, navigating winding, treacherous back roads. She passed cornfields and pastures and farm houses. The homes were shuttered for the night. Lights glowed softly behind their curtains.
    Soon, there would be no lights at all. They’d be snuffed out, consumed by the living darkness.
    The back roads gave way to main roads. She did the speed limit and obeyed all traffic laws. She drove in silence, staring straight ahead. She did not turn on the radio or Sam’s iPod. When her cell phone rang, she ignored it. She had no family or friends now. She was part of something bigger and greater.
    Eventually, she reached Route 30. She drove east, crossing the Susquehanna River and into Lancaster County. She took the first exit off the highway and cruised through the bucolic riverside town of Columbia, passing antique shops, beauty salons, small cafes, and used bookstores. The streets were relatively empty.
    At the other side of town, she pulled into the parking lot of a Safeway grocery store and parked the car at the far end, away from the overhead lights. Most of the spaces were full—cars, trucks, and a few Amish buggies. Rhonda turned off the car and headlights, exited the vehicle, locked the doors, and walked away. She stared straight ahead. Her stride had purpose. She passed by a mother pushing both a shopping cart and a baby stroller. The baby began to cry. The mother hushed her child. Rhonda felt their fear. It was made stronger by the fact that neither human knew why they were afraid.
    The last hint of the sun disappeared below the horizon and darkness engulfed the town. Rhonda slipped into the shadows. Consumed with their own lives and agendas, nobody else in the parking lot even noticed her.
    Except for one person.
       
    Levi Stoltzfus was putting his grocery bags in the back of his buggy when he saw the girl. She was young and pretty, dressed immodestly and wearing dark sunglasses at night. But that wasn’t why he noticed her.
    Her aura was what attracted his attention. It was black.
    All human beings have auras. Levi had been able to see them since birth, and his father and grandfather had taught him how to read them. Their colors varied, encompassing the entire spectrum. A trained eye could tell if a person was healthy or sick, happy or sad, just by noting the color of their aura. Different colors meant different things. But auras were never black. At least, not human auras.
    Black meant something else.
    His horse, Dee, whinnied nervously as the girl passed near them. Pointedly turning his attention away from the young woman, Levi patted the animal’s neck and stroked its mane, whispering soothing words of assurance that only the horse could hear.
    “Easy now, Dee. I feel it, too. Calm down. This too shall pass.”
    Her footsteps echoed on the blacktop. His free hand drifted to his coat, patting the bulge over his left breast. A battered copy of The Long Lost Friend lay snuggled in his inner pocket. It had been his father’s, and his father’s before him. The front page of the book held the following inscription: Whoever carries this book with him is safe from all his enemies, visible or