turning my flesh bumpy with the chill.
“Five Moors has been the site of suspected ghost sightings since the death of twelve year old Amy Willis, killed on the moors. They never caught the guy who did it,” Lacey reads aloud. “Yuk, that’s awful. No wonder she’s so angry. That was five years ago. And in the last five years there have been three accidental deaths—the kid from the other day makes four—”
“ Damo makes five,” I add.
“Right,” Lacey says. “According to this, the first death occurred when a caravan toppled over on to twenty-five year old Matthew Waters, crushing him to death. Then, a year later, sixty-three year old Devendra Singh fell from the top of the camp office, plunging to his death on the car park—”
“L ike the little boy.”
“There was Steve Grayson—he died parking his car . Apparently the vehicle lost control and crashed into a tree.”
“What?” I say. “How do you lose control parking a car?”
“Exactly. They thought it was suicide, but he… oh, this is sad… it was an hour before his wedding, he went out to move his car to make room in the car park, the next thing you know? It’s wrapped around a tree.”
“That’s terrible.” The temperature drops as I think of the poor guy’s last moments. Did he think of his fiancée? Did he cry out? Did his ghost fight as he was sucked into Lacey’s hollow, drowning in energy?
“ So that’s the three. All men,” I say. “Do you think that’s significant?”
“Could be,” Lacey replies. “She was probably killed by a man.”
“ She’s getting revenge. But the little boy… He didn’t deserve it. He’s a little kid—an innocent.”
“So was she,” Lacey notes.
I turn my phone back to the sleep mode. I don’t want to look at the screen anymore, I don’t want to see those names, to imagine the lives of the people she’s taken. It’s then that I remember…
“The Thing,” I say.
“What thing?” Lucy asks.
“I saw one of them. You remember in Magdelena, I told you about those creatures that I see, the ones that deliver warnings?”
“Yeah?”
“One of them gave me a riddle:
“Cloaked in shadow,
Cloaked in light,
She takes the lives,
To gain her might.”
“Cloaked. That could mean hiding, yeah? Cloaked in shadow, cloaked in light. She hides in the daylight and the night-time? That doesn’t tell us much. All ghosts do that. They hide on their different planes and come out whenever they feel like it,” Lacey says. “I guess it could mean that she’s as dangerous in the day as she is at night. When the sun goes down I get a little surge of energy. It makes me feel more alive.” Her eyes soften. I would have thought she were about to cry, if she hadn’t been a ghost. “Maybe Amy is as strong in the daytime as she is at night. It would explain how she kills in broad daylight.”
I nod in agreement. “And the next bit: She takes the lives to gain her might . Killing people makes her more powerful.”
“If that were true, wouldn’t she keep killing all the time? There’s only been a handful of deaths over the last five years.”
“Unless something has changed.” I stare down at the lights in the campsite below. “We don’t know enough about ghosts. We don’t know how they change over time. You’ve been a ghost for a few months, but there are things she can do that you can’t. That means some ghosts are more powerful than others, and maybe they can become more powerful with practice.”
“I’m not an expert, but I reckon a car is harder to control than tipping a caravan. And a Ferris wheel is even harder, imagine all those levers and buttons. Plus she was strong enough to break the chains from your carriage, and disconnect part of the wheel.” Lacey’s eyes widen. “Her power is growing, and if she has just noticed that the deaths make her stronger, it might be now that she turns even more murderous.”
“That means more deaths.” My shoulders slump
“Five Moors has been the site of suspected ghost sightings since the death of twelve year old Amy Willis, killed on the moors. They never caught the guy who did it,” Lacey reads aloud. “Yuk, that’s awful. No wonder she’s so angry. That was five years ago. And in the last five years there have been three accidental deaths—the kid from the other day makes four—”
“ Damo makes five,” I add.
“Right,” Lacey says. “According to this, the first death occurred when a caravan toppled over on to twenty-five year old Matthew Waters, crushing him to death. Then, a year later, sixty-three year old Devendra Singh fell from the top of the camp office, plunging to his death on the car park—”
“L ike the little boy.”
“There was Steve Grayson—he died parking his car . Apparently the vehicle lost control and crashed into a tree.”
“What?” I say. “How do you lose control parking a car?”
“Exactly. They thought it was suicide, but he… oh, this is sad… it was an hour before his wedding, he went out to move his car to make room in the car park, the next thing you know? It’s wrapped around a tree.”
“That’s terrible.” The temperature drops as I think of the poor guy’s last moments. Did he think of his fiancée? Did he cry out? Did his ghost fight as he was sucked into Lacey’s hollow, drowning in energy?
“ So that’s the three. All men,” I say. “Do you think that’s significant?”
“Could be,” Lacey replies. “She was probably killed by a man.”
“ She’s getting revenge. But the little boy… He didn’t deserve it. He’s a little kid—an innocent.”
“So was she,” Lacey notes.
I turn my phone back to the sleep mode. I don’t want to look at the screen anymore, I don’t want to see those names, to imagine the lives of the people she’s taken. It’s then that I remember…
“The Thing,” I say.
“What thing?” Lucy asks.
“I saw one of them. You remember in Magdelena, I told you about those creatures that I see, the ones that deliver warnings?”
“Yeah?”
“One of them gave me a riddle:
“Cloaked in shadow,
Cloaked in light,
She takes the lives,
To gain her might.”
“Cloaked. That could mean hiding, yeah? Cloaked in shadow, cloaked in light. She hides in the daylight and the night-time? That doesn’t tell us much. All ghosts do that. They hide on their different planes and come out whenever they feel like it,” Lacey says. “I guess it could mean that she’s as dangerous in the day as she is at night. When the sun goes down I get a little surge of energy. It makes me feel more alive.” Her eyes soften. I would have thought she were about to cry, if she hadn’t been a ghost. “Maybe Amy is as strong in the daytime as she is at night. It would explain how she kills in broad daylight.”
I nod in agreement. “And the next bit: She takes the lives to gain her might . Killing people makes her more powerful.”
“If that were true, wouldn’t she keep killing all the time? There’s only been a handful of deaths over the last five years.”
“Unless something has changed.” I stare down at the lights in the campsite below. “We don’t know enough about ghosts. We don’t know how they change over time. You’ve been a ghost for a few months, but there are things she can do that you can’t. That means some ghosts are more powerful than others, and maybe they can become more powerful with practice.”
“I’m not an expert, but I reckon a car is harder to control than tipping a caravan. And a Ferris wheel is even harder, imagine all those levers and buttons. Plus she was strong enough to break the chains from your carriage, and disconnect part of the wheel.” Lacey’s eyes widen. “Her power is growing, and if she has just noticed that the deaths make her stronger, it might be now that she turns even more murderous.”
“That means more deaths.” My shoulders slump
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