Blowing on his cold hands, Lester stopped and peered into the black.  The path he’d been following through the woods had vanished again, and he stood still, squinting at the leaf-covered ground, trying to pick it up once more.

  Off to his right, a faint glow danced into view in the distance.  Giving up his search, Lester plunged into the dense undergrowth toward it.  Bare branches slapped and pulled at his skin and clothes as he made his way, but he fought on.  It was almost as if the forest itself was trying to prevent him from reaching his goal.  

  At last, he broke through a thick wall of thorns and stumbled out onto an empty field.  A swirling wind blew the hair from his forehead, and the newly formed scratches on his face and arms stung under its icy touch. 

  After parting ways with Amanda and Mae, Lester had followed Thorndike Street nearly to the end but had seen no sign of Ben or Thomas.  Admittedly, if they had passed this way, any trace of them would have been lost in the rapidly falling snow.  A few flurries on Halloween weren’t unheard of, but a full-blown storm at the end of October was unprecedented.  

  Lester had been about to give up when a light had appeared through the trees by the school.  As he watched, it had disappeared, came back on, and disappeared again.  Deciding it would take too long to return the way he’d come, he instead followed an old unkept trail into the woods.  It turned out to be unkept for a reason, and he had quickly found himself lost when it came to an abrupt end.

  Now, finally having made it out the other side, Lester saw the light bobbing its way in the direction of the lower sports field.

  Sliding down a grassy slope, Lester stretched out his arms as though he was riding a surfboard and arrived at the edge of a wide marsh.  A thick wall of cattails lined its banks, and their tall stalks, topped with brown hotdog-shaped spikes, swayed above him as he made his way to a narrow opening.

  A floating walkway stretched out across the murky water, the exit at its other end obscured by several twists and turns through the dense reeds.  During the day, dozens of students darted back and forth across the wooden path with ease.  But in the dark of night, the passage through the marsh took on a distinctly more treacherous appearance.

  Lester stepped cautiously onto the slippery planks.  They wobbled and sloshed under his weight.  Looking down to keep his balance, he noticed a trail of footprints in the freshly fallen snow.  Inching along, he followed them.

  Despite his careful progress, Lester nearly toppled into the water several times, but luckily managed to stay dry.  After what seemed an eternity, he finally saw an opening ahead and, a moment later, emerged onto the school’s baseball diamond.  The square rubber bases marking the infield looked like oversized marshmallows under a blanket of white.  Lester was reminded of the cars in the blizzard photograph hanging on the wall of The Marine Society. 

  Movement near one of the dugouts caught Lester’s eye.

  A frightened-looking Thomas, aided by the light of his smartphone, was frantically walking along the high fence surrounding the field, pushing against it with his black gloves.

  “They lock the gate at night,” Lester said, approaching slowly.  “There’s no way through from this side.”

  At the sound of his voice, Thomas spun around.

  “You!”

  “It’s okay.”  Lester held both hands up to show he meant no harm and to shield his eyes from the light now pointed at him.  “I’m not trying to hurt you.”

  “Oh, yeah?” said Thomas.  “Then why are you following me?”

  “Because — someone else may be.”

  “Would that someone happen to be your father?” asked Thomas accusingly.

  “Yes,” Lester said and lowered his head.

  “I don’t know what’s going on,” Thomas said, “or what kind of freaks you all are, but I’m not sticking around to find out.  So just stay away from me!”

  He returned to scanning the gray metal fence for an exit.

  “You’re right to be scared,” Lester said, keeping his distance but following along behind.  “They are dangerous.  But I’m not like them.”

  “And I should just take your word on that?” asked Thomas.  “I don’t think so.”

  They had moved behind home plate, and Lester now had a view up to the school.  “Darn it, Amanda,” he mumbled to himself.  “Where are you?”

  Thomas paused.  “Did you say, Amanda?”

  “Yes,” said Lester, sensing an opening.  “She should be here any minute.  She was very worried when I told her you needed help.”

  “Really?” asked Thomas, and despite his obvious distress, a hint of a smile crossed his face.

  “How about this?” Lester said.  “You don’t have to come with me, but what if we wait here together until she shows up?  Then she’ll take you somewhere safe, just the two of you.”

  Thomas didn’t need long to think before nodding his head in agreement.

  “Excellent,” said Lester.  “One more thing.  You might want to douse the light.”

  “Why?” Thomas asked, suddenly suspicious.   

  “It’s how I was able to track you.”

  “Oh, right,” Thomas said, understanding.  He gave his smartphone screen a tap with a gloved finger.

  Everything around them went from color to black and white.  The nearly full moon shined down through the falling snow, and they stood silhouetted against the tall fence.

  “Wait,” said Thomas. “Without the light, how will Amanda be able to find us?”  

  Before Lester could reply, another voice answered.

  “The same way we did.”

  The two boys turned in unison to see a figure climbing out of the visitor’s dugout.

  “Bernard?” asked Lester.

  “That’s right, little brother.  Who’s the clever one now?”

  Lester’s first impulse was to grab Thomas and make a break for it.  But something in the confidence of Bernard’s smile told him they weren’t alone.  Sure enough, looking down the first baseline, he saw his father approaching from the opposite side.

   Standing behind home plate with the fence behind them, they were trapped.  Lester peered into the outfield and spotted the narrow opening of the floating walkway at the edge of the marsh.  He was gauging the distance, trying to determine if they could reach the boardwalk without being caught, when Thomas grabbed him from behind.

  “Do something!” Thomas said, pulling Lester in front of him like a human shield.  “You said you could protect me!”  

  “Don’t come any closer!” Lester yelled, thrusting a hand out in each direction.  He tried to sound braver than he felt.  It was two against two, but he didn’t think he could count on Thomas for much help.  “I won’t let you hurt him!”

  “Easy, son,” said Mr. North.  He’d been slowly moving toward home plate but stopped and motioned for Bernard to do the same.  “There’s no need for anyone to get hurt.”

  “I don’t want to do it,” Lester threatened.  “But I’ll fight both of you if I have to.”

  “Right, squirt,” Bernard taunted.  “You and what army?”

  “I didn’t need an army last time,” said Lester, wiggling the fingers of his left hand.

  Lester’s fear had morphed into anger at the sight of his brother’s sneering face.  He wouldn't run away from Bernard like he always did, not this time.

  “I bet you couldn’t do that again if you tried,” Bernard laughed.  “Look at you.  You’re shaking.”  Then turning to their father, Bernard said,  “Come on, Dad.  What are we waiting for?  We can take them.”  

  “ENOUGH!”

  The three boys froze.  While the command had come from Mr. North, the voice was not his own.  More growl than speech, it was guttural and low and shook the ground.  Lester thought of his last encounter with Mac, the dog.

  “I’m sorry,” Mr. North said, letting out a controlled breath and sounding like himself again.  “But this has gone too far.  Bernard, you will be silent.  And Lester, you will hear me out.  After what I have to say, if you still want to walk out of here with that boy, we won’t stop you.”

  Bernard looked as though he was going to protest, but a sharp look from his father seemed to change his mind.

  “Are we in agreement?” Mr. North asked.

  From behind Lester, Thomas whispered.  “We can’t trust them.”

  “How do we know you’ll keep your side of the bargain?” asked Lester.

  “Because — I’m your father.”

  Lester looked into his father’s eyes.  They were clear and unblinking, with the same determination he’d seen in them every day of his life.

  “Alright,” he said.  “I’m listening.”

  “Good,” said Mr. North, his posture softening as Lester lowered his arms.  “I understand you think you know what’s happening here, but you don’t.  Yes, our family are Keepers of The Dark.  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, but it wasn’t up to me.  There is a procedure that must be followed.  Still, I never felt right about having to lie to you.  As to the matter at hand, I know you believe you’re trying to help someone in need.  That’s admirable, courageous even — if misguided.  Despite what you might have heard from your brother, The Dark has a greater purpose.  One I’ve served faithfully, my entire life.”

  “No purpose could justify such monstrous means,” Lester said, unable to hide his disgust.

  “People die, Lester.  There’s nothing anyone can do about that.”

  “Want to bet?” Lester said, stepping more fully in front of Thomas.

  “And sometimes,” Mr. North continued, “when they die, especially if it was sudden, they can get — stuck.”

  “Wait.  What?” Lester asked, puzzled.  This was not where he thought the conversation was going.  “What do you mean stuck?”

  “In every practical sense, they’re dead, but something inside them won’t move on.  Their bodies continue to go about their lives, driving to work or wandering through the grocery store, but it’s not them anymore.  From that point on, they exist in a kind of limbo.  As Keepers of The Dark, it’s our duty to release them.”

  “Is that how you live with it?” Lester asked, even more confused.  “By telling yourself that you’re releasing them?”

  “He’s obviously lost it,” Thomas whispered from behind Lester.  “Don’t listen to him.  Let’s get out of here while we still have the chance.”

  Mr. North shot Thomas a withering glare.

  “Let me get this straight,” said Lester.  “You expect me to believe that Truck Boy was some sort of dazed undead?”

  “Who?” Mr. North asked.  “Do you mean the Lingering from earlier this evening?”

  “Lingering?” said Lester.

  “It’s what we call those who remain.  And I wouldn’t put it quite that way, but yes, he was.  You’re still not seeing all of the pieces, Lester.  Trust me.  If we didn’t help them, it would be much worse.  Do you remember the morning you witnessed the car crash?”

  Lester looked at his father in surprise.  “How do you know about that?”

  “Let’s just say that your mother has some interesting friends.”

  Was that why Amanda’s aunt had waved at Lester from behind the tree as if she’d known him?  Because she was friends with his mother?

  “The young man you call Truck Boy,” said Mr. North, “was the victim of an unfortunate accident at the Bishop Farm the night before.  But instead of passing on, he became a Lingering.  The next morning he got into his truck and headed to the feed store.  He’d probably been planning on it before he died, not that he would have remembered.  It’s like they’re on autopilot, mindlessly repeating things they did while alive.”

  “Jennie Poole,” said Lester.  “She created the fog that caused the accident.” 

  “By their very existence, the Lingering upset the natural order,” said Mr. North.  “Their continuing presence in our world causes disruptions, like equipment failures, power outages, or train derailments.  When a Lingering is responsible for weather anomalies, like lightning or an earthquake, they’re ironically labeled natural disasters.  Sometimes, a Lingering can even affect the behavior of a large group of people celebrating, say, a Pumpkin Festival.”

  “You’re telling me Truck Boy caused the riot?” said Lester.

  “Not entirely.  Most likely, there was already the potential for things to get out of hand.  The Lingering’s appearance merely gave it a nudge in that direction.  It’s not as if they know what they’re doing.  Their unnatural state creates ripples around them that have bad consequences.  That’s why Amanda’s Aunt was trying to slow Truck Boy down long enough to release him that morning.  Your arrival was a complication she hadn’t anticipated.  She had to make a choice.  You never thought it was odd how you managed to escape all that chaos without a scratch?”

  Lester replayed the images of the accident in his mind.  The cows.  The swerving truck narrowly missing him and shattering The Ditch’s mailbox instead.  Could what his father was saying actually be true?

  “Don’t tell me you’re buying this?” said Thomas.  

  “If it’s really that dangerous,” asked Lester, “why did you wait so long to release Truck Boy?”

  “We weren’t waiting,” Mr. North scoffed.  “Lingerings aren’t easy to catch.  It’s as if they can sense us.  Like opposite ends of magnets, the closer we get, the faster they move away.  Add to that having to be careful we aren’t seen doing our work, and the whole endeavor becomes like trying to catch lightning in a bottle.  Amanda’s Aunt chose to save you instead of stopping the Lingering, resulting in an accident.  Then Mr. Poole and I missed him at the festival, and there was a riot.  Each time we fail, there’s a cost.”

  “And when you do catch one, where is it you think you’re releasing them to?” Lester asked.

  “That is not for us to know,” Mr. North said as if repeating an answer he’d been given to the same question.

  Lester shook his head.  “All these years, you and mom shunned everything and everyone that you deemed out of the ordinary or weird.  Yet you were involved in this?”

  “That’s my fault,” said Mr. North.  “Don’t blame your mother.  I was afraid that if we didn’t fit in — if there were even the slightest hint of who we were, we’d be discovered.  I couldn’t risk losing you boys.  That’s why we let Mathis go to Crowley.  Do you think I don’t miss him every day?  It eats at me.  But I would agree never to see him again if it meant he was safe.”

  Lester’s father had always been unflappable.  He was the disciplinarian and rule-follower whose only emotion was annoyance.  He’d never shown a hint of vulnerability until now.  If even part of what he was saying was true, Lester imagined what it would be like to carry that kind of worry around.  He could almost feel the weight of it bearing down on him.  People liked to comment on how Lester took after his mother, with his slight build and dark hair.  Still, at that moment, Lester felt he understood his father in a way he never had before.

  “If all this is true,” Lester said, “why come after Thomas?”

  His father looked past him with a steely stare.  “He knows why.”

  “What?” erupted Thomas.  “I’ve never heard such utter nonsense!  You’ve all lost your bloody minds!  Are we going to stand here listening to these ridiculous ghost stories, or will you help me get out of here as you promised?”

  Lester wasn’t sure how much of his father’s tale he believed, for it was undoubtedly unbelievable.  But that didn’t matter.  This wasn’t just about him. 

  “Well, what about it?” Lester asked.  “You said if we listened, you’d let us go.  Does our deal still stand?”

  Mr. North’s shoulders sagged.  “Of course it does.” 

  Lester took a few tentative steps forward, careful to keep Thomas behind him.  When his father made no attempt to stop them, even moving aside to allow a clear path, Lester picked up his pace.

  The falling snow was rapidly erasing their footprints from earlier in the evening.  Lester followed them, leading Thomas across the pitcher’s mound toward the outfield.  The two boys made a beeline for the floating bridge.  Once there, they could disappear into the cattails, then make their way back to town.  Lester would find Amanda and Mae, and together they could decide what to do next. 

  As they stepped over the mound of the second base bag, Lester heard his father shout.  Then, a moment later, something large slammed into them from behind.

  The impact sent Lester sprawling face down into the snow.  Sputtering, his face numb with cold, he looked up in time to see Bernard and Thomas roll past, a mass of intertwined limbs.

  Bernard was heavier, but the new kid somehow managed to get to his feet with Lester’s brother clinging to his back.  Utilizing his height and long arms, Thomas bent forward and flipped Bernard over his head, slamming him to the ground.

  “Bernard, stop!” Mr. North yelled, running towards them.  “It’s too dangerous!  Let him go!” 

  Either Lester’s brother didn’t hear or chose to ignore the warning.  Crouching in a wrestler’s stance, he let out a howl and threw himself forward.  Thomas made a show of planting his feet as if preparing for the assault but at the last minute twisted sideways, easily avoiding the clumsy attack.  As Bernard stumbled by off-balance, Thomas reached out a hand.  Thick black tendrils curled from his fingers.  They formed together to make a dark spike that struck Bernard directly between the eyes.

  “No!” Lester yelled as he watched his brother’s body stiffen and fall to the ground.  Scrambling to his feet, he rushed to Bernard’s side, frantically rolling him over.  His eyes were open, but in place of the blue-green color he shared with their father, ebony smoke swirled as if trapped behind glass. 

  Mr. North sprinted to reach his fallen son, but before he could close the distance, Thomas yanked Lester up into a chokehold.

  “Uh-uh,” Thomas said, holding up the index finger of his free hand, a black tendril coiling around it like a snake.  “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

  “What have you done?” Mr. North asked, anguish on his face as he looked at Bernard.

  “The same thing I’m going to do to poor little Lester here if you don’t take two steps back.”

  Mr. North did as he was told.

  Lester pulled on the arm wrapped around his neck, but his feet slipped in the snow, making it impossible to gain any leverage.  The more he struggled, the more Thomas tightened his grip.  Eventually, Lester was forced to stop fighting to be able to breathe.

  “You’re — you’re one of them?” Lester asked between gasps.

  “He’s more than that,” Mr. North said.  “Isn’t that right, Thomas Rich, or do you prefer, Corey?” 

  “Very good,” said Thomas, with a sneer.  “It took you long enough.  Even that old fool postmaster hasn’t figured it out.  It’s not like I haven’t been dropping clues.”

  “What are you talking about?” croaked Lester.  “Figured what out?”

  “Did your father not tell you?” asked Thomas.  “I suppose leaving loved ones twisting in the wind is another of The Dark’s ridiculous rules.  Do you know about the Salem Witch Trials and the story of Giles and Martha Corey?”

  Lester nodded, deciding to save his breath for breathing.

  “Well, Mr. Corey had a stepson, Martha’s child from her first marriage to Henry Rich.  While they were in jail awaiting trial, the boy fell ill.  Thanks to that idiot corrupt sheriff, no one was left to care for him as he got steadily worse.  Eventually, the townsfolk were sure he’d die too.  But then, on the day his parents were executed, at the very moment his mother drew her last breath from the end of a rope, little Thomas made a miraculous recovery.  Everyone called it a miracle.  They couldn’t have been more wrong.”

  Lester craned his head around to stare.

  “Not bad for over three-hundred years old, right?” asked Thomas.

  “But, you can’t be,” said Lester, his mind spinning.  “You have a smartphone.”

  “Oh, Lester.  I thought you were supposed to be the intelligent one around here,” said Thomas waving his gloved hand.  “It’s called connective thread, designed to let people use touch-screens in cold weather without freezing their fingers off.  The advances in technology these days.  Quite amazing, don’t you think?”

  Lester couldn’t believe it.  How could he have been so stupid?  It was right in front of him the whole time.  He’d fallen for Thomas’s act, hook, line, and sinker.  And now Bernard was hurt.

  “Giles was a miserable old bastard,” Thomas continued.  “Fortunately, his stubbornness got him killed before he went to trial.  Instead of the town seizing his assets, they were given to his last surviving heir, me.  That money has grown into quite a fortune over the last three centuries.  Of course, I had to leave Salem.  Those hicks were gullible and dumb, but sooner or later, they were bound to notice I wasn’t aging.”

  “But if your parents were Keepers of The Dark,” said Lester, “that means you’re of The Dark too.  Isn’t attacking them like turning on your own family?”

  Lester looked down at the still unmoving body of his brother. 

  “Did The Dark help my mother?” scoffed Thomas.  “No.  Those cowards turned tail and ran to save themselves.  I spent years searching for them and nearly gave up.  Then your busybody brother started poking around at The Marine Society, asking odd questions and digging through the old records.  It was child’s play to track him first to The Crowley School and then back to a little-known town called Giles Hollow.  If there’s one thing I’ve learned in all my years, it’s that there’s no such thing as coincidence.  I had one of my shell companies buy The Darling Place and enroll me in school.  After that, all I had to do was wait.  Imagine my surprise when that doddering old bat Dolores called to say you and your brother had stopped by the Hawthorne Hotel for a visit.”

  Lester pictured the woman standing behind her desk in the opulent lobby, talking on her phone as she waved goodbye.  If he managed to somehow survive this night, he’d need to warn Mathis.

  “My boys don’t have anything to do with this,” Mr. North said.  “Why don’t you let them go.  They don’t even know about our world.”

  “Then you should have prepared them better!” Thomas snapped.  The black tendril wrapped around his finger drifted closer to Lester’s face.  “You’re all responsible!  The Dark.  The Light.  Every single one of you!”

  “Thomas, listen to me,” Mr. North pleaded.  “What you’re doing, it’s no different than what happened in Salem.  They were wrong.  Anger and fear drove them to do terrible things, and innocent people, like your mother, paid the price.”

  “True,” said Thomas.  “But that was The Light trying to destroy The Dark.  It only gets half the job done.  By stoking the fires of your stupid little war, I will get you to eliminate each other.  And once I’ve rid the world of the whole lot of you, it will thank me.”

  “Look around,” Mr. North said, waving up at the falling snow.  “Can’t you see what’s happening?  This is no normal storm.  You’re doing this.  Continue down this path, and it won’t matter what side anyone is on.  That includes you.”

  “You’re lying to save your own skin,” Thomas growled, but his eyes drifted to the deep blanket of white that now covered his feet.

  Seizing his chance, Lester grabbed the arm around his neck and lifted himself up.  He swung his legs out to the side, pulling Thomas off balance.  Then Lester sent a hard kick into Thomas’s knee, and the slick ground did the rest.

  Mr. North leaped onto Thomas as they landed, quickly pinning his hands behind his back.  Lester, now free, threw himself across his legs.

  “What on earth were you thinking, Lester?” his father said once they had Thomas under control.  “Didn’t you see me signal for you to get out of here?”

  “Oh, is that what that was?” asked Lester.  “I thought you were telling me to sweep his leg.  You know, like in that old Karate Kid movie you love so much.”

  Lester’s father stared at him in disbelief.  Then he did something Lester hadn’t seen him do in a long time.  He started to laugh.