The Whispering Dead (Gravekeeper #1) - Darcy Coates Page 0,43

“I’m game if you are.”

“All right. Let’s go.”

Chapter Sixteen

Once again, Zoe led the way, maintaining a blistering pace and occasionally stopping to wait for her companions to catch up. Keira and Mason followed at a slower speed. Keira couldn’t stop herself from glancing at the ivy-coated fence that ran parallel to the path, but she didn’t catch any other glimpses of the house. At one point, she heard the faint rustle of vegetation and turned just in time to see the vines fall still. It was hard not to imagine Dane on the other side of the fence, watching them in the same way they’d watched him.

The dirt path took a sharp turn to the right as they passed the edge of the Crispin property, and the trees thinned to reveal untended pastures and infrequent farmhouses. A huge, dark building dominated one of the fields.

“Is that—”

“Yep,” Zoe said, glee evident in her voice. “Old Crispin Mill. No one wants to spend the money to pull it down—especially as the land isn’t worth much—so they’re just letting it sit there until it falls apart on its own.”

That might take a while. The brick building was certainly old, and time had eroded some parts, but the structure had clearly been designed to last. Even if the roof collapsed, Keira imagined the walls could easily stand for another hundred years.

They left the dirt road to approach the building. The grass grew past Keira’s thighs, but dozens of footsteps, likely from equally curious visitors, had created a winding pathway through the tall weeds.

The structure was vast. Its windows were small and infrequent, and the roof blotted out a great swath of sky. In its day, it would have been large enough to hold several hundred workers.

As she neared the building, a prickly sensation touched Keira’s back. She shifted her shoulder blades to rub it away, but it didn’t leave. It was a soft force—almost undetectable—but made her uneasy. She’d felt it before, while standing in her graveyard as the mist rolled over the tombstones.

Death has tainted this ground, her subconscious whispered. Blood was spilled here.

She slowed. Peering through the web-crusted windows no longer seemed like a good idea.

“Keira?” Mason came to a halt a step ahead of her. “Are you okay?”

Her mouth was dry. “Yeah. It’s just…uh…”

She tilted her head back to see up the height of the building. Its roof towered high above her, and the bricks were stained by streaks of sooty discoloration marking where decades of water had flowed. The building was hostile. Bitter. Dangerous.

This was a cruel place to work. Trapped inside, with so few windows, the high roof making you feel like you could be crushed any second. And the deaths…so many of them…accidents…machinery malfunctions…suicides…

“Keira.” Mason’s hand came to rest on her back, bracing her. “You’re white as a sheet. Did something happen? Do you feel sick?”

She shook herself. A high-pitched ringing noise filled her head and made her dizzy. “Huh?”

“C’mon. Let’s get you away from here.” He tried to guide her back from the building, but she held her ground. Her head was clearing. The looming, prickling sense of unease had retreated into the background of her awareness. Mason stood close, his hand still on her back, his sharp green eyes skipping over her face. Zoe stood next to one of the windows, watching. Neither seemed affected by the building the way Keira had been.

She managed a laugh, but it felt dead in her ears. “Sorry, I kinda spaced out for a moment there. I’m fine.”

The worried creases around Mason’s eyes told her he didn’t believe it. “You don’t look well. Let’s go back to the road.”

Keira opened her mouth to object, but before she could, Zoe skipped forward and looped an arm through Keira’s. Unlike Mason’s worried frown, Zoe’s expression was cheerful and easy. “It’s an ugly building anyway. I doubt even you could say something complimentary about it. Let’s go back to town; I want an ice cream.”

With Zoe refusing to let go of her left arm and Mason’s gentle, guiding hand on her right shoulder, Keira let herself be led back toward the dirt road. It only took a dozen steps for the prickling sensation to slip away from her, and she began to feel that she could lower her guard again.

Zoe maintained an animated, one-sided conversation the entire walk back to the road. Before long, Keira realized the subjects—which ranged from JFK’s assassination to local sightings of an albino panther—were intended to distract her