Joey, Michael, and Justin walked down the dirt path tangled with cobwebs. It had been 200 years since someone used the road. Thick fog swirled in the air. "Michael, are we there yet?" "Turn west and we’ll come up next to the graveyard." Soon the 3 guys came across a wooden fence. Justin shivered. Crosses and headstones embedded the soft dirt. Several of the graves looked fresh. Justin frowned. "Hey, those graves in the corner look…well…" "New? Sure. Whispers buries the Lost Souls’ victims here. Haven’t missing persons lists in police departments have grown larger?" "Yeah." "Bingo. Policemen won’t think to search a deserted cemetery." From beyond the graveyard they could see a church steeple and abandoned buildings. Michael pushed the creaky gate open. "We cut through the graves and we’ll be at the back of the church." Justin halted. "Wait a sec, wouldn’t it be more resourceful if we split up?" Joey shook his head. "I don’t think so. Remember what happened last time? Chris, JC, and Lance are in big trouble." "Oh come on. That was in a moment of pure insanity. This time we know where each other’s going and why. We meet by the church if we’ve discovered anything." Michael handed everybody flashlights and guns. "Where did you find guns?!" "One of them is registered to me and the other two were hidden in the Lost Soul’s robes. Apparently the Master wasn’t taking any chances when it came to Justin’s murder. Remember folks, if you have to, use them!" The plan was designed: Joey searches the stables and the rest of the houses on the right. Michael investigates the buildings on the left. Justin stakes out the church. *** Justin reached the double doors of the old stone church. The doors were chained. The windows were boarded. Justin yanked one of the boards away and beat against the rusty padlock, hoping to break it. Crash! The lock fell to the steps. Justin shoved the doors open, releasing a cloud of dust. Coughing, he stepped through the wide entranceway. The doors swung shut. The inside of the steeple was pitch black. Justin switched the ON button of the flashlight. A hazy yellow beam settled on the podium where the preacher spoke, shadowed by a huge cross. Justin slowly shuffled down the aisle surrounded by 6 rows of benches, observing the dust-and-cobweb-covered décor. Something scurried past his foot. Mice? The suffocating heat of the enclosed space made little droplets of sweat appear at Justin’s brow. The terrible darkness frightened him. All he could see was what the flashlight beam lit. Nothing else. When he reached the podium, Justin spotted a Bible. He opened the sacred book. A small object slipped out of the yellowed pages. A key. Justin twirled the key with his fingers. Where does this key lead? The flashlight beam scanned the walls. With the exception of huge painting of Jesus, the walls were bare. Justin crawled over benches until he could remove the painting from its position. A door! Excited by his discovery, Justin inserted the key into the keyhole. After a few minutes of fiddling, the door squeaked open. He saw two things. The rickety staircase leading to the bell steeple. He also saw a rickety staircase leading downward. Although apprehensive about climbing a 300-year-old staircase, Justin fixated the light on the stairs and took a step. The steps groaned. Wood cracked. Justin had recollections of the incident on the bridge. JC and Chris’s life and Lance’s soul depend on what lies beneath the church! The door slammed shut behind him. Justin screamed. The sudden movement caused the staircase to collapse. Dust and wood flew up in the air as Justin’s body fell to the ground below. Debris showered on him. Luckily, the fall was only 6 feet and the floor was soft earth. Justin’s flashlight clattered to the ground. His gun landed nearby. The light faded, dimmed, and disappeared. CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO Joey took a deep breath. After rummaging through several small houses and the abandoned stables, the search turned up nothing. Unless of course you count mice, spiders, filth, and possible museum exhibits. He stood in the kitchen of one of three houses with two stories. Joey’s stomach growled. He ignored the hunger. Think about the guys. It’s been hours since they’ve eaten. After exploring the kitchen and the room downstairs, Joey climbed up the ladder to the loft, or the bedroom. On one end of the rectangular area was a small cot, covered by a moth eaten patchwork quilt and a doll. Joey picked up the doll, a cute companion made of stuffed straw and mended rags. At the foot of the bed was a small chest. Joey gingerly removed the contents. A Bible, a couple of toys, and six dresses. A little girl slept in this corner of the attic. Joey next examined the opposite end of the loft. There was a large cot, probably meant for two adults. The parents’ bed. Next to a candle on the night table was a Bible. Joey opened the cover. Puritans often recorded births and deaths on the first page. Kaden James Bass. Born May 4, 1679. Married Nalani Whittier. Born October 13, 1679. Died August 5, 1701. Daughter Tara Emmaline Bass. Born July 28, 1696. Died August 5, 1701. Kaden’s death wasn’t recorded. His wife and daughter’s deaths looked like they’d been scribbled hastily. Dried teardrops smeared the ink in some places. Well, Joey thought, Guess Kaden wrote down Nalani and Tara’s deaths, then left town in a hurry. Didn’t pack or grab any of his personal possessions. Just got out. Happiness overwhelmed him. He’d located Kaden’s house! Some of Lance’s family history was sitting amongst these walls. No time to become sentimental, Joey chided himself, Find some clue as to how Kaden defeated the evil entity. Joey raided the chest of drawers. The top drawer contained Kaden’s clothes and rifle. The second drawer was full of Nalani’s clothing and few pieces of jewelry. The third drawer uncovered a stash of candles. Before Joey closed the drawer, a spot of leather caught his eye. He shoved the candle sticks aside. A book. Joey sat on the floor and opened the book. It was Kaden’s journal. Joey thought about saving it for Lance. Surely he’d want to read the diary of his ancestor. Maybe. He flipped to the final page. The scrawl was barely legible, but Joey deciphered it: I can’t write much, but the evil I’d suspected of that mysterious stranger is true! He is a demon, spawned by the devil. He’s signed the book, and now he forced my precious wife to sign it too. God save her soul! My sweet Tara is dead. Nothing’s left for me. I’ve driven the demon away, and he put a price on my head. I must leave so I’ll never be found. If anyone finds this, then let it be known: Go to the church. Remove the painting of Christ. There is a secret room where our society meets. They key to stopping that monster is in there. I must go! Heaven help us all. Joey shut the book and hopped to his feet. He needed to find Michael and tell him the good news. Suddenly, the door slammed below him. Scratching noises scraped across the floor. Raspy breathing feeding off bloodthirsty hunger. "Need…blood…need…life…master’s…orders…Joey…where…are…you…" Joey’s eyes bulged while his knees knocked. Fear tingled his spine. "Oh my gosh." The ladder jerked. Two furry paws appeared, followed by a hideous face… Joey knew his only escape was the single window by Kaden and Nalani’s bed. The Lost Soul howled to expose its fangs and claws. Joey ducked his head, curled his upper body, and charged. Crash! Glass exploded. Joey’s body hurled through the window. Joey watched the ground zoom in closer and closer till his body smacked into it. A dull, aching pain rippled through his left arm and shoulder. Joey moaned miserably. He lay in a pool of shattered glass on the street, staring up at the sky.