I put the scrapbook down. An appalling cold filled the attic and the rain poured down on the roof with renewed vigor.
“Rick,” I said. “Rick! Snap out of it!”
Rick sat transfixed by the stone on the table. Finally, he picked up the stone and said, “I’m taking it.”
“The hell you are! Put that thing down and let’s get out of this place!”
“Sorry, Phil. I came in here and I’m going out with a souvenir.”
“Look! I just read…”
“A stupid ghost story. You are so gullible.” Rick slipped the stone into his backpack. “You stick to your scrapbook but this here stone is going up on my bar at home. Hell I’ll even bring it to the Halloween party we’re throwing and prove that story is a cheesy work of fiction.”
“Don’t do it, Rick. If you even have an inkling of doubt that what I read was a bunch of bullshit, leave that rock right where you left it.”
“That’s just it. I have no doubts. This is just a cool little relic and I might even Ebay it. Then you’ll kick yourself in the ass after I show you how much I get for it. It’s a beautiful piece of capitalism, my man.” He got up and headed down the steps.
I stood alone in the attic dumbfounded. The shadows in the corners of the attic gathered into a shapeless form and followed Rick down the steps. I followed.
When we got down to the main floor I was amazed to see the room bathed in sunlight. The storm had blown away. Rick shrugged. “Goofy weather up here.”
I looked for our shadow companion but it was nowhere to be seen.
“Let’s try the front door,” Rick said. He tried the handle and it opened with ease. The deal was done. The house won. Now it was just a run down old building. The horror was removed. It was now in Rick’s backpack.
What could I do? We drove off the hill, out of McGill and back to Ely.
“Let’s head over to the Nevada Hotel and grab a beer. You look like you need it,” said Rick.
We drank. We drank more. It felt good to drown those horrors in alcohol. It numbed the dread I could feel all around but which was undetectable to my brother.
*******
We’re back in Las Vegas. Life goes on. Work. Planning the party.
The stone sits and waits. The Shadow Walker plans its great debut.
I have a plan for it. I can feel its workings. But I wonder if it knows my workings? These papers I write serve as my testament. I’ve done some studies of my own, Shadow Walker. The Ordination of Heaven Banishment. Remember?
I have learned your nature, Shadow Walker. Eighty-two years ago, I sought to bring you into the world through the Opening of the Way ritual. What a fool I was! With time comes wisdom. You have concealed your true self to the brother of my Host and you have found your way back to the deserts of the South where you can gather the powers of darkness to you. In a way, it is a good thing that you have worked your way back here. This is where you will be destroyed.
My Host and his brother have planned a little party for you on October 29. I have seen to it that you will not survive your rebirth through the workings of my Host. Like a good parasite, my Host was not aware of the placements of objects and the construction of devices I willed him to complete for your “party”.
How did it come to this, Shadow Walker? Remember the Resurrection Binding I sought to perfect? I performed the spell on the bones of Obed Issom in the Midsummer of 1954 when I knew my life was at its end. The very bones below the altar in my aerie.
The bones sat in my sealed chamber waiting with you.
When the time came, I moved into my Host just as you moved into his brother’s knapsack.
You will fail, Shadow Walker. Then I will release my Host and I will rest. This I vow with YOUR blood.
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