Page 130 of Confessions of the Dead

Mason and Evelyn were standing just inside the door. The boy pointed at a hallway leading toward the back of the house. “That way, I think.”

“Where’s your brother and Riley?”

Evelyn pointed down the same hallway.

Buck didn’t wait for Ellie to ask. He stepped around what was left of an old grandfather clock on the floor and worked his way toward the back of the house, his heavy hiking boots leaving a trail on the frosty floor, his breath wisping through the air in white plumes.

They found both Riley and Robby standing at the door of a bedroom at the back of the old house.

The fallen tree they’d spotted outside had taken out a good chunk of the already failing structure, cut right through the ceiling and wall, and landed on what was left of an old bed. Several of the thick branches had punched right through the floor, and others filled the small space as if the tree had grown there; bastardized branches crawled around the air in a frantic search for daylight and nourishment. Not finding any, they’d withered and begun to die. It looked like it might have been that way for a hundred years, but Ellie knew that hadn’t been the case. The house might have been abandoned, but between kids, tourists, and the random local, someone would have seen this, right? Told her? She sent Matt up here every few weeks to take a look around; surely he would have noticed.

No.

This was new.

This was fresh.

This had happened today.

Ellie couldn’t prove it, but she was fairly certain that ugly old tree had fallen at the exact same moment that girl had appeared in the diner. It fell as those birds dropped from the sky. All of it together. All of it connected.

The branches were covered in crows, unmoving, and as Ellie stepped closer she realized they were slicked with frost and frozen in place. Yet she couldn’t help but believe their eyes still watched them, followed them as they entered the room.

“Don’t touch anything,” Ellie whispered. “Not a damn thing.”

“Maybe we should go back outside.”

But even as Buck said that, Ellie knew it wasn’t possible. They could all hear the birds out there, the air thick with them and more coming. They were thudding against the door and windows, the walls—some by flight, others pecking at the wood, all trying to get in. She glanced at the hole in the ceiling, the dark sky beyond. How long before the birds realized where they were and came down through there? Where would they go then?

Robby stepped closer to the tree, got within an inch of one of the frozen birds. “It’s breathing.”

“What’s that on the bed?” Evelyn asked, pointing at the mattress.

Mason chuffed. “The high schoolers bang on there. It’s probably—”

“It’s black mold,” Buck interrupted. “Don’t touch it. It’ll make you really sick.”

“I wasn’t planning on touching it either way. It’s freakin’ gross.”

“It’s on the ceiling, too,” Evelyn pointed out.

Ellie looked up, realized she was right. There was a large black stain on the plaster directly over the large black stain in the mattress. And there was—

That couldn’t be right.

Ellie stepped closer.

Buck had caught it, too, and positioned the flashlight at a slight angle to make it easier to see.

Black dust was rising from the bed, through the air, to the ceiling. Connecting both spots. Not dust, though, and while Ellie wanted to believe it was mold as Buck had said, she wasn’t so sure about that, either. This was something else.

“Help me move the mattress.”

Buck hesitated for a second, then handed his flashlight to Riley and set down his shotgun. He grabbed the far corner andnodded at one of the tree branches, the one that had gone through the mattress when the tree fell. “That one punched down into the floor. We’ll need to twist the mattress. Go clockwise on three.”

When the mattress didn’t move, Mason grabbed a corner, Evelyn and Robby, too, as Riley kept the light trained. They heaved together.

The tree let out a rough groan, like it didn’t want to let go, then relented.

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