Page 27 of The Haunting of the Mountain

“I can do that.”

“Thanks,” Kyla says, squeezing my hand.

It’s a small gesture but for a brief moment, everything feels okay.

“There,” Kyla says, pointing to the man in the coveralls, talking with a group of people congregating at the cider table.

“Wait,” Kyla says. “No. Nonono,” she mutters to herself as she grabs my hand and drags me away from the table and toward the exit.

By the time we’re outside, Kyla is a nervous wreck.

“What is it?”

“Holy shit,” she says, pacing around and muttering incoherently to herself as other patrons moved around us and into the library.

I grab her by the arm and guide her down a path that leads into one of the gardens at the side of the library.

“What is it?”

It takes a few moments for her to regain her breath. “That wasn’t the man I saw. The man who gave me this.” She shakes the book in front of me.

“Are you sure?”

“There’s no way I could forget him. The way he made me feel. Something was off about him.”

“Maybe Arthur isn’t the only one dressing up as the janitor.”

Kyla shakes her head, glancing at the ground and then back up at me. “Maybe,” she says, but I’m not convinced she believes that.

She lets out a deep sigh. “I don’t know. I need to see if my camera lasted long enough to get him on film.”

“Do you want to head back home?”

“Not yet,” she says almost instantly. “I think I should see his grave. Try to get an EVP. This is the weirdest thing that has happened to me since I’ve been here. Maybe ever. I need to gather as much evidence as I can.”

“Whatever you need,” I say. “Let me know how I can help.”

Kyla stares at me. There’s an intensity in her gaze that I’ve never seen before. She’s not uncertain or scared or wary or anything like the person I saw inside the library. She’s a force of nature.

“Are you ready to find a ghost?”

I smile. “As ready as anyone can be.”

Kyla wasn’twrong about EVPs. It’s a lot of talking to nothing. I don’t mind though. We could do this all day and I’d be happy because it means I get to spend time with her. It’s a damn privilege to see her in her element.

“Did you give me this book, Vernon?” Kyla asks, waiting a few seconds for a spectral response. “Were you in the basement of the library? Well, the church. Did you drain my camera’s battery?”

More silence.

I lean against a tree, watching Kyla as she wanders around in circles next to Vernon’s grave. Can’t say I’ve spent much time in graveyards, but this one is beautiful with the old-growth trees and well-maintained pathways. Fall is in full effect, and I swear there’s cinnamon in the air, carried by the gentle breeze.

I’d always thought nothing beats being on the mountain, but I have to say, being here with Kyla makes a pretty damn good case.

“I bet you’re having a blast,” Kyla says sarcastically. “Standing around in an old graveyard on a beautiful weekend, listening to a crazy person talk to ghosts.”

I snort. “If you’re crazy, I’m insane.”

Kyla shakes her head. “Thanks, again.”

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