Arnie had never killed before - it wasn't as momentous as he'd expected.

The Gray Man simply touched the knife Arnie had thrust into its neck, coughed out some blood, then collapsed, its ashen skin barely distinguishable from the concrete of the culvert where it had been bringing its sacrifices - and where they had decided to make their final stand. Through the link it had forged with him just days ago to mark him as its next victim, Arnie felt its lifeforce dribble out, then stop altogether.

He was safe. He was no longer marked. He and his friends were free.

But after all the horrific supernatural things it had put them through over the past several months - appearing in their dreams, brainwashing Su's dad so that he hurt her mom, making it rain literal blood outside school - the moment felt too little. Too easy. They'd had to perform a ritual to turn the knife into a blade capable of piercing the creature's flesh, but actually using it had felt oddly normal. Like stabbing into a piece of steak. And the blood was just blood.

Arnie wasn't sure what he wanted. Some kind of mystical fireworks? One of the taunting speeches the creature was so fond of giving as a goodbye? Anything to make it feel well and truly? final.

Instead, he just stood there staring as its surprisingly human-looking body melted and merged into the leaf-strewn trickle of water that ran through the culvert, mixing in with the rest of the debris, then dissipating like any other bad dream when you woke up.

Except Arnie didn't feel awake.

He was startled out of his thoughts by Raleigh clapping him on the back. "You did it," she enthused. "That sooty-looking POS is toast!"

Arnie intended to nod, but was interrupted by Todd knocking the breath out of him with a huge bear hug, then pulling back awkwardly. "I wanted to do it so bad. For Connor, you know?" His voice broke on his brother's name. "But when I raised the knife, it looked at me with his face and I? thanks. For finishing it." Todd looked away, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I didn't eat breakfast."

The three of them turned to Su, who stood hugging herself at the far end of the tunnel, a silhouette against the early morning light just starting to stream in. Su would never not be beautiful, but the stress of the past few months had eaten away at her, too, and her voice was shellshocked, hollow.

"Does anyone want breakfast?" she continued. "I want breakfast."

"Bacon and eggs," Arnie nodded, finding the words. "I can cook. Mom won't wake up for another hour or two."

#

"Mr. Mankus?" A hand touched Arnie's shoulder and he leaped from his chair in terror, spinning with fists raised. Then he sighed and lowered them. Just Mr. Acosta, his social studies teacher, who had put his hands up defensively. A few classmates let out nervous laughter when someone sing-songed, "Freak-o!"

Arnie caught Su's concerned look from the corner, but decided to ignore it, turning back to the teacher. "Sorry," Arnie said, sitting back down. "You startled me."

Mr. Acosta cleared his throat and put his arms down. "I can see that. Are you with us on the lesson?"

Arnie lied without thinking. "Yeah, sorry."

His social studies teacher gave a nod devoid of any real belief. "See me after class." Then he continued down the row of desks, reciting something about the role of a citizen in a democratic society. Arnie would ask Su later. Currently he was a bit preoccupied. Because it was happening again.

All the trouble with the Gray Man started after he managed to slither inside a couple of people's heads and convince them to do horrible things. It had caused a lot of confusion at first. Ty Martin's dad was still in jail, because they hadn't yet thought of a plausible explanation to get him out. And Su's parents might not ever get back together.

Arnie couldn't get those thoughts out of his head, because for the last fifteen minutes, he'd been staring out the window at Mr. Perez and Mr. MacDougal, the groundskeepers. They were loading trash bags into the trailer attached to the riding mower. Trash bags that were oddly long and flat, and apparently quite heavy for lawn debris. Arnie really didn't want to think it, but - Bodies. The groundskeepers were loading bodies.

Arnie chewed on the inside of his cheek. He'd felt this coming. Or something coming. This had to be it, right?

Three weeks had passed since he'd saved his own life by taking the Gray Man's, but he still felt marked for death. Still woke up in cold sweats, unable to remember his dreams and both relieved and frustrated by that fact. Breath still hitching in his throat every time he approached an alleyway, a closed door, a corner. Because even though he knew the Gray Man was dead - had felt it die - what if there were others? Lurking. Waiting for him. Able to sense the remains of his deathlink, a scar permanently etched into his soul.

Or maybe it worked in the opposite direction. Maybe the reason he'd bitten his nails down to the quick and kept thinking he was hearing and seeing things was because the link had tuned him in to some kind of supernatural frequency. Could a different evil be sniffing around their town, drawn in by some taint the Gray Man left behind?

Arnie had to know for sure.

#

Mr. Acosta hadn't reprimanded Arnie after class. He'd asked questions about things at home. Suggested a trip to the school counselor or nurse, his glasses sliding down his nose as his head bobbed. Arnie knew he meant well, but he also knew talking to the counselor wouldn't solve the problem of the groundskeepers moving bodies. So he told the truth: he'd had a horrible night of sleep. Really bad nightmares. He'd be better in class tomorrow. Arnie wasn't sure if his teacher bought it, but as soon as he dismissed him, Arnie chased down his friends at lunch and told them what he'd seen.

He could tell they didn't believe - or didn't want to - but his friends didn't try to talk him down. Instead, they just nodded, then raced through lunch and slipped outside when no one was looking. Principal Airgood was always giving announcements about safety and security, but if Arnie had learned anything these past few months, Buckshot Middle had a long way to go.

It had taken Mr. Perez three tries to lock the door on the storage shed while they watched, hidden, but Raleigh popped it open in one attempt, then slid her hairpin back in. "Can't say mom never taught me anything."

She ducked inside, Arnie her shadow. Todd and Su followed, shutting the door behind them. The space immediately became pitch black, a musty, earthy scent mixed with undefinable chemicals enveloping them.

"No one had their phone out?" Su hissed.

"Getting it," Todd said, his fumbling sounding twice as loud in the dark. "There!" His flashlight blinked on, illuminating lots of deadly-looking lawn equipment and looming, tarp-covered shapes, then the light went crazy as his phone slipped from his hand and clattered to the ground. "Uh," he said.

"Great," Su sighed. "Now we have to find dead bodies and Todd's phone."

In a flash, both she and Arnie had their phone flashlights scanning the space.

"There," Su and Arnie said at the exact same time.

"Jinx!" Raleigh said.

Su groaned. "Jinxing, seriously? What are you, twelve?"

Light from her phone illuminated Todd's on the floor, while Arnie's landed on the not-body bags - They're definitely body bags. - still stacked in the trailer.

"Besides," said Todd, bending for his phone."jinxing doesn't work that way. It has to be one of the people who said it."

"That's not true," argued Raleigh.

Su let out an exasperated sigh.

Arnie was barely listening. He had already crossed the space to the trailer and was staring at the trash bags, the hairs on his arm standing straight up as he reached forward slowly, then paused, not quite able to touch them. The Gray Man's hiss echoed in his head - "You're mine." - and he felt the handle of the knife in his hand again, felt it slide into the creature's neck. His heart did a drum solo and he forgot to breathe for a few seconds. Or possibly a few minutes.

"Well, are they dead bodies or not?" Raleigh barreled past him and grabbed one of the bags, shaking it, the action startling a shuddering breath from Arnie.

He cleared his throat and smacked her hand away. "What are you doing? Don't just shake it! You're being, I don't know, disrespectful or something. These were people."

Todd pointed where Su's light was now shining. "I'm pretty sure they weren't." Her flashlight had illuminated a corner of one of the bags, which had broken open and was spilling dirt onto the wood floorboards.

Arnie shook his head. "Maybe they were buried and he dug them up. Or the dirt's to hide them."

CLICK. Arnie turned to find Raleigh holding her pocket knife. "Only one way to know for sure."

"I can't believe you brought a knife to school," Su tsked.

"I can't believe you got it past the metal detectors," Todd said.

Raleigh shrugged. "I have my ways." She hopped onto the trailer. Before Arnie could argue, she'd plunged the blade into one of the bags and sliced open a footlong hole.

He shined his light.

Dirt. Nothing but dirt.

Apparently unsatisfied, Raleigh thrust her hand in and dug around.

Arnie cringed, imagining fingertips brushing up against other fingertips. Cold, lifeless fingertips.

Raleigh froze and turned back to them. "There's something hard in here."

Arnie drew in a sharp breath. "Bones?"

She pulled something long and straight out. Su found it with her light, and she and Todd audibly sighed in relief: a tree branch.

Raleigh chuckled. "Good one, Arn. You caught the groundskeeper doing his job."

The others broke out into laughter, their worries apparently floating away like the specks of dust caught in Arnie's flashlight beam. But he couldn't join them, and his shoulders didn't feel any less tight. There had to be a reason he was feeling this way.

Something was coming.

#



"I ought to tell the Principal Airgood about this! What's wrong with you?"

Water droplets flew from the tip of Ms. Elodie's nose and hand as she shook both her head and fist at Arnie. He had doused her with more holy water than he intended, and it dripped down from her hair net onto her apron.

Arnie bit back a scream of exasperation. He'd been so sure this time. Something was happening somewhere. A new entity - he could feel it. But he'd clearly been wrong about Ms. Elodie. Otherwise her skin would have been melting off already.

Todd held up his hands, playing peacemaker. "I'm so, so sorry Ms. Elodie. We were just playing a game and I guess Arnie got confused or had bad aim or - I promisepromisepromise it won't happen again, and it's just water, so if you could please not tell anyone - "

"Just get out of here! I have five hundred hungry kids to feed, and you've already delayed me enough. Move!"

Todd practically bowed as he pulled Arnie back out through the staff doors of the lunch room, bumping into a pallet of two-percent milk on the way and coming dangerously close to knocking it over. He pulled Arnie down the hall and around the corner to an empty hallway, where Su and Raleigh were waiting.

Su gave Arnie her best what-the-hell-man shrug. "You're trying to get all of us in trouble. That's what all of this really is, right?"

Arnie crossed his arms. "Look, I was wrong about her - "

"Wrong about the last five," Raleigh muttered.

Arnie soldiered on. "But that doesn't mean I'm wrong overall. You know about my connection. I can feel - "

"Your connection was with the Gray Man." Todd spoke with a calm intensity. "He marked you. You sensed him. But you told us you could feel him die. You were sure.

Has that changed?"

Three sets of pleading eyes landed on Arnie. He shook his head. "He's definitely dead."

The others all released their breath at once, and Arnie could see the tension flow out. Not his, though. And he had to fight back his sudden anger at them. Why weren't they tense like him?

"He's dead, but something's coming. I feel it everywhere. I see and hear things. I'm constantly on alert." Arnie needed them to understand. Needed them with him.

"That's how my mom sounded when she came back from her second deployment." Todd's eyes were focused on the floor.

Arnie bristled. "You think I'm making it all up? Going crazy?"

Todd flinched, and Arnie realized what he'd said too late. He took a step forward, reaching out an arm to put it on his friend's shoulder.

"I didn't mean that your mom - "

But Raleigh was faster, stepping in front of Todd protectively. She stared Arnie down.

He clenched his fists. "Seriously?"

Su joined her, a wall of angry thirteen-year-old girl with crossed arms and slitted eyes.

"You don't have some kind of a-hole permission slip just because you put the knife in," Su said.

Raleigh was matter-of-fact. "Things can go back to normal. Let them go back to normal."

Arnie ignored the burning in his eyes and clenched his teeth. "Don't you see? Don't you remember? This is just like last time. Finding rational explanations is easy, but that's what let the Gray Man keep killing."

"Except no one is killing this time, Arnie." It was Todd, eyebrows drooping in concern. "You keep thinking something's happening. And we keep listening to you. But we've found nothing."

"Yet! We've found nothing yet!" Arnie held his hands out, pleading.

But Su and Todd turned and walked away. After a moment, Raleigh shook her head at Arnie and followed.

#

Let things go back to normal.

Arnie tried. He really did. But it was like his senses had been opened to the possibility of supernatural evil all around him. And there was only so long that he could ignore it when a flock of birds resting on a power line all stared at him at once. Or he swore he saw the Gray Man lurking in alleys and under leafless trees, breath billowing in the cold? only to have the creature vanish when Arnie turned.

After the Gray Man marked him, he had known - without a doubt - that he was going to die. But he'd fought back. He'd changed that. What he hadn't realized was that it had changed him, too. The things he was experiencing, they were warnings.

Something was coming. He just knew it.

So when a new boy named Eric showed up at school sporting a bald head worthy of Lex Luthor and the angriest eyes Arnie had ever seen, he decided to listen to his instincts and follow him.

Arnie didn't tell his friends. Once he proved he was right, they'd come back.

That first day, a few people tried to befriend the boy. But that ended quickly once word got around. He wasn't mean, just? weird.

Arnie hovered close enough to hear three attempts that all followed the same pattern. A boy or girl would approach while Eric was writing or drawing in his notebook. He was always scribbling in his notebook.

"Whatcha working on?"

Eric would close the notebook and respond without looking up. "It's private."

"Oh. Okay. You just moved here?"

"No."

"What school did you used to go to?"

"I haven't been in school for more than a year."

"Seriously? That sounds amazing! How'd you pull that off?"

"I'm not really interested in continuing this conversation. Do you mind?"

The approaching kid would frown and laugh awkwardly. "Oh. Um. Sorry, I guess?"

Then they would return to their friends, whispering about how strange he was, and Eric would go back to scribbling.

On the third attempt, Arnie managed to get a peek into the notebook. The writing was too hard to read, but the drawings were clear: death. In every way imaginable. Dead people. Dead animals. Some killed brutally. Others that appeared to have died peacefully. Grim reapers. Zombies. Ghosts. Demons. Weapons. Poisons. Horrifying medical instruments wielded by doctors in lab coats. It was an altar to the end in paper and pencil. An obsession. A promise.

#

After that, Arnie following the boy home was a foregone conclusion. For the first time since the leaves had abandoned the trees, he welcomed the icy sting of the season because the hood on his jacket gave him a bit of anonymity. It didn't make up for the sharp wind that managed to find every possible way into his jacket, but it was something.

Eric's first stop was at the library, where he spoke with the librarian and was pointed to the back. Arnie knew immediately where the boy was headed, because it was where he and the others had lived while searching for ways to stop the Gray Man: Death and the Occult. For a small town, their shelves on the subject were surprisingly robust.

Arnie inhaled the scent of shelved paper as he pretended to be very interested in the Sci-Fi/Fantasy/Horror section, watching the boy grab every book available about demons and witchcraft and satanism, as well as medical books covering death and disease.

The librarian raised an eyebrow at Eric's choices.

"School report," he said.

Arnie snorted. Not at their school. But it wasn't proof, just another red flag.

A third flag came at the edge of the forest.

Something caught Eric's eye as he was walking on the sidewalk next to the woods. It was right at the edge of the trees and he made a beeline for it, taking out his notebook and scribbling intently in it, then searching out a stick, prodding whatever he'd found, and scribbling again.

Arnie spied from behind some bushes as the wind sliced through his hair, his hands reddening from the bite in the air. What in the world could be so fascinating?

Then a maniacal laugh cut through the quiet behind Arnie and - FLASH - he was in the culvert with the Gray Man, the creature's eerie giggling mocking Arnie, locking him in place -

And then Arnie was back in the bushes, flat on the ground, his face crunching into dead leaves and grass. He turned to the street, where a group of high school kids guffawed and gave him the finger as they drove off, hanging out of the windows of their friend's SUV.

Jerks.

Then he remembered: Eric. Had he seen? Did Eric know he was there? Arnie peered through the bushes to find that the strange boy was gone. Giving up all pretense of sneakiness, Arnie hurried over to the spot where Eric had been standing. The remains of a rabbit that had been torn to shreds by something lay there.

And also there. And over there, too. Ugh. Of course Eric had been fascinated.

A branch snapped in the distance, followed by a low curse. Eric was still close! Arnie hurried in the direction of the sound, doing his best to avoid stepping on leaves or branches. Eric was up to something - he just knew it.

After five minutes, Arnie was afraid he'd missed Eric. When ten minutes had passed, he was sure of it? and pretty convinced that he was lost. It wasn't that big of a deal. Not like Buckshot, Ohio was particularly woodsy or dangerous. But the forest that butted up against the east end of town was still big enough that people went missing every once in a while, and a few years ago someone's body had been found after they fell and hit their head on a rock. A drifter, but something like that was all too easy to do, especially in the dark - and it had to be close to sunset.

Arnie forced himself to breathe slowly and evenly as he pulled out his phone. He didn't have to worry about that. His GPS wasn't completely sure where he was, but it knew how to get him back to the road. That was all that really mattered.

He had taken three steps before he heard the chanting. It was distant, but definitely Eric's voice. And whatever ancient language he was using, it was littered with harsh consonants. If Arnie hadn't known better, he might have thought the boy was clearing his throat in the most complicated way possible.

Arnie didn't hesitate. The sounds became clearer as he made his way toward them in the amber light of the remaining sun, the whole forest seemingly frozen in time.

"Ekrakekh balfkarmak zlinkeh."

Arnie approached a small hill so steep he had to pull himself up using the slick roots that criss-crossed it.

"Rezdensek malfrashdan kikilesh."

He reached the top and immediately flattened himself against the ground. Eric was right there. No more than twenty feet away in an area that sloped down into a little bowl. He was holding open one of the books he'd just checked out.

"Come forth and show me!" The switch to English was so abrupt that Arnie almost lifted his head. "I, too, know death. I, too, am one of you. I?aaaarrrrrgggghh!" This time, Arnie did look up, just in time to see the book soar over the far hill as Eric launched it, fuming. "This. Isn't. Working!"

But Arnie had seen enough. He slid back down the hill as silently as he could and ran back through the forest as soon as he was confident Eric wouldn't hear. Arnie didn't know who Eric was 'one of,' but it cemented his suspicion: some supernatural entity was controlling him. And he was trying to reconnect with others like him. Arnie could not let that happen.

#

Arnie was on edge the entire next day at school. Every time someone slammed a book or a locker, his hand went to the iron bar, silver pendant, and vial of holy water in his pocket. He wasn't sure exactly what Eric was, so he had decided to cover his bases. According to his research, most supernatural beings could be hurt by at least one of those things. Unfortunately, bringing the blade that killed the Gray Man to school wasn't an option, so he'd hidden it along the path where he'd followed Eric the day before.

Three different times he considered telling the others. Once before school started when Todd was waiting for the girls alone. But then they'd arrived and walked in together, and Arnie lost his chance. Then, at lunch, he almost sat down at their usual table to let them in on everything, but instead he kept on walking. He came the closest in PE. Arnie and Raleigh were on the same dodgeball team, and he turned to her in the heat of the game, opened his mouth? and promptly got whacked hard in the ear. It stung long after the moment passed.

And so he was again following Eric alone, hands shoved deep into his pockets to ward off the early winter chill, his breath filling the air in front of him like he was a steam engine, the Little Engine That Could Stop Eric, the one who paid attention and saw instead of trying to retreat back to normal life.

He could do this. Friends or no friends.

Arnie reached the spot with the blade faster than he expected and bent to retrieve it. His fingers fumbled for it in the cold, and he was convinced for long, terrifying seconds that someone had discovered the hiding place. But there it was, sharp and solid and lighter than it had any right to be.

"Why are you following me?"

Arnie almost dropped the knife as he jumped, and just barely had the presence of mind to shove it in his pocket before turning to face his accuser.

"Following you?"

Eric let out a sigh so deep that it seemed to flow from his very soul. "Can we please just move past the part where you deny it? I'm really not in the mood."

Arnie hadn't planned for the possibility of getting caught out in the open. But if this was where it had to happen, so be it. He put the iron and silver in one hand and the holy water in the other. "I demand that you leave this boy's body and return to where you came from!" He rushed forward, startling Eric, and pressed the metals into the side of his face.

"Ow, Jesus, what's wrong with you, man!" Eric said, stumbling back.

Nothing happened, so Arnie unstoppered the vial of holy water and splashed it on Eric's other cheek. The boy screamed and fell, holding his face.

Arnie breathed in sharply. I was right!

Except that Eric stopped screaming almost immediately and looked up at him, fear warring with fury. "Why would you - ? What was that?"

Being questioned wasn't part of the plan. "Uh. Holy water?"

Eric's face contorted with confusion, then he started to laugh. "Are you freaking kidding me? Holy water?! I thought it was acid, you jerk! What are you, hunting vampires? You're insane."

Arnie bristled. "You don't know what you're talking about. Were you not around to see the blood literally raining from the sky last month? Besides, you're the one trying to raise demons - " He trailed off as he realized what he'd said.

Eric's laugh died and he jumped up, jabbing a finger into Arnie chest. "You're following me? In the woods yesterday? That was private!"

Arnie pushed the skinnier boy back and brought himself up to his full height. "I won't let you bring your demon pals here."

Eric snorted. "Really? 'Demon pals'?"

Arnie was flummoxed. "Or whatever you are! I know something's controlling you. What exactly were you trying to do yesterday?"

Eric crossed his arms. "None of your business, stalker."

"Well, then?" Arnie searched. "I'll tell someone! I think the principal would be pretty interested to - "

"Ugh, fine!" Eric and looked down at the ground, kicking at the dirt. "I was trying to talk with, you know, dead things. Ghosts, zombies, whatever. The book wasn't super clear. Plus, it's not like it's real."

That gave Arnie pause. He decided to float right past it. "Why would you want to talk to dead things?"

Eric shot him a withering glare. "Because I'm dying, genius! And I want to know, you know, what it's like. I want to prepare. I want - I can't just not do anything." He slumped toward the road and flopped down on the curb, hugging his knees and resting his chin on his arms.

The wind stopped. Arnie wasn't sure he'd heard correctly. "You're what?" he asked carefully, following the boy over.

Eric scoffed, running his hands over his bald head. "Think this was a choice? I missed sixth grade because I was in the hospital most of last year."

Arnie blinked. Oh.

"They say I'm in remission, but they've said that before. I keep fighting - I have to keep fighting - but it's just a matter of time. I've been marked for death. And now I see it everywhere, all the time."

Arnie wasn't sure why, but he felt both lighter and heavier at the same time. He sat down next to Eric. "I know what you mean."

Eric narrowed his eyes, disbelieving. "How could you possibly know?"

Arnie cleared his throat. "I was, uh, marked, too. A while back. Not cancer. Not the same as you, but? Then I beat it. And everything was supposed to go back to normal. But it's not."

Eric gave him a probing look, then nodded. "So you know. Welcome to the club. Everything feels different after you get the news."

Arnie nodded emphatically. "So different." He stared at his breath in the cold. "Doesn't remission mean you're not sick? That you beat it?"

Eric scoffed. "For now. That's the part that sucks. It could be forever. But it could also come back next week. Or next year. Or in twenty years after I'm married with kids. I never get to stop worrying about it."

That hit Arnie hard. "I'm so sorry. That's awful."

Eric shrugged. "Just life."

Suddenly, Arnie stood. "No, man. That's not fair. No one should have to live like that. Constantly looking over your shoulder. There has to be something that can be done."

One side of Eric's mouth curled up in a smile. "Well, I did try to talk to ghosts yesterday. That was something."

A laugh erupted from Arnie's throat before he could stop it. Big and hearty and devoid of fear. When Eric joined in, more of the weight that Arnie didn't realize had been pressing down on him for weeks drifted away.

"So how do you? let things be normal?" he asked. "What helps?"

"Normal?" This made Eric laugh even harder. "I find out, I'll let you know."

Arnie sat back down. It wasn't an answer. But somehow, it made things better. At least for the moment.

"Sorry about the holy water," Arnie said.

Eric flicked a few remaining drops from his face. "Hey, maybe it helps with cancer, too."

"This helps," Arnie said, giving Eric the slightest of grins.

The corner of Eric's mouth twitched up. "Yeah," he said. "Yeah, it does."

Eric didn't make a move to get up, so neither did Arnie. 'Real' or not, he didn't think whatever dark force had touched him was gone forever. Arnie would be dealing with it for a while. Maybe forever.

But in that moment, it was enough just to not feel alone.