“Well, then we’d better get on with it,” Seamus said, nudging his horse into motion. He trotted past Thom and Cameron, taking the lead on the snow-strewn broken roadway. Thom frowned, watching him for a moment, then nudged his horse into motion, following him toward the crest of the hill. Behind him, J.T. sighed and followed, Cameron bringing up the rear, glancing back in the direction they’d come from. Thom reined in, waiting for Cameron to catch up, his brows arching.
“What’s wrong?”
Cameron shook his head. “Just something odd.”
“Like what?”
“Nothing I can put my finger on.” Cameron shifted in the saddle and sighed. “It’s probably nothing. Come on. We’d better catch up.”
Thom frowned, nudging his horse into motion again as Cameron did the same with his own. It’s never nothing.
Maybe this time it would be.
Seamus and J.T. had made it to the top of the hill and paused to wait for them to catch up. Seamus pointed to the west.
“Does that look like the settlement?”
Thom squinted into the distance, catching sight of half-built walls and a dozen buildings standing like an island amidst snow and Lake Michigan ice. “Hell,” he said softly. “It looks like something burned it.”
“I think I can see people,” J.T. said, brow furrowing. “Either they’re people, or they’re ghosts.”
Thom swallowed bile. “Let’s hope they’re the former, not the latter.” He couldn’t see them, but that didn’t mean that they weren’t there. What the hell happened down there? An accident, or something violent? His lips thinned. “But if they’re the latter, I think it’s probably good we’ve got you and Seamus along, Jay.”
J.T. glanced at him sidelong. “Why’s that?”
“You guys talk to ghosts. We’ll have an edge on finding out what happened here—and how we can make sure it doesn’t happen to us.”
