Lake Thirteen by Greg Herren Read Free Book Online Page A

course, in 1907 it could have been anything—the flu, measles—back then, any number of diseases that nowadays were just nuisances were often fatal—
    What is wrong with me?
    —and the sorrow, that overwhelming sadness, was growing stronger and seemed to be seeping into every corner of my consciousness. I shivered again.
    Out of the corner of my eye I noticed that everyone else had gathered around yet another tombstone closer to where I was kneeling next to Albert’s grave. Teresa was waving at me frantically, so with one last glance at Albert’s headstone, I stood up and walked down the slight slope, carefully avoiding stepping on graves.
    The sadness started fading away but I was still cold.
    “What’s—” I started to say, but Carson shushed me.
    “Look at the flags,” Carson whispered. He pointed.
    I turned my head in the direction they were all staring. Illuminated inside the vast swath of light cast by the headlights of the car were several graves with small American flags planted on them, a few feet from their headstones. There were five or six graves in close proximity, and all the flags hung limply except for one that was waving wildly in a nonexistent breeze.
    And it was directly in the center of the grouping of graves.
    “That’s not possible,” I heard myself saying in a low voice. “How can the other flags not be moving?”
    “There’s not any wind,” Rachel said, her voice shaking a little. “No wind at all.”
    “Do you believe now?” Carson whispered triumphantly. “How else could that flag be moving if a ghost wasn’t trying to get our attention?”
    We stood there in silence for a few moments that seemed like hours, watching the little flag waving. Finally, Carson pulled a recording device out of his shirt pocket. “Come on,” he whispered and started walking toward the grave. Logan and Teresa followed, but Rachel and I hung back.
    “Creepy, huh?” Rachel kept her voice low. “Do you think it’s a ghost?”
    “I thought you said there was no such thing,” I whispered back to her, unable to take my eyes away from the waving flag. “But what other explanation can there be?” I shivered again.
    “Well, it’s certainly not the wind.” She shook her head. “Carson’s going to be impossible to live with now.” She sounded annoyed, as though a ghost had started moving the flag specifically to irritate her.
    I didn’t answer her and turned back to look back toward Albert’s grave.
    I could feel the sadness creeping back into me again, growing stronger with each second until I felt like all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and just sob.
    “Are you okay?” I heard Rachel asking in a strange tone. Her voice sounded hollow and distant, like she was standing a good distance away rather than right next to me.
    I didn’t answer her. Instead, I started walking back to Albert’s grave, and vaguely I was aware of her following me, the sound of her feet swishing through the damp grass.
    I felt numb and forced myself to swallow. The cold was getting more intense the closer I got to Albert’s grave.
    Isn’t cold a sign of a haunting, didn’t you read that in a book somewhere, that ghosts always bring cold with them?
    I shook my head. There’s no such thing as ghosts. It’s just getting colder out here, that’s all.
    But the sadness—why was I feeling so sad?
    I closed my eyes—
    —and almost jumped out of my skin when Rachel grabbed my arm. “Come on,” she whispered urgently, “let’s go see what they’re doing.”
    I opened my eyes and looked longingly back at Albert Tyler’s headstone before reluctantly following Rachel away.
    It didn’t feel right walking away from Albert’s grave.
    But that didn’t make any sense.
    I looked back over my shoulder as we walked to where the others were standing. There wasn’t anything there but a tombstone—but the sadness kept fading the farther I got from Albert’s grave.
    I turned my head back around when I heard Carson