Ed turned to Howie. "You are the one who prepares the dead."

Both hikers studied him. Ed's eyes flicked between them.

"So you say," Howie said. He took on a laidback demeanor, trying to appear non-threatening. "Why don't we get you guys some help, okay?"

"You." Ed focused on Howie, willing the hiker to meet his gaze.

"Hey," Howie began, but his voice drifted off. His eyes locked with Ed's. Howie felt himself say to his mind: look away. Look away! But he couldn't.

"I call you," Ed said.

"Yes." Howie uttered the one word, but his jaw kept moving, as if he were trying to form more words, but no sound came out of his mouth.

"Howie?" Lewis moved forward quickly, but a terrorizing glare from Ed made him freeze. "What's going on?" he whispered.

Howie continued to stare at Ed. His jaw worked silently. But his mind was screaming for Lewis to rescue him. Howie knew his life was being sucked out of him, pulled out into the dead eyes of the man standing before him. He knew this, but was powerless to do anything.

"It is time." Ed's intense gaze penetrated Howie's being.

"Yes," Howie said, succ.u.mbing to the pressure that overwhelmed him. His arms went limp at his sides.

Ed turned to Lewis. "You."

"What are you doing to us?" Lewis asked in a shaky voice. He dropped the water bottle and took one step back.

But Ed's hypnotic presence was too much for him. Lewis gave up his mortal self without a fight. He let himself drift into Ed, and it wasn't until an unbearable pain seared his very core that he tried to struggle against the force invading him. But it was too late.

"I call you," Ed said.

Lewis nodded.

"Come."

Ed gestured at the two hikers, and they shuffled forward. Ed turned and started up through the trees. Samuel and Mick fell into step behind him, with Lewis and Howie in the rear. They marched like a silent brigade up the hill.

The backpacks remained, gravestones marking the presence of the men who had once stood on the path.

The spirit beings returned with the new victims to the clearing and found it empty. No humans presently defiled the ceremonial site, but their aftermath remained in the trampled ground, the reek of human sweat, and the smell of dread. The human interference polluted the site.

Ed stood in the center of the clearing and surveyed the area, the spirit in him knowing that the releasing ceremony would go forward inexorably. The instruments of evil had already been set. The clearing was but an earthly place. Power was the mechanism that propelled everything on this prepared journey.

Ed moved the one with water to his left and the one with fire to his right, then positioned the two hikers in front of them. He touched the one with water with his mutilated left hand and the one with fire with his right, and a diabolic force flowed between them like a hurricane. The woods seemed to be on fire and heat coursed through the clearing. The fisherman channeled the otherworldly forces. Soon the ones with water and fire joined him, the three summoning up all the infernal depths in an eerie mantra.

The bodies of the two hikers arched upwards off the ground. Guttural cries escaped their lips as darkness descended over them. Their eyes popped open, filling momentarily with blood, mouths gaping open in deadly screams, a black vortex sucking the noise from the air.

Then it was finished, and there were two more. The spirit in Ed contemplated the one with water and the one with fire. They were learning, knowing, feeding off the energy. Soon they would be able to go out on their own and retrieve more hosts. Soon they would have all the necessary ones, and the time of release would be upon them. The gathering would continue until they had all returned. It was as it should be, as it was set into motion so long ago. And once they were gathered, they would unite with their leader and seek their liberation.

This thought flooded the spirit in Ed with power. The air grew heavy. It knew the time was coming.

CHAPTER 27.

When Rory had awoken a little after eight on Monday morning, the image of Anna immediately came to his mind. At first, he was angry with her. Angry that her mood had so suddenly changed, without explanation, and after things had started out so well. Then he got angry with himself, for not saying more about it. While he ate breakfast, he decided that he would stay at the cabin today to avoid seeing Anna. But after finishing a cup of coffee on the porch, he changed his mind. He wanted to talk to her, to find out what went wrong. So after a quick shower, he rowed across the lake, noting that fewer boats were out this morning. Since it was a weekday, he would've expected this. But he was a little surprised that Old Man Brewster wasn't out on the dock, ha.s.sling people.

Rory walked down the dirt road, looking at the buildings in the hot summer sun. A few tourists were headed toward the lake. Jimmy wasn't in his rocker on the porch of the general store. And no one occupied the wooden tables outside the Silver Dollar Cafe. The restaurant appeared to be closed, which seemed odd since they were open every day. Something was not quite right, as if the earth's axis had tilted slightly, upsetting a delicate balance in the town's day-to-day happenings.

As he neared the general store, Rory saw a woman watching him from the front window of the Colorado Mountain Art Gallery. He knew from talking to Myrtle that it was Pamela Henderson. He waved at her. She barely acknowledged him before turning away. He moved on and noticed a sedan with emergency lights parked by the lake. The sheriff was in town.

I wonder what's up, he thought as he went up the steps of the general store. A number of glances fell on him as he strode through the door.

Anna stood behind the counter, one hand wrapped around her midsection, the other nervously playing with her hair. Travis Velario gawked at her as he munched on a donut. Jimmy sat on a fold-up chair near the door, contemplating the floor. Lillian Chadwick, the postmistress, had a cup of hot tea in her hand and was busy talking to a towering uniformed man with blond hair in a military cut. Nearby, Myrtle listened with rapt attention, one hand holding tightly to Boo's collar.

"h.e.l.lo," Rory said quietly to the group that was now focused on him. He stepped into the room, placing a friendly hand on Jimmy's shoulder as he pa.s.sed. He took in the distressed faces, lingering on Anna's. "What's going on?"

No one answered at first, and Lillian stopped talking. Boo thumped his tail audibly in the awkward silence. Anna started to speak, but lost her voice. Her hand went quickly to her mouth, stifling a cough. "h.e.l.lo, Rory," Myrtle finally responded. She waved a hand at the officer. "This is Clinton Truitt." He had to look up to meet the man's gaze. He guessed that the sheriff was in his fifties, but he was well-built, slender but muscular. He looked tired.

"A couple of boys have gone missing," Lillian said, her clipped British accent and lack of expression making her statement seem routine. Rory suspected she had distanced herself from the news.

"Who?" he asked.

"Mick Hull and his friend Nicholas D'Angelo," Clinton said. He had a voice like his demeanor, gentle but full of strength.

Rory's gaze strayed to Anna's. She threw him a cautious look. "When were they seen last?" He turned his focus back to the sheriff.

"Not since yesterday afternoon." Clinton took off his hat and picked at the brim. "The parents did some checking around town last night before reporting the boys missing. We looked for them last night, and then again after daybreak." His wrinkled uniform, gaunt face, and shadows under his brown eyes gave him the appearance of a man who hadn't slept much last night, if at all.

"There's no trace of them?"

"No, the only thing out of the ordinary was a burned spot in a clearing out past the Matchless Mine."

"Like a campfire?" Travis asked.

Clinton appeared puzzled. "No, not like that at all. It was like someone made a perfect circle and then burned the gra.s.s in it." His brow furrowed. "Maybe they came across some weird cult thing."

"Do you get that kind of thing up here?" Rory asked.

Clinton shook his head. "None that I've ever seen, but I've heard about stuff like that happening in the mountains."

"They'll turn up," Travis mumbled as he popped another donut in his mouth. "They're just some dumb kids who got lost."

Clinton glared at Travis. "I hope that's all it is."

"That's not all," Myrtle told Rory. "Ed Miller still hasn't been around for cigarettes, and Samuel Friedman is missing."

"What do you mean? We saw Samuel last night." Rory was incredulous. He focused on Anna. "Did you tell the sheriff that?"

"We were talking about Ed and Samuel before you came in," Anna answered. "Apparently Joan hasn't seen Samuel since she went over to visit Lillian around lunchtime. Samuel was gone when she came back to the cafe, and he hasn't been back since."

"Is he at Ed's?"

Anna shook her head. "I went out with Myrtle and Joan earlier this morning. The place is abandoned. No one's seen Ed since he came in here yesterday to buy cigarettes."

"But they found Samuel's fishing pole and tackle box near that small lake where they like to go fishing," Travis said, pointing with his head at Clinton.

"Any signs of violence?" Rory asked Clinton.

"None."

"Joan's beside herself with worry," Lillian murmured, and Myrtle nodded.

Rory looked at them. "Do you think they could've done something to those kids?"

Myrtle and Lillian both shook their heads vehemently. "There's no way they'd do anything like that," Myrtle said, raising her voice.

"We have to consider all possibilities," Clinton interjected. "Although at the moment those two men are only listed as missing." The implication that if the kids weren't found, the men would be likely suspects was evident to everyone.

Rory knew the sheriff was right, and he honestly didn't know Ed or Samuel well enough to know if they had skeletons in their closets, ones that would kidnap children. In his line of work, Rory had certainly seen worse.

"You have to watch out for it, Sheriff," Jimmy suddenly interrupted. "Don't be fooled like I was."

"Dad," Anna said sharply. She threw Jimmy a look of sheer impatience. Travis stifled a snicker and received a dirty look from her.

"What do you mean?" Clinton asked Jimmy.

"It's like that time on the lake." Jimmy sniffled.

"It's nothing," Anna said.

"Oh, I see," Clinton responded as he glanced sympathetically at Anna, acknowledging that Jimmy was old and confused.

"What about the kids?" Travis brought the conversation back to the situation at hand.

"Did you know them?" Clinton gazed down at him.

Travis scratched his chin. "Those two boys that always hung around together, right?"

"Those are the ones," Anna agreed. She barely spoke above a whisper. Rory glanced at her, but she averted her gaze quickly.

"So you've seen them around town?" Clinton said.

"How could you miss them?"

Clinton raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"

"They were typical teenagers," Travis answered. "You know, a little too loud and obnoxious, trying to get people's attention. And I saw Old Man Brewster giving them a hard time."

"Where?" Since Clinton didn't ask who Brewster was, Rory a.s.sumed that he was familiar with the old man.

"Out on the dock," Travis continued. "I guess the boys were rocking their boat and Brewster warned them about it."

"Warned them how?"

Travis seemed to delight in shedding a disturbing light on Brewster. "The old man said if they weren't careful, someone would get hurt, and the police would end up here." As he spoke, Rory could tell by the look on the sheriff's face that Brewster had quickly become a suspect.

"So Brewster had a confrontation with them," Clinton said.

"That sounds pretty strong." Rory wasn't sure why he was defending Brewster, except that he couldn't see the old man hurting anyone. "Brewster's harmless."

"That's true," Anna said, and the other ladies nodded their agreement.

"Anybody know where he is now?" Clinton scanned their faces.

"Beats me," Anna finally said.

"I didn't see him down at the dock," Rory answered.

"He's usually around there all day," Myrtle said.

"I'll have to check his place," Clinton said. He made notes on a small pad. "So," he turned his attention back to Rory. "Where were you yesterday afternoon and evening?"

"I was with Anna from a little before six o'clock on. We went to a movie and dinner in Boulder." Rory tried to meet Anna's eyes, but she was looking at the floor.

Clinton nodded like he'd heard this before. "And before that?"

"I was over on the west side of the lake. I'm staying at the cabin out there."

"Your place?" Clinton swung to Myrtle, who nodded.

"Was anyone out there with you?" Clinton returned to Rory.

"I was by myself."

Clinton made more notes. "You have a phone out there?"

Rory shook his head. "And I don't have a cell phone."

"It wouldn't work up here anyway," Anna murmured.

"Don't go anywhere for now." Clinton turned to the others in the room. "I'm afraid that goes for all of you. Until we track down those kids, I'd like all of you to stick around."

"What are you doing about the kids?" Rory asked.