As the stream began to climb, it had formed a natural setting for a mill. Dilapidated, the remains of one crouched alongside the stream. This was far from where anybody now lived, like the Deserted Village in Watchung Reservation. Danielle had taken him there. Technically Feltville, it had been a place where a community had thrived, but had eventually been abandoned. Houses still stood, falling apart, but the area was now being preserved. Of course, in New Jersey nothing was really far from anything else, but here? From the mill Terah saw scattered, clearly forsaken houses, up on the hill. Some towns, like New Amsterdam, caught on and became New York City. Others, like Pithole City near where he had entered the world, were left to rot. It was like when you had an idea and began to follow it, but others dropped out when it wasn’t an instant success. Terah recalled that Weird New Jersey had designated the area around Feltville “the Enchanted Forest.” Young people
It wasn’t Lindsey. Instinctively he darted behind a tree and held his breath. He heard footsteps but saw no one. Thoughts of Billy returned. The boy had been convinced the ghosts were calling him. When Terah had got him on the trail back to their tent he boy stood panicked, flashing his light into the treetops. “The voices,” he cried, “they’re coming after me!” Although it’d been summer, Terah shivered. “Billy, you’ve got to believe me! There are no voices!” He’d had some psychology at college, but nothing had prepared him for this. Indeed, his religious classes hadn’t exactly convinced him that his faith was wrong, but he’d come to doubt the supernatural. Science courses found a mechanistic universe much easier to comprehend. Could Billy really be seeing ghosts? The way he darted his flashlight beam around was creepy, unsettling. Now Terah found himself in the woods on a sunny January day. He was alone but he heard someone he couldn’t see. Had his slowl