“You do know what we’re dealing with here, don’t you?” I ask. “She’s not just a ghost. She’s a hurricane. Overkill is fine by me.”

“She’s no ordinary ghost, that seems certain,” he says. “I know. Something’s made her stronger.” “The way she died?” he asks. “I’m not sure. From what I’ve heard, she was just murdered like so many others. Throat slit. But now she’s haunting her old house, killing whoever steps inside, like some goddamn spider.”

“I’m not afraid. Despite the searing between my eyes andthe knowledge that something is coming for me, somethingthat could easily rip out my spleen and pop it like a waterballoon, I am not afraid. She’s with me. She’s my purposeand we’re going to save each other. We’re going to saveeveryone. And then I’m going to convince her that she’ssupposed to stay here. With me.”

“You know what you are, don’t you?” she asks. “You’re my salvation. My way to atone. To pay for everything I’ve done."“Anna,” I say. “Don’t ask me to do this.”

“Land of the Dead? Is that what you dream about?” she asks. “Boy who kills ghosts for a living?” “No. I dream about penguins doing bridge construction. Don’t ask why.”

“I love her.” “She’s dead.” “That doesn’t mean to me what it does to other people.”

“She’s standing above me the goddess of death, black lips and cold hands.”