His grip tightens across my back. “You’re okay now.”
It’s warm in the crook between his shoulder and his neck, and his scent—of leaves, and books, and pinecones—soothes me. I try to explain what I experienced, but I find it difficult to express.Terroris the one word I come back to, again and again.
I feel Leo’s throat bob and hear his deep swallow. He says, voice heavy with remorse, “There was a bad accident down here, but I thought…I thought it had happened further back. I thought we’d avoided it.”
An accident? “What? Where?”
“On the railway.”
It takes me a second, but I finally catch on. “You mean there was an accident a hundredyears ago?”
He nods. “I assumed it was at the depot, back there in the town, but I guess it wasn’t.”
“What happened?” I ask, even though I’m not sure I want to know.
“There’s not a lot of information about it, but from what I’ve read, it sounds like some workers were trying to secure a train car of timber, and the ropes broke or slipped or something.” Leo sucks in a breath. “All I know for sure is that seven men were crushed to death.”
Under an avalanche of logs.
Holy shit.
I stare out at the path, convinced that if I blink, I’ll see those workers. Or the logs tumbling from the train car. I imagine the shouts of the bystanders, the terrific thunder of twenty tons of wood hitting the earth and splashing into the river.
I imagine the terror of those seven men. What they must have felt during those eternal seconds between the first falling log and the end of their lives. The sudden darkness, the desperate panic, the dread. Those long, agonizing seconds of pain and struggle, knowing they were going to die.
Shock pulses from my chest to the crown of my head.
It can’t be.
I push against Leo’s chest until he lets me go.
“Betts—”
Wobbling to my feet, I make straight for the path, for that exact spot where the horror consumed me.
Leo snatches my wrist. “Don’t go back there.”
“Why not?” I retort, raging against the chaotic confusion inside me.
“Their energy is there. That’s what you felt.”
No, it’s not. I wrench free.I’ll prove it.
“Betts, don’t,” he hisses, grabbing my upper arm.
“I have to.” I pull him along with me, ignoring his protests. He tugs back until I wince, then he lets go. Unhindered, I hurry for the ditch, stumble into it, and walk. Three steps, four steps,five steps.
See? Nothing. No horror, no dread, no…
Panic bursts inside me like hot lava, buckling my knees.
“Betts!” Strong arms yank me off the path, holding me tight around my middle.
“Let me go!”
Leo growls, “No way.”
“I need to go back.” Doesn’t he understand? I might have to walk through that invisible sinkhole of terror a thousand times before I’ll believe it exists. Or before I believe that I can feel it.
