Chapter 10
What happens next comes with the stench of gunpowder and a burst of the supernatural.
Head down, William plows into Orson, catching him around the waist. The report of the gunshot echoes in the enclosed space. My ears ring in the aftermath. Both William and Orson are shouting, but their words are murky.
My left shoulder throbs as if I’ve been stung by a wasp. I clamp a hand on the spot, and it comes away red. For a too-long moment, I stand there staring at my b****y palm.
The hallway fills with ghosts. Several come to my aid, whirling around my neck, consoling me, others flattening themselves against the wound, slowing the flow of blood. Perhaps it’s the chill that brings me back to myself. I inspect my shoulder—just a graze—and the hole in the wall behind me.
William rolls
