“And I tell you, it was way, way out in the middle of nowhere. Weren’t no road or path for miles around and yet there they were. Masks and pumpkins and scraps of cloth floating in the breeze. And all of them standing and hanging and waiting in this clearing, like some sort of ritual thing. Like an offering to some unholy god. And then, as the sun went down over that hill, it was like someone held a matchstick up to the gasoline clouds and the sky turned this fiery orange. And at the same time, this horrible ringing sound started in my ears and then the leaves on the ground rose up like a tornado in slow motion and just sort of hovered there in midair. And all of them ghost things hanging from the bare branches turned around and faced me with their hollow eyes in their flat white faces and I was gone. I ain't never run so fast in my life."