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Corey

COREY WAS THERE WHEN HIS MOM DIED. IT’S A COLD FACT. BUT HIS young brain blocked it out, and he’s never been able to remember the exact moment when it happened.

That changes when Penny starts to cry.

In his head, Corey is seven years old. He’s in the back seat of his mom’s SUV as it stops on the train tracks.

“Mama?” he says, but she ignores him as she keeps turning the key in the ignition. When the engine doesn’t turn over, she clutches the steering wheel.

“Why aren’t we moving?” Corey asks.

“Get out of the car, Corey,” his mom says, her voice shaking.

“But—”

“Out,” she snaps. “Now.”

In the distance, there’s a train whistle. Corey’s eyes well up with tears, because he hates it when his mom is mad at him. “I don’t want to.”

His mom sighs and then she takes off her necklace. When she turns to hand it to him, her expression is soft. “Can you take this for me? I don’t need it anymore.”

It’s the gold necklace with the crescent moon. Tanya never takes it off, but if she wants him to hold it, that’s fine. Corey shrugs and grabs it.

“Now do me a favor,” his mom says. “Take this phone and call your dad. Tell him you’re by the tracks on the east side of town.”

“Can’t you call him?” Corey asks.

“I need you to do this for me, okay?” She runs a hand over his hair. “I love you. Now get out and run as fast as you can.”

“Will you follow me?”

There’s a pause, and then his mom speaks the last words she’ll ever say to him: “In a minute.”

It isn’t until he gets out of the car that he sees the Shadow on the other side of the tracks and realizes something is wrong.

Standing in Mrs. Emberly’s hospital room, Corey can hear the crash of the train and the car in Penny’s deep, guttural sobs. He can hear his seven-year-old self screaming, and his dad’s panic on the phone, and the crows screeching and scattering into the sky as the train comes to a stop.

Not again , he thinks, but he must say it out loud, because his dad moves to his side. James doesn’t say anything; instead, he pulls Corey into the first hug he’s given him since his mom’s funeral. And Corey presses his fists to his ears, trying to drown out that damn train whistle.