My lungs burning, I broke through the mist, ignoring the buzzing around me as I charged out into the field. I fought my way through the woodlot until I was in sight of the house, and Katie, barking up a storm, came loping out to greet me and accompany me on my escape run. I col apsed onto the back porch, sucking wind. The air was crisp, cool, and smel ed of the fire in the wood stove. I could feel the wet Astro Turf-carpeted stairs beneath me and could hear Katie lapping from her water bowl. Yet nothing seemed real or concrete. I put my head between my knees. There was something weird about the clearing, al right. Either I'd been hal ucinating, or I'd just had a run-in with freaking ghosts. There was no other explanation. An incredible sadness fil ed me for the loss of the friend Henry could have been for me. But wait a second—I'd felt him. I'd punched him on the arm, and he was as real as anything. He'd fed me at the creek. And I'd hugged him. No—he'd held me. I'd smel ed the soap and sweat on his skin.
