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rked； Steve had to wonder where in hell the apple had e from。 He took a big bite and handed it back； chewing slowly； letting the golden…tasting juice run over his tongue： crunchy； sweet。 The taste made him feel better。 〃You remember the Hook？〃 he asked after he had swallowed the mouthful。 〃That old spook story？〃
〃Uh…uh；〃 said Ghost； eating the core of the apple。 Steve watched to see whether Ghost would spit out the seeds。 When he didn't； Steve spoke again。 〃You know； that story about the kids out at Lovers Lane。 They're fucking in the backseat； and all of a sudden this bulletin es on the radio about a crazy man escaped from the asylum outside of town。 A psycho killer with a hook instead of a hand。〃
Steve looked at Ghost。 Ghost was leaning against one of the fence posts； head tilted back； staring at the sky。 The moon had gone behind a cloud。 Ghost's face was shadowed； his eyes dark。 He might have been listening； then again； he might have been receiving messages from an agrarian collective civilization somewhere near Alpha Centauri。
〃So they hauled ass out of Lovers Lane；〃 Steve went on anyway； 〃and when they got home； the boy went around the car to open the door for the girl。 And what do you think he found？ A bloody hook； hanging from the handle of the door！〃 He leaned over and spoke the last words right into Ghost's ear。
Ghost jumped； almost fell over。 He stared at Steve for several seconds； then grinned。 〃Out at Lovers Lane？〃 he asked。 Both of them turned to look at the T…bird parked in the clearing。 It sat large and dusty； its engine giving an occasional metallic groan as it cooled。
〃How e…〃 Ghost began； and Steve knew Ghost was about to exhibit the weird； irritating logic that sometimes possessed him。 He was going to ask how e the couple had the radio on while they were fucking； or why the psycho killer would have reached to open the car door with his hook when he could have used his hand。 But then the moon sailed out from behind its cloud and flooded the hill with cold white light； and Ghost sucked in his breath； sharp and scared。
Steve followed Ghost's gaze to the oak and saw nothing at all。 But he knew Ghost saw something there。 And somehow that was scarier than seeing it himself。
Ghost felt his feet moving。 He hadn't told them to move。 He wasn't even sure he wanted them to move。 He took several steps toward the oak； and when he got close enough； the outline of the twins grew clearer； more solid。
They were balanced on a low branch； their legs swinging； their hands climbing like delicate white insects along the trunk。 Closer still； and Ghost could smell them： their strange； heady bouquet of strawberry incense； clove cigarettes； wine and blood and rain and the sweat of passion。 All the things they had loved when they were alive； the things that dragged them down； drove them to live upon each other's essence until they ran dry。 But here on this midnight hill； in the pallid moonlight； the twins were beautiful still。 They wore colored silks； silks that caught the moon and threw it back in a thousand shades of iridescence。 And Ghost could see no spiderweb tracery of age on their faces。 He saw only their dark lips； their brittle； false…colored； silken hair of lemon…yellow and cherry…red； their eyes like silver pearl； filmy and pupilless。
But they were looking at him； he knew that； and when he was close enough to touch the trunk of the tree； one of them spoke to him。 It was only his name； whispered through the branches； 〃Ghost；〃 but it was like a wind blowing from across a strange sea； like an unseen rustle in an empty room。 Ghost put his hand on the trunk； near a slender silk…clad leg so tangible he wanted to stroke it。
Why was he seeing them now； these creatures from his dream？ He had thought they were pitiful； but now they frightened him。 He found himself wondering what they had bee after their death； how death had changed them。 If they were somehow alive even now； what allowed them to be？ And why had he dreamed of them in the first place？
Ghost was used to asking himself such questions。 He had been visited in his dreams by the dead； he had dreamed the future as clearly as a story in a book； he had been able to pick up the thoughts and feelings of people he was close to…and other people if he concentrated…for as long as he could remember。 But he had never been visited while awake by creatures from one of his dreams。
〃What is it？〃 Steve called from across the clearing。
〃Hello； Ghost；〃 said the crimson…haired twin； smiling down at him with rouged lips。 Those lips were too dark in that pale； peaked face； and there was no warmth in that smile； only a spasm of muscles long forgotten； a memory of a smile。 But Ghost looked up into those flat silvery eyes； and he was not afraid for his own safety。 Not yet。 These twins had been dead a long time； if indeed they had ever lived outside his dream。
〃Of course we haven't；〃 said the first twin； catching Ghost's thought。 〃We're just your dream。〃
〃We don't go around killing little niggerboys on lonely roadsides long past midnight just to suck their lives out。〃
〃He didn't taste exquisite； did he； love； at the moment of death？ No； we didn't suck out that little boy's life； Ghost。〃
〃Nooo； not us； not so we could stay beautiful。 We're just your dream。。。。 〃
Obviously they did not intend him to believe it。 Beneath the twins' exotic scent Ghost caught a whiff of decay； dry and stale； edged with pale brown。 Their skin suddenly looked brittle； as if the touch of a breeze would flake it away from fragile ivory bones。 Ghost wanted to ask them whether it hurt to rot； whether they grew lonely in the grave。 He wanted to know whether they were buried together in a casket big enough for two bodies…big enough for two small dry bodies that knew how to fit together like a puzzle of blood and bone。 Or did their graves lie side by side； and did they have to reach through the earth to clasp hands？
He had to find out what they were； whether they were dangerous。 Reluctantly he reached out and tried to touch their minds； reluctantly he found them。 Their minds were like echoes； like haunted rooms from which all the life had gone。 The touch of their thoughts was light； fluttering； as cold and silver as graveyard stone； as voracious as feeding animals。 They took Ghost into the grave with them； and he saw the darkest darkness that ever was； darker than a starless night on the mountain where he'd been born； darker than the darkness that swam up behind his closed eyelids when he lay in bed at night； darker than the hour before dawn。
He was lying on rotten satin； and he felt his tissues drying and shrivelling inside him； felt the secret loving movement of the creatures that shared his grave； the pale worms； the shiny beetles with their delicate black legs； the things without shape or name； too tiny to be seen； the hungry things turning his flesh back into new rich earth…
〃Ghost！ What the fuck are you doing？〃 Steve's hands were on him； large and strong and undeniably real； Steve's bony fingers digging into Ghost's shoulders。
Ghost leaned back against Steve。 〃It doesn't hurt；〃 he said …to Steve？ to the twins？ He kne