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you mean, they make good canaries?”
    Ericson waved at the cobbled street and motioned for us to walk forward. Without thinking about it, I fell into step with him. “Don’t you remember your mining history?” he said. “When the miners went down into the shafts, they took a canary along with them. When the birds dropped dead, they knew they needed to get back up top, and be quick about it.”
    “What does that have to do with what you’re doing to these poor animals?” I demanded.
    “They let me know where the ghosties are, Miss Holliday. And as it’s the way I make my trade, I couldn’t very well get along without the little darlings, now, could I?”
    Ericson’s soft voice and seductive brogue were at complete odds with how detestable I found him. I had no idea how to react to someone who so obviously didn’t care whether I judged him, and I was at a loss as to what to say next. I looked over at Heath for support, but his head was down and his shoulders were hunched. I suspected he was concentrating on keeping his own temper in line.
    I took two more steps and walked into hell. Or, to this day, what I’m convinced hell actually sounds like. My energy felt as if it was being assaulted from all sides; screams and wailing and a torrent of terror hit me like a battering ram.
    I stumbled back and grabbed my head. “Agh!” I moaned. Someone gripped my arm tightly and tried to pull me forward, but that was toward the horror that was surrounding me. I became completely disoriented, nauseous, and terrified. The noise around me felt like it was happening both inside and outside my head, like it was permeating through me, and the volume kept turning up, and up . . . and up.
    “Make it stop!” I shouted. But it wouldn’t. Instead, it got worse. “Gilley!” I screamed in agony. “Get me out of here!”
    I couldn’t see and I couldn’t hear above the noise, and I couldn’t feel anything besides the terror running up and down my spine. Finally I was aware that I was moving, and in another moment I was able to lift my head up. I realized that Gilley was half carrying me, half dragging me down the street. “Get Heath!” he shouted to someone nearby.
    And that’s when I realized that I was still hearing screams, but they came from only one source. Gilley set me gently on the ground next to the van. He lifted my chin and looked at me with grave concern. “M. J.? Can you hear me? Are you okay?”
    My head bobbled on my neck. I felt sick as a dog and like I was being sucked down, and down, and down, as if I were melting or fading away. “Water,” I gasped. “Gil, give me some water!”
    The screaming stopped and as Gil rushed to get a bottle of water out of the van, I saw Heath’s limp body being pulled between two of the crew over to where I sat.
    Gopher eased him down to the ground and held Heath’s head between his hands. “He’s out cold!” he said, then looked at me, his expression frightened and concerned. “ What happened to you two?”
    Someone chuckled behind Gopher and wearily I looked at the maker of the offensive noise. “They’ve had a taste of Briar Road, is all,” said Ericson, standing just behind Gopher.
    I swallowed hard, and considered whether I could lean far enough forward to throw up on his shoes. “You . . . total . . . dickhead . . . ,” I managed.
    Gilley came back to my side and held up the bottle of water. “Here, honey,” he coaxed. “Drink this.”
    I took a small sip but continued to glare at Ericson, who was thoroughly enjoying himself at our expense. “Let that be a lesson to you,” he said to me with a shake of his finger. “And next time, perhaps you’ll think twice about crossing the Atlantic to issue me a lecture.”
    With that, he turned on his heel and strode casually away.

Chapter 2
     
     
     
    Heath came to about ten minutes later. And even though he was soon fully conscious, he remained pale and withdrawn for the rest of the morning. “Tell me what