The flash lit the steel door with a brilliance the metal had not seen since the veritable explosion so many years ago. Anthony’s shadow danced across the rusted surface as he ducked into the opening, with Dolan close on his heels.

The psychic looked back to see the men guarding the door were piling on the steel to push it shut, their faces masked in fear as on the day they died. At the last second, before the door closed completely, the officer ducked into the shelter.

As Melissa ran towards the guard tower, the path was lit by waving lights with the buzz of ATVs making her look to her left. The paramedics were nearing working their way to the ambulance. Beyond the men, she saw a flash in the distance and understood what was happening. With a wild desperation, forgetting about the ghosts, she waved at the men, beckoning them to the tower.

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The wind hit the valley floor and flowed outward from the center of the valley to obliterate anything in its path. Like the original explosion, the wind formed a concussion wave that uprooted trees and phantom wreckage. No longer did the valley look as it had decades ago. Now it was a montage of the new and the old.

Carrying debris, the wind roiled like an enormous wave and raced toward Paulie as he strained to watch death coming.

The ATV jumped over an old pile of junk at the mouth of the draw, Brock standing over the handlebars to steady the ATV and land it on all four wheels. The wind slammed into the sheer rock wall behind the men, roiled in a confusion of eddies, then flowed into the draw, gaining strength from the mass of air forced into tight confines.

The howl of the wind was more than Paulie could take and he screamed as the ATV shot down the draw.