When the dead become immortal, the living will die...
Caretakers protect human souls. Jumpers prey on them. RG and Kacey Granville patrol the boundary between the material plane and the spiritual realm, keeping the order and safeguarding their kind. But when a jumper discovers the secret of everlasting life, they come face to face with a horrifying evil that threatens to unleash a power deadlier than any jumper has ever possessed.
To thwart this jumper’s reign of terror, RG and Kacey must journey to Hell’s edge to face an unparalleled threat to humanity. Their only hope is to summon everything in their otherworldly arsenal to halt this malicious spirit before he opens the door to the afterlife’s dark evil—and a waiting legion of jumpers that cannot die.
The weary house stood in the shadow of an overgrown maple, its dense leaf canopy bathing it in perpetual darkness. Rot had formed in the window corners and a scaly moss blanketed the roof’s cracked shingles like a spreading disease. The dwelling remained partially visible from the main drag, but if you hiked along Barnard Street past the broken down service station and abandoned strip mall you could get a good look at it resting at the edge of the crumbling parking lot.
The building emerged from the post war housing boom when one-family residences had bloomed like dandelions across America’s landscape. Families had lived there once, celebrated Christmases, birthdays, job promotions, and graduations. Children had run through the backyard sprinkler while parents kept an eye from plastic lawn chairs and sipped ice tea in the hazy New England heat.
Time had passed, and people moved away. But no one came back to visit Barnard Street.
No one stood at the edge of the parking lot and reminisced about their childhood, wondering what the house now looked like inside or who lived in their old bedroom. No one dug into their attic’s moldy boxes to retrieve family photos from their days on Barnard Street. In fact, most had abandoned the dwelling in haste, leaving their belongings and haunted nightmares behind. For those who had passed through its hungry walls, the house held a legacy of misfortune, death, and misery. Barnard Street travelers especially could sense the house’s deadly aura. They would grip their children’s hands tighter and quicken their pace as they passed, as if the living structure might come alive and snatch them.
The town of Chatham had tried to raze the structure after it had taken Marcus Bailey’s young bride in the spring of ’49, just days after the wedding. But when the city’s excavator leveled its boom against the clapboard siding and pushed, the bucket somehow dislodged an electrical wire, sending it snaking into the cab and electrocuting the operator. After that, no one took on the demolition contract, and the Barnard Street house remained.
The property stood vacant most of the time, but tonight a light burned in a smudged window.
The man stared out through the wavy glass into the pitch black night. He had come seeking shelter, not knowing the house’s reputation or the tragedies befalling those who had called it home. He couldn’t have imagined what lay in wait through the passageway in the back bedroom, the dark evil pulsing beneath the floorboards, deep down in the earth.
But he would soon become a part of Barnard Street’s dark history.