Molly and Billy followed an old and worn path through the woods. Dark trees rose above them. The last Vankraft lead the way with an electric lantern. Every now and then Molly had noticed shapes in the darkness but wasn’t able to work out what they were. They were, however, becoming more numerous. It slowly dawned on her they were walls. They were walking through the remains of a town. Shadows of faces leered out from broken windows and silent dogs barked behind front gates. At first, Molly thought she was imagining it, but the shapes became more distinct until Molly could make out the messy bun of a housewife staring at her from an empty door frame.

“Billy,” she said. “Do you see them?”

“I’ve been trying not to,” her cousin said. “I never believed in ghosts before, but…”

“Haha,” The last Vankraft laughed. “I forgot other members of the family would be able to see them. I’m sorry, it’s been so long.” He stopped walking and looked around at the angry faces. “This is the only curse passed from one VanKraft to another. When I’m in the dark I can see the faces of all the people our family has wronged. When I was younger I tried to meet their gaze.” He raised his lantern. The extended light turned the ghosts into vague outlines. “When I pass on, these shadows will haunt another Vankraft, even if they don’t have the name.” He turned back to the path in front of them. “The church isn’t much farther. But I warn you, the shadows are worst around the church.”

Molly stepped forward. “Just take us. Our future depends on it.”

“To save your future you will have to face our past.” Without another word, the last VanKraft walked into the darkness. With the light gone, the phantoms substantialized. Leering faces stared at them from either side of the path. Reaching hands passed through Molly’s hair leaving her cold. Billy and Molly ran to catch up with the last VanKraft. When they did, they stayed as close to the ring of light as they could.

As they passed the center of the old town, a steeple rose from among the trees. The phantasms wandered thickly in the streets. They no longer stared at the trio. The chill forms so tightly packed there was no way for Molly and Billy to avoid passing through them.

The church loomed high above them. A crowd of the shadows stood in front of the door.

"Are they holding axes?" Billy asked. Molly squinted. she could just about make out the curved shapes of ax heads mixed among the dim faces.

"Most of the people that lived in this town worked for the VanKraft logging company. There was an ax in every home if not a goose in every pot. Our family worked these people nearly to death and gave them almost nothing in return."

"Between these angry ghosts and ecological devastation, I think that our great-grand-father was right when he said the VanKrafts should get out of the logging business."

The last VanKraft lowered the lantern, "If my parents had heard me say this, I would have been disinherited for all that's worth. You're right, our family should have given up the business a long time ago. We should have given it up back when we killed John and Gloria's child."