"Come on, Fitz, hurry up!" Em Matte called over her shoulder as she ran up the steps of the abandoned Carter house. The wind ruffled up her short, black hair that, combined with her dirt-smeared face, gave her a wild look.

The afternoon light barely pierced through the overgrowth of the forest that had swallowed the ruin, and it cast eerie shadows over the once white wooden boards of the house. It had been a beautiful place in its younger days, with its high arched windows and gingerbread work under the eves.

"I don't know, Em," Fitz said, "Mama said she'd ground me for a year if I went back in there again." He was a foot taller than his spiky-haired neighbor, even though they were the same age.

"Well, stay out here like a mama's boy then. I'm gonna find ol' Carter's gold." She stuck her tongue out and pushed up a couple of loose boards, climbing through an empty window frame.

"Mama says if there were any money folks would have found it a long time ago," he called after her.

"Mama says. Mama says." Em rolled her eyes as she poked her head back out the open window and gestured for him to follow her. "Honestly, Fitz, do you ever even listen to yourself? Where's your sense of adventure?"

"I think you have enough for the two of us," he said with a groan as he followed her into the dusky house. "Do you think there are ghosts in here?"

"If there are, I sure hope we find them," Em said as she pulled a flashlight from her pocket and flicked it on. The dust motes danced in front of them, almost blinding the children for a moment. "If I were old man Carter, where would I hide my gold?"

"In the bank, if you had any sense," Fitz muttered under his breath.

Em ignored him, yanking open a stubborn door under the stairs. A rat ran out, and both kids jumped back, gasping.

"I don't see why you're in a hurry to find ghosts if a little, old rat's going to scare you senseless," Fitz said, watching the rodent run down through a hole in the wooden floorboards.

"Pfft, it startled me is all," Em said, pulling herself up a bit straighter and peering into the closet expectantly. "A real live ghost would be a different matter altogether. I mean, a ghost could talk, and maybe it would tell us where the gold was."

"You know if we do find gold, we have to turn it over to the city anyway, maybe even to the state. I read about treasure hunters, and they never get to keep the bounty if there's historical significance to it," Fitz said as he pulled a spider web out of his shaggy, auburn hair.

Em looked at him as though he'd just said the stupidest thing she'd ever heard. "You know what's the matter with you? You have no imagination; none whatsoever. Honestly, how does a person live to be twelve years old with no imagination? It's like walking around without a brain."

"There was a man who did that, you know?" he said.

"Who did what?" Em asked as she bent down, investigating the underneath of a rotting ottoman.

"Lived without a brain, and he didn't know it either. He could walk and drive and had a job and kids and everything. I read about it a few months ago. A medical marvel, that's what he was; lived all his life without a brain and didn't even know it until he got a bad headache."

"That explains some people we know," Em muttered as she walked around a rather large hole in the floor. "Are you going to help me look or just give me the latest in medical marvels?"

With a sigh, Fitz walked closer to her, picking up a painting that was lying on its side against the wall. There was a sudden movement and hiss, and before Fitz even had the time to react, Em had shoved him out the way, the copperhead latching to her left calf.

Instinctively, she grabbed around the back of its head, screaming in pain as she tore it off her flesh. Pushing its head into the wood floor, she smashed its skull with her flashlight. Fitz watched, frozen in fear and shock until she threw the dead snake to the other side of the room and staggered up, blood dripping off her hand and the flashlight.

"I think I need to get to a doctor," she said, her head beginning to spin. She grabbed onto his shoulder as she headed towards the door, trying to keep the weight off her left leg.

"Wait," he said, sitting her on the porch, looking around for other wild animals as he pulled at the bottom of his t-shirt. Finding it didn't tear, he pulled it off, tying it around her leg at the thigh as tight as he could. "When you have a snakebite, you're supposed to stay still. Walking back home will make the venom spread quicker. You stay here, and I'll be right back."

Em watched him running through the woods until he disappeared down a ravine. The trees seemed to be getting closer to her, their branches bending and weaving into each other as fog rose up from their roots. She closed her eyes tightly, opening them again, and the trees were normal. But closing her eyes felt so good. It felt like there were hundred-pound weights on both her eyelids, and slowly, they closed again as warmth spread over her like the waves in the Gulf of Mexico.