The Toll

by Cherie Priest

If you were lucky, your car would disappear into the wasteland of rust and steel out back—“Six Flags over Tetanus,” as Daisy called it.

“You know, everything’s a ghost story, eventually.”

You know I put my faith in a shotgun, any day of the week and twice on Sunday—but every girl with an ounce of granny magic knows it’s true: Things from other worlds don’t like iron.”

“But some things are so awful that they don’t quit, just because you’ve killed them.”