"Hurry up", Rudy snapped. Rudy made everything look easy and seem reasonable-from climbing a ten-foot fence to an array of criminal activities. Mark wondered if his brother's influence would land him in juvie too, one day. Like maybe tomorrow.
"About time", said Rudy as Mark dropped from the fence, nearly spraining an ankle. "Here, take the shovel. I'll find the grave".
"You mean you have one in mind?"
"I do my research", Rudy said, like he was talking about a school project.
He started off into the graveyard, under a twisted canopy of trees. Ground fog swirled around him, like a ghostly sea. Mark took a deep breath and hurried after him, not really wanting to, but not wanting to be alone, either.
Up ahead, Rudy's flashlight beam bounced over the grounds of the Cemetery, picking out marble headstones and vases stuffed with wilting flowers. Shadows danced with every step, like dark, scurring animals. Mark heard the howl of a coyote-at least, he hoped it was a coyote- and smelled the sweet warmth of fresh turned Earth.
Mark tried to catch up with his brother, ignoring the gloom pressing in around him like cold tentacles in the mist. The graveyard was alive with unsettling sounds: the chirping of bugs, the hissing breath of the wind between headstones, the mysterious scratch, scratch of something unseen, like undead fingers, scrabbing upwarf through raw dirt.... Mark shook his head, furious at his own imagination.
"Wait up, Rudy!" But his brother wasn't listening.
Rudy made a sharp turn, then came to a dead stop.
"We're here", he said.
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Next part coming on Wednesday. Please vote and follow me. I follow back.
