Robert overtook and passed Tandry on their way down the hill. Their desperate run took them through the main gate of the cemetery; it’s rusted expanse open from their earlier entrance. Tandry didn’t look back until they had finally arrived at his car. The sleek black Bentley lay nestled between two dark elms, nearly invisible in the darkness.
Tandry arrived mere steps behind Robert, both of them breathing heavily from the exertion. Tandry bent double with one hand resting on the hood of the car. As he tried to catch his breath he scanned the dark horizon behind them. Where was the man Cale had seen? And—more importantly—where had Cale run off to himself? The black night yielded no answers to Tandry’s inquisitive eyes.
Robert retched on the other side of the car. “The dead body or the run?” Robert grunted in answer. Tandry shook his head and laughed quietly. He opened the trunk of the car and threw his pack in. “Get in.” Was all he told Robert.
The two sat and attempted to calm themselves for a moment. Their eyes glittered with ecstasy and fear; their chests still rose and fell excitedly. Tandry sat in the driver’s seat and lounged for a moment before speaking. “Do you think whoever Cale saw took off after him too?” Robert began to answer but was cut off by an unmistakable scream. Cale.
They both leapt out of the car and slammed the doors behind them. They threw silence and stealth to the wind as they called out their friends name and began the ascent back towards the open grave. All was eerily silent. Even the wind had seemed to stop.
The two stopped running and looked about. Tandry sought into the shadows, hoping to catch whoever—or whatever—he felt was watching him. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end and his eyes were white with fear.
Something was wrong.