The Light (Morpheus Road) (36 page)

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tombstones that were so worn with age, you couldn't read the inscriptions. Some were broken in two and repaired with cement. Others were so beaten down by years of sun, rain, and snow that they looked like white, gnarly bones reaching up out of the ground. Why were cemeteries made to look so creepy? I mean, yeah, it's where you bury dead people, but why do people make it so much worse by erecting sorrowful statues of winged angels and mausoleums right out of a horror movie? The fact that so many of the gravestones and statues were ancient and dirty and covered with moss only added to the eerie feel. There wasn't a whole lot of "celebrating life" going on in this place. It was more like: "Let's remind everybody that they're walking over buried dead people." Cemeteries should be a little more inviting, like a park. I mean, the residents didn't care one way or the other, but lots of people visited graves. You'd think they'd want to remember the person for who they were, not be reminded that they're stuck in a creep show. Forever. But that's just me.

I hadn't been to Mom's grave since the day of her funeral. I couldn't do it, and not because the place gave me the creeps. I didn't go because it made me sad. I had better ways to remember her than staring at a piece of marble with her name carved in it and thinking of her being under the dirt.

The part of the cemetery with the new graves wasn't anywhere near as creepy, but it was just as sad. The long line of cars that made up Cooper's funeral procession drove over a hill that held the older, spooky section and continued down the other side until we reached an area where the tombstones were new and the flowers were fresh. I guess there weren't a lot of people left to put flowers on graves that were two hundred years old.

Cooper's casket was already there. Somebody rolled out some fake grass around it to make it a little more attractive,

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and to cover the dirt that would soon fill the hole that Cooper would be lowered into. All the flowers from the church were there, along with several rows of folding chairs. Not everybody from the church showed up and that was just as well. I did a quick look around to see if maybe Ennis had come, but didn't see him.

Dad and I sat in the front row with the Foleys. The priest said some prayers that were all sorts of somber. It was torture. At least at the church they had talked about Cooper as an individual. Here the ceremony felt pretty generic, which made it all the more sad. I tried not to listen. I just wanted it to be over. Thankfully, it didn't last long. The priest made an announcement that everybody was invited back to the Foleys' house for some food. Not knowing what else to do, the crowd slowly dispersed.

Mr. and Mrs. Foley looked lost. They had to be directed to their limousine by a guy in a dark suit who I figured was the funeral home dude. (Why do they call funeral places "homes"? It's not like anybody's living there.) Sydney went up to her mom and gave her a big hug. I know this is a small consolation, but it was looking like this tragedy might actually have mended some fences. I sure hoped so. Mr. Foley nodded to Sydney as if agreeing to something. Sydney gave him a kiss on the cheek, then walked directly over to me.

"Ride back with me?" she asked.

I looked to Dad. He shrugged. "F-B-M," he said.

Sydney looked confused.

"That means 'fine by me,'" I said.

Sydney gave Dad a curious look.

"Sorry," Dad said with a shrug. "Habit."

"Odd habit," Sydney said.

"I'll see you guys back at the Foleys'," Dad said, and made his escape.

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"Don't you want to ride with your parents?" I asked Sydney.

"I drove myself. The whole ceremony of this thing makes it even worse."

I knew how she felt.

"Besides," she added, "if I'm riding in a limo, I want to be going someplace cool."

That made me laugh. There was more of Cooper in her than I had realized.

"Let's go for a walk," she said, and moved quickly away from the grave site. I followed without looking back. I wasn't about to stand over the casket and say good-bye. That was way too . . . final. Though going for a walk in a cemetery wasn't much more appealing.

"I wanted to talk to you alone," she said. "It's going to be crazy back at my house."

"Well, we're in the right place. To be alone, I mean."

I was happy to see that Sydney wasn't walking toward Mom's grave. I didn't want to go anywhere near there.

"How are you doing?" I asked.

"Okay," she said. "It's all a party now. A really strange party. I think once it's over, we're going to get slammed."

"That's exactly what's going to happen," I said. "I've been there."

Sydney gave me a sad smile. She knew.

I added, "But you're talking with your parents. That's something."

"Yeah, there's that," she said, keeping her eyes on the ground. "I'm gonna tell 'em about the tattoo."

"Ooh, risky."

"Yeah, but they should know what Cooper did for me."

I chuckled. "Careful. You're going to lose your reputation for being an ice witch."

"Is that what he called me?" she asked with exaggerated indignation.

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"That was one of the nicer things."

"Such a brat," she said, shaking her head. She wasn't angry at all.

We walked along in silence. I didn't mind it, in spite of the fact we were in the middle of a freakin' huge graveyard. After a while we found ourselves on the edge of the older part of the cemetery. We rounded an ancient mausoleum to see a small courtyard with a reflecting pool. There were marble benches built around the stone floor and urns filled with colorful, living flowers. It was set at the bottom of a hill that was dotted with graves. On top of the hill was a thick weeping willow tree.

"Now, this is more like it," I said. "If you gotta hang around this place for eternity, you might as well do it in style."

Sydney led me to a stone bench and we sat directly across the reflecting pool from the mausoleum.

"Have you thought about what you're going to tell people?" she asked.

"Only every waking moment."

"And?"

"And I still don't know."

Sydney kicked at the stone walkway. She seemed nervous.

"This is your call," she said. "Whatever you want to do is cool. But I think we should let it go."

I didn't say anything. I wanted her to finish.

"You said yourself that it might be over. If it is, the worst thing that can happen is we'll never know all that really happened. If it starts again, we'll have to deal, but if it's over, we might cause a lot of people grief by what we have to say."

"Maybe," I said.

"My parents are destroyed, Marsh. You of all people

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should understand that. I'm the only kid they've got left and we finally started to talk. If I tell them about illusions and evil spirits, how do you think they'll react?"

The sky grew darker. I looked up to see a large gray cloud drifting over the sun. It was the perfect ominous change, given our conversation.

"I want to believe it's over," I said. "But if it is, for the rest of my life I'm going to wonder why it happened, and if I had something to do with Cooper's death."

"I know," she said. "I feel the same way. But there's nothing we can do to bring him back."

I heard a far-off rumble. The wind picked up. Was a storm coming in?

"I hear you, Sydney, but I have to know. What if I could have prevented it from happening? We wouldn't be sitting here right now."

"Do you really want to know that?" she asked. "What would it change?"

The cloud moved on, but strangely the day had turned from sunny and bright to dark gray.

"It might stop it from happening again," I answered.

"Okay, sure. You're right. We should try to figure it out. All I'm saying is, I don't want to lay this on my parents. Not right now. Maybe in a few months, after--"

"What was that?" I asked. I heard something unnatural. Like a scraping sound.

Sydney shrugged.

"Listen," I said.

I heard it again. It sounded like a stick was being drawn across cement. It was faint but growing louder. Sydney heard it.

"Where's it coming from?" she asked.

"The wind's kicking up. It must be knocking some branches around."

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The sound stopped and we both relaxed.

I said, "Look, I don't know the right thing to do. I hear what you're saying about your parents and maybe now isn't the time to tell them. But at some point we're going to have to face--"

"There it is again," she said.

It was louder this time. The instant I realized where it was coming from, the hair stood up on the back of my neck. The electric feeling was back. Sydney looked to the mausoleum on the far side of the reflecting pool.

"Tell me it's not coming from in there," she said, her voice quivering.

The scraping got louder. It was joined by another sound. It was a dry shuffling that sounded as if someone was dragging their feet across the ground. Or through the mausoleum. The wind grew stronger. On top of the hill the weeping willow tree swayed violently. Sydney slid closer to me. The scraping and shuffling grew louder, as if whatever was making the sound was coming closer to the door of the mausoleum. From the inside.

"Is this real?" she said in a hoarse whisper.

Before I could answer, the sound stopped. All sound. Everything. The scraping. The shuffling. The wind. The rumble. An impossible void had descended on the cemetery. The only sound was a steady
drip . . . drip . . . drip
from the pool in front of us. At least I thought it was from the pool.

A moment passed. Two moments. I could hear Sydney swallow--that's how quiet it had become. She squeezed my hand.

"It's not over, is it?"

Boom!
The double doors of the mausoleum blew open, tearing them from their hinges and throwing them across the courtyard. All sound returned. A howling wind blew from the dark crypt. It smelled old. And dead.

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"Out of here!" I yelled, and pulled Sydney to her feet.

We jumped off the bench and turned toward the hill. The hill with the weeping willow. We both looked up to see we weren't alone anymore. Standing beneath the swaying tree . . . was Gravedigger.

The nightmare wasn't over.

It had barely begun.

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Chapter 23

"My car," Sydney said breathlessly as we ran together, dodging our way past ancient graves.

The sky had become impossibly dark, making it look more like night than day. There was no rain, but the swirling wind made it seem as if we were in the middle of a storm. Or would be soon. We ran around the base of the hill, trying to move fast and not trip on a gnarled root or a sharp stone hidden by long grass.

"Is he coming?" Sydney asked.

"Don't know. Don't care. Don't want to be here."

We rounded the hill and got a view of the new section of the cemetery below us. Sitting on the road by itself, not far from Cooper's already covered-over grave, was Sydney's Beetle. Every last person from the funeral was long gone. People didn't hang out in cemeteries after the show was over. I wished
we
hadn't. The car was a few hundred

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yards away. Still, it was in sight. The only thing that stood between us and our escape was a sea of tombstones, statues', and mausoleums.

"Keep moving," I said, and we began winding our way across the grass and the graves.

We had only gone a few steps when the ground shuddered.

"Did you feel that?" Sydney called while still running.

"Earthquake?" I replied. I'd never been in an earthquake, but it was the only thing I could think of. Another jolt hit that was so strong, I was nearly thrown off my feet. I stumbled toward Sydney and she caught me before I went down.

"Don't stop!" I commanded.

We tried to run, but the ground was shaking so violently, it made it impossible to move. Sydney and I held on to each other and dropped to our knees.

"Gravedigger must be doing this," I said. "They don't have earthquakes around here."

"So it's an illusion," Sydney shot back.

We were both nearly knocked down by another strong jolt.

"A really good illusion," she added.

There was a cracking sound, like rocks grinding together.

"Look!" Sydney shouted.

She was pointing to a large mausoleum about five yards from us. A jagged crack made its way up the cement wall, like an egg breaking in two. The crack ran up toward the marble roof. When it hit, a section of the wall fell away, revealing two wooden coffins inside. The rumbling knocked them off their shelves and they tumbled out.

Sydney screamed.

I would have too, but I was too horrified to open my mouth. We both turned away before seeing what happened when the coffins hit the ground.