Chapter 2
| The Story | The Authors |
|---|---|
| Officer Hickey paused with a flaming habenero half way to his
bearded maw when he saw Geraldine and Adam take off back into the
cemetary. Wiping his burning lips on the cuff of his uniform he sighed
deeply and grabbed at the police radio with hairy sausage like fingers.
"Code blue Sector seven." he huffed heavily into the mike. "Roger, that" Now some fun, he thought as he pulled out his heavy flashlight from his utility belt. As he strolled into the cemetary he whistled a spritely tune. And as if all the other stuff tonight hadn't been enough excitement. | |
| He took up his gun and aimed... Not that he meant to shoot; he wasn't an evil man. Just a bit ticked off. Having been burnt, that was understandable. A little to the left... just graze Adam... give him something to think about... | |
| And, think he did. Because he knew deep in his heart that six years ago he made a deal with the local mob boss. His end of the deal was due. Salvitor would not be so forgiven, and niether would Juan Luca, not to mention Vince the Knife, or Tony the Big Toe. So he did what he had to do. | |
|
Oh the scenarios Officer Hickey played in his mind as he sauntered
into the depths of the boneyard in search of the errant teens. If
things had worked out differently he could've been on the other side
of the law, a tried and true mafioso. It certainly would be
more exciting than his life up to now. At least until what was going
down tonight. But of course, no one could know about that. Being
a small town new England cop was so fucking boring. Graffiti, vandalism,
truancy and the occasional drunk or speeding driver were about all
he had to get him out of bed in the morning, and sometimes not even
that much. Now as Summer waned into Fall he wouldn't even have a
weekend backyard kegger or two to bust up. Once tonight's activities
were concluded it'd be a life of too much coffee and clock watching
for a long while. But Assistant Principal Hadley was right. There
were some things going on that not everyone should know about. No matter what that took. | |
| He Followed Geraldine And Adam Into The Old Section Of The Graveyard, Making No Sound Even On The Crunchy Leaves As He'd Learned To Do When He Was A Boy In The Boy Scouts. He Saw Them Open The Door Of A Crypt Set Into The Hillside And Enter It. He Heard The Scrapy Sound Of Metal On Metal. | |
|
....Meawhile, at the opposite end of the cemetery, down along the banks of Black Creek, Assistant Principal Hadley was overseeing a most unnnatural nocturnal excavation. | |
|
He lit yet another Lucky and tried to hold the flashlight a steady
as he could with shakey hands. Listening intently to the shuuk
of the shovel in the soft earth along the banks. They'd been
at it for nearly an hour now and the hole was already four feet deep.
It had to be the right spot though. Almost three hundred and fifty
years changes a lot of landscape but this place fit the description
to a "t". "It lies buryd in thee deepe earthe nie ov
thee Blaque Streeme downe thee dirte thee lengt ov one mair's knee.
Walk ye two hunderd places du east of Lars Ginchels mortal remanes
to thee Blaque Streeme and mark ye a spot where Balde Mountane lines
with thee steeple and a great stone is cloven by God. Digge ye there
if ye must. Maye Gods benevolant Mercy falle upon ye he'd done the research himself. He'd studied the maps and measured the lengths. Plotted the old town from contemporary accounts. He'd done the surveying. Mapped the coordinates of where the first church in Tollisville had stood. It had to be here. | |
| His lust for riches has ever been recalcitrant. This quest would finally quench his eternal thirst. It has been a long time since the Melbourne incident had taken his wife. In some sick way he felt this would set things right. | |
| Well, maybe not totaly right, but it would at least make it easier to replace her. He watched Joe the school janitor heave another shovelfull of dark earth out of the hole. His silence was guaranteed. |
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