"Let's go, kids," he said, giving me a shove. He glanced up at the brightening sky. The sun was raising itself over the treetops.
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"Nice try," Mr. Dawes said to Josh. The smile faded quickly from his face.
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"I said let's go," Mr. Dawes snapped impatiently. He loosened his grip on my shoulder and took a menacing step toward Josh.
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Close up, he didn't look so young and handsome. His skin, I could see, was dry and peeling and hung loosely beneath his eyes.
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Mr. Dawes uttered a low cry. His eyes widened in surprise. Dazed, he reached a hand up to the hole where a few inches of gray skull poked through.
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Josh hesitated.
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"Run, Josh!" I cried.
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Josh glanced down at the worthless flashlight. Then he pulled his arm back and heaved the flashlight at Mr. Dawes' head.
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The flashlight hit its target with a sickening crack. It hit Mr. Dawes in the center of his forehead, splitting a large hole in the skin.
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But there was no need to tell him that. He was already zigzagging through the rows of graves, his head ducked low. I followed him, running as fast as I could.
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Leaning on the cool marble, we both peered around the sides of the monument. Mr. Dawes, a scowl on his face, was heading back toward the amphitheater, keeping in the shadows of the trees.
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Glancing back, I saw Mr. Dawes stagger after us, still holding his ripped forehead. He took several steps, then abruptly stopped, staring up at the sky.
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It's too bright for him, I realized. He has to stay in the shade.
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"He -- he's not chasing us," Josh whispered, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath and stifle his fear. "He's going back."
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Josh had ducked down behind a tall marble monument, old and slightly tilted, cracked down the middle. I slid down beside him, gasping for breath.
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"The sun is too bright for him," I said, holding onto the side of the monument. "He must be going to get Mom and Dad."
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"Shhh. Look!" Josh poked me hard on the shoulder, and pointed. "Who's that?"
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"That stupid flashlight," Josh cried.
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"Never mind that," I said, watching Mr. Dawes until he disappeared behind the big leaning tree. "What are we going to do now? I don't know --"
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Did they rise out of the graves?
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I followed his stare and saw several dark figures hurrying through the rows of tombstones. They seemed to have appeared from out of nowhere.
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Walking quickly, seeming to float over the green, sloping ground, they headed into the shadows. All were walking in silence, their eyes straight ahead. They didn't stop to greet one another. They strode purposefully toward the hidden amphitheater, as if they were being drawn there, as if they were puppets being pulled by hidden strings.
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The dark, moving forms made all the shadows ripple. It looked as if the trees, the gravestones, the entire cemetery had come to life, had started toward the hidden seats of the amphitheater.
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The kids from our house were moving quickly in twos and threes, following the other shadows, as silent and businesslike as everyone else.
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"Whoa. Look at them all!" Josh whispered, ducking his head back behind the marble monument.
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"There goes Karen," I whispered, pointing. "And George. And all the rest of them."
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We killed someone who was already dead.
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I didn't want to see them… killed.
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The thought made me stop. I reached out an arm and halted Josh.
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I didn't want to see them being held prisoner by Mr. Dawes and the others.
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"Come on," I said, taking Josh's hand and pulling him away from the monument. "We've got to find out."
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We watched the last of the dark figures float past the enormous leaning tree. The shadows stopped moving. The cemetery was still and silent. A solitary crow floated, high above in the clear blue, cloudless sky.
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It was a struggle to move. I felt as if I weighed five hundred pounds. The weight of my fear, I guess.
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Everyone was here except Ray, I thought.
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But at the same time, I didn't want to see.
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Because we killed Ray.
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I was desperate to see if Mom and Dad were there.
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Slowly, Josh and I edged our way toward the amphitheater, ducking behind gravestones, keeping low to the ground.
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"Do you think Mom and Dad are really down in that weird theater?" Josh asked, interrupting my morbid thoughts, his eyes on the moving shadows.
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"Me, too," I agreed.
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"Are Mom and Dad there?" Josh whispered. He started to poke his head around the side of the bent tree trunk, but I cautiously pulled him back.
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We were standing behind the leaning tree, hidden by its enormous clump of upraised roots. Beyond the tree, down in the theater below, I could hear the low murmur of voices.
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"Be careful," I whispered. "Don't let them see you. They're practically right beneath us."
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And then I saw them.
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"But I've got to know if Mom and Dad are really here," he whispered, his eyes frightened, pleading.
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We both leaned over the massive trunk. The bark felt smooth under my hands as I gazed into the deep shadows cast by the tree.
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Mom and Dad. They were tied up, back-to-back, standing in the center of the floor at the bottom of the amphitheater in front of everyone.
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They looked so uncomfortable, so terrified. Their arms were tied tightly down at their sides. Dad's face was bright red. Mom's hair was all messed up, hanging wildly down over her forehead, her head bowed.
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"Maybe we can save them," I whispered, backing away from the tree. "Maybe we can do something."
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Everyone except Josh and me.
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"Huh?" I was staring so hard at Mom and Dad, I guess I momentarily blanked out.
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"They're going to kill Mom and Dad," Josh whispered, grabbing my arm, squeezing it in fear. "They're going to make Mom and Dad just like them."
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I suddenly knew what we were going to do.
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Squinting into the darkness cast by the tree, I saw Mr. Dawes standing beside them along with another, older man. And I saw that the rows of long benches built into the ground were filled with people. Not a single empty space.
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"Then they'll come after us," I said, thinking out loud, staring through the shadows at my poor parents. Both of them had their heads bowed now as they stood before the silent crowd. Both of them were awaiting their fates.
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"What are we going to do?" Josh repeated urgently, still holding desperately to my arm. "We can't just stand here and --"
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Everyone in town must be here, I realized.
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It just came to me. I didn't even have to think hard.
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"What are we going to do?" Josh whispered.
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I knew we could do it. I don't know where my confidence came from. But I knew we could do it.
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"We're going to push this tree over," I whispered with so much confidence that I surprised myself. "We're going to push the tree over so the sunlight will fill the amphitheater."
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Josh let go of my arm. He stared at me eagerly.
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And I knew we had to do it fast.
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Peering over the top of the trunk again, struggling to see through the shadows, I could see that everyone in the theater had stood up. They were all starting to move forward, down toward Mom and Dad.
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"Come on, Josh," I whispered. "We'll take a running jump, and push the tree over. Come on!"
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Without another word, we both took several steps back.
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"Yes!" Josh cried immediately. "Look at this tree. It's practically down already. We can do it!"
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We just had to give the trunk a good, hard push, and the tree would topple right over. The roots were already almost entirely up out of the ground, after all.
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One hard push. That's all it would take. And the sunlight would pour into the theater. Beautiful, golden sunlight. Bright, bright sunlight.
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All four of us would be saved.
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The dead people would all crumble.
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"Come on, Josh," I whispered. "Ready?"
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He nodded, his face solemn, his eyes frightened.
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"Okay. Let's go!" I cried.
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And Mom and Dad would be saved.
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In a second, we hit the tree trunk and pushed with all of our strength, shoving it with our hands and then moving our shoulders into it, pushing… pushing… pushing… It didn't budge.
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We both ran forward, digging our sneakers into the ground, moving as fast as we could, our arms outstretched and ready.
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