After fifteen minutes, he finished checking every grave in the back for fresh sod or upturned soil. In the distance, Gem called for Raven, and hearing her name shouted into the void with no reply splintered his heart.
“I can’t pick up anything,” Claude huffed before collapsing in a heap by a headstone. “Someone urinated on a statue though.”
Gem dawdled toward them, her eyes wide and arms outstretched. “This place gives me the heebie-jeebies. I can’t see a thing! Where’s Wyatt? I thought he was getting a flashlight.”
“He probably passed out in the van,” Claude grumbled. “My head is spinning. Everything’s spinning.”
Before either Claude or Gem heard anything, Christian picked up the sound of an electric vehicle. But the noise was quickly drowned out by keyboard synthesizers that erased the silence.
Claude stood and squinted at the fast-approaching vehicle. “Is he playing ‘The Final Countdown’ in a cemetery?”
A golf cart weaved around headstones and trampled the plaques on the ground. Wyatt not only had headlights mounted to the vehicle but flashlights taped to the bars that held up the roof.
As soon as the lyrics to the eighties song kicked in, he moved in a snakelike motion toward them. After another reckless minute, he clipped a bench and lost control. Wyatt flew out of the vehicle and rolled across the grass.
“Now that’s a bloody shame,” Christian said with derision.
The golf cart rolled toward them and slowed to a stop.
Wyatt sprang to his feet and wiped the grass from his pants. “I didn’t pick up any vibes in the front. I searched every plot, but they haven’t buried anyone recently.”
Gem put her hands on her hips. “Wyatt Blessing, are you trying to get us arrested?”
Wyatt swaggered up to the cart. “Music and flashing lights distract the dead. If specters are hanging around a cemetery, it means they like the peace and quiet.”
When the chorus kicked in again, Christian approached the vehicle and smashed the radio. “If she’s yelling for help, I won’t be able to hear a fecking thing, you numpty.”
Gem cupped her arms and shivered. “Did you feel that?”
Wyatt leaned against the cart. “It’s not cold, buttercup. But I’m more than happy to lend you my body for heat.”
She reached behind her head and rubbed the back of her neck. “That’s an energy flare. I knew it! But it’s far away.” Gem turned in a circle. “Maybe that direction? Did anyone check the middle?”
“Hop on the Wyatt express.” Wyatt got behind the wheel, and Gem sat next to him. There was a bench on the back that Claude took.
“Don’t you want a ride?” Wyatt offered.
“I’d rather walk.”
“Suit yourself.” With glazed eyes, Wyatt saluted Christian and hit the gas pedal. As soon as he did, Claude flew off the back seat and did a face-plant in the grass.
Christian helped him up. “Let me impart some wisdom on you that’ll save you a lot of grief: never entrust your life to a wanker.” He clapped Claude’s back. “There’s a good lad.”
The crickets were chirping, but they had nothing on Wyatt singing the lyrics to the eighties song, which no longer played on the broken radio. There was no wind or nearby traffic, no airplanes overhead or people. It was one reason Christian kept his little concrete shack in the woods. He had always appreciated a quiet retreat—one far removed from the noisy pollution of city life.
Wyatt put distance between them, his lights shining on trees, headstones, and a skittish raccoon. As Christian shadow walked behind them, he got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Wyatt’s cart turned right and headed toward a mausoleum.
“No, not that way.Thatway,” Gem argued. “Will you let me drive? You’re going to get us killed!”
“We’re in the right place, buttercup.”
When Christian passed the mausoleum, he recognized the structure and realized exactly where they were. This was the cemetery where Raven’s mother was buried. All graveyards looked alike to him, and on his previous visit, he’d hidden himself on top of Raven’s vehicle, ignoring the route. It had also been in the day, and shadows made everything look different.
He searched for familiar markers, trying to retrace his steps. Wyatt’s headlights briefly blinded him before he steered away erratically. After walking in circles, Christian stopped and turned, looking around. It all looked the same. He could read the names on the headstones until he found Raven’s mother, but not without going up to each and every one. Had she come here to talk to her mother? He imagined her passed out on top of the grave. It hadn’t even occurred to him that she might come here, but he sometimes forgot how young Raven was. It often took many decades for a young immortal to let go of their old life and all the people tied to it.
Gem launched out of the cart while it was still moving and landed on her rear. She angrily dusted off her leggings before Claude helped her up. “I lost it, Christian. I can’t feel the flare anymore. Maybe it was someone by the road.”
Claude pulled in a deep breath. “I smell freshly turned soil.” He hurried forward, Christian and Gem jogging behind him.
