Page 65 of Stay Buried

Malcolm continued moving toward the back of the cemetery, shining his light on the stones. “I don’t see Frankie O’Massey’s stone. No O’Masseys at all so far.”

Ashley stayed where she was, staring at the stones of her great-grandparents, her head whirling with all the things Gram had kept from her, all the things she should have asked her mother and didn’t.

“Ash, come over here. You’ve gotta see this!”

Dear God, what had he found? Why did he keep getting closer to those woods?

She imagined going back there, Malcolm jumping out from behind a headstone just for fun to see how loud she’d scream.

Then she imagined something else jumping out at both of them. A life-sized version of the terrible little knackerman doll.

“What is it?” She tried to keep her voice level, totally calm.

“I’m not sure.” He was all the way at the edge of the cemetery, where the woods began. He bent down and she could hardly see him. “It’s a grave, but with just a plain stone marking it. But there’s all thisstuff.”

She didn’t like that she couldn’t really see him, so she willed her feet to move closer.

“Stuff?” Ashley used her phone’s flashlight as she picked her way carefully between the rows of stones to where her brother was crouched. “What kind of stuff?”

“Flowers. Candy. There’s even a bottle of rum here!”

Relief poured through her. It was not a sacrificed animal, dead body, or pentagram burned into the earth. It was just some offerings family members had left for a loved one who’d passed. She’d seen it in other cemeteries. Not so strange at all.

Ashley got to Malcolm, shone the light from her phone on theplain rectangular upright stone that marked the grave. It was smooth and worn, made from dark granite. And without a single mark etched into it. Beneath the stone were uncountable gifts: dried and fresh flowers, coins, cigarettes, a stained china cup of coffee, a bottle of liquor. Folded neatly on the top was a piece of pink paper.

“What’s this?” Ashley said, reaching for the paper, unfolding it. It was a note written in neat, careful cursive. She read it out loud:

I am so sorry for what happened last night.

Sorry that I didn’t believe.

But I believe now.

Please don’t punish my family for what I did.

I have something that’s yours. I can give it back to you.

Please don’t be mad.

Sincerely,

Mini Fitzpatrick

P.S. I know a secret about you. A secret no one else has figured out. Can you guess what it is?

Another stick cracked in the woods just in front of them. Ash looked in time to see movement.

“Who’s there?” Ashley called, voice strangled-sounding, as she pointed the weak light of her phone at the trees.

She saw a glint of white.

The pale skull of a horse, dark hollow eyes watching?

She held back a scream.

But no, it was only a pale face ducking back out of sight behind a large tree trunk.

“I see you!” Ashley called out. “I know you’re there!”