When Ray and Marty, partners for twelve years, decide to get away from San Francisco for a week, they choose a small town across the bay. Only upon arriving at their hotel do they discover a cemetery next door. Ray is concerned at the proximity but Marty, who has experience with ghosts, assures him the residents are the quietest neighbors.<br><br>But when the two men get drunk and have sex in the cemetery one night, things change. Mishaps occur at the hotel: an elevator gets stuck, a fire alarm sounds in the middle of the night, a door refuses to open. Marty soon realizes someone in the cemetery was disturbed by their sexual antics and is punishing them.<br>How can they escape the ghost’s wrath? More importantly, how can Marty get the skeptical Ray to even admit it’s a ghost after them?

The Cemetery Next Door

I couldn’t scream like Ray had. I felt not lips, just the awful pull, like a vacuum cleaner fixed to me. My tongue stiffened and I feared it would be devoured. The pull then began to reach inside me, taking what breath I had and making my heart thump like a fist slamming around inside my chest.


Justin began to circle in place, as if the kiss propelled us, then suddenly he disengaged. My head fell back in recoil and air rushed into me, mouth open, starved lungs working again. But I didn’t scream. I’d done that silently.


Justin let go of one hand, and I spun enough to look at Ray, who sat clutching a pillow, mouth open in his own silent scream. As I tried to gain strength from the other living person in the room, I found myself starting to spin. Looking at the hand Justin still held, I saw it turning like the joint could do a three-sixty. Soon the spin became forceful, as if I was being wound up. But what for?


“Stop!” I cried, relieved to find my voice. “Stop it!”


Chapter 17