Chapter 4

Before the darkness swallowed him up again, the man spoke. “Who died?”

“You mean other than the guy you shot?” Inwardly, he winced as soon as the words slipped out. Yeah, that’s smart. Use sarcasm on the crazy man with the gun.

The sniper seemed unfazed. “Whose funeral was it?”

What did it matter? “My father’s.”

The sadness deepened in the man’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.”

“Oh. Was he sick?”

“No. Just an asshole.”

Distant shouting made both of them jerk. The cops had arrived.

“Don’t trust what you see,” the man said behind him. When Calvin looked back, he was already melting into the darkness. “And make sure you see what you trust.”

Then the night devoured him whole.2

By the time the cops finished their questions, Calvin was starving. Everybody else had long deserted the cemetery, disappearing as soon as they were given the go-ahead from whatever policeman was interrogating them. Even the minister was gone.