"That smell," Jo groaned.
The wind pushed the coppery stink and the guy's death sludge right at us, so we sped our pace to get through it faster. Our feet slapped against the ground and sprayed a fine mist up past the tops of my boots and over our clasped hands. This wasn't exactly my first Carrie audition, but Jo made small disgusted sounds while Darby stared straight ahead with cool indifference.
The closer we drew to the graveyard, the tighter my insides coiled. Sagging, empty flagpoles jangled in the wind behind the bent and twisted gates. Blood painted the entire parking lot crimson and crawled bloody fingers underneath Dad's overturned jeep at the far end.
"Dad!" I yelled on the off chance he had found his way back to it. Even though I hated to do it, I released myself from Jo and Darby. "Stay here," I told them and sprinted toward Dad's jeep.