Boyd The morning was cold.The sun hid behind a bank of dark clouds, and Brian felt certain there’d be rain, regardless of the forecast.He leaned against his car, smoked the last of his cigar, and saw Reverend Joe. The Rev was in the lead with Luke and Jim a few steps behind. Luke used a white, red-tipped cane with ease while he kept his free hand on Jim’s shoulder. The teen looked completely comfortable with his grandfather, and for a moment, Brian wondered if his own grandfather lurked around his grave.Brian had loved the man dearly.He pushed the thought away and looked, instead, at the Central Cemetery in Rye. Inside, among all the other graves, they would find Mr. Jonathan Boyd’s. At first glance, it seemed as though the job would be an easy one.But in the corners of his eyes, Brian caught movement. The shadowy and hazy movement of the dead.There were plenty of people buried in Central who either didn’t know they were dead or just didn’t care. Brian wasn’t looking forward to it.Not at all.“Good morning,”
