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We head through the narrow opening in the short rock wall around the old graveyard, the overgrown landscape almost swallowing any sign of what’s buried underneath.
I flash the light around, seeing sporadic markers peeking out of the tall grass. “Yeah, it’s pretty awful.”
I shuffle through the brush, finding a row and holding up my light to the names.
Cool rain wets my face, and I gaze over at the wooded area to my left, dense and dark.
“Spread out,” I tell them. “I’ll take this section.” I point to Coral. “You sweep the bottom.” Then I nod to Calvin, gesturing to the hill above us. “You go over there.”
“What are we getting for this?” Coral grumbles.
I stand up straight and let my head fall back. “I can’t believe I have to pay friends.”
“Oh, you’ll get used to it,” Calvin points out. “Last week I had to pay Farrow gas money for a ride he was already making anyway.”
Hustlers.I cock my eyebrow, looking to Coral.
She crosses her arms over her chest. “I want season access to the raceway next summer.”
“To compete?”
“To watch, dipshit,” she retorts.
I shoot a glare at Calvin.
“A hundred-dollar gift card to Frosted,” he says.
I turn away. “Fine.”
We spread out, Calvin working through the headstones above and Coral below. There are tall monuments, groups of similar stones for husbands and wives, and once in a while, I step on one planted in the ground.
This cemetery feels like it should be bigger. Next to seaside towns, river towns are the next most settled areas. Weston has to be over a hundred years old. Maybe there’s another cemetery?
But Bastien said it was Esplanade Street.
I squint at a white marble marker. “Can you guys see the names okay?”
“Some of these markers are old,” Coral calls out.
I rise up, realizing. “Yeah, his won’t be.”
Conor only died twenty-two years ago. I can ignore the ones that look like they’re from the Prohibition.
“I got nothing!” Calvin shouts.
If we come up empty, then Bastien was mistaken. The twins, Conor and Deacon, are probably alive.
“Do people get buried here a lot?” I ask.
“No.” Coral moves to another row, flashing her light. “We don’t have the population anymore, and when someone does die, it’s often off to the crematory.”
It’s the same in the Falls. Mausoleums are more popular too. Whatever’s cheaper.
“Dylan?” Coral says.
I turn my head, seeing her staring at a block of stone in the middle of the last row.
I run over, hearing Calvin trail in behind me.
