The group made a run for the shack. Morgan was especially eager to get there, not just for shelter, but to be back at her home.
When they reached the spot, they realized “home” might not be home after all.
“Where is it?!” Morgan cried out, nearly sobbing from her frustrated homesickness. Beth grasped her by the shoulders, comforting her as best she could.
In place of the shack stood an ancient graveyard, its iron spire fence overrun with weeds and ivy. Every headstone and slab was weather-beaten and ill-kept; a few had even fallen over. The smell of freshly-turned earth lingered around the perimeter. The place seemed less like a final resting place for the dead, and more like a chilling reminder for the living. Even in the daylight, it was extremely foreboding.
Becky took a tentative step forward. “Okay, wrong world.”
“That’s not the half of it,” Nathan said, pointing toward the middle of the cemetery. “Look!”
Everyone gazed to where he’d indicated. They saw…
Fri Jul 19 04:46:49 2002