popped out as Jack fol owed. Now he
welcomed it.
Weezy stopped where Eddie had broken through the crust and pointed to the edges.
“See this? I was so mad at him I didn’t notice before, but it’s real y weird.”
Jack saw what she meant. Eddie had shattered a four-or five-foot length of the crust into about a zil ion irregular pieces, but the edges of the broken
area—the near, the far, and both sides near ground level—were perfectly straight. Could have been cut by an electric saw.
The rain had done a number on the soft sand within the mound, washing it out and fanning it around the break like a cloud. Jack didn’t know what kind
of cloud it resembled, but he was sure Weezy could tel him.
He kicked over a random shard of crust and spotted something shiny and black beneath it. Before he could react, Weezy was on her knees and al over
it.
“What’s
She started scooping away the surrounding wet sand, gradual y revealing a black cube the size of a softbal . Gently, cautiously, she wriggled her fingers
beneath it.
“Why don’t you just pick it up?” Jack said.
“Because it may be attached to something.” Her fingers must have met on its underside because suddenly she lifted it free and held it up. “Heavy!”
She laid it on the ground between them and began to examine it, tilting it a little this way and a little that.
Jack knelt opposite her. “What do you think it is?”
She shook her head, looking as baffled as he felt. “I don’t know. Some kind of stone—onyx, maybe? It’s got no writing on it, but I get this feeling it’s …
old.” She looked up at him. “Know what I mean?”
Jack couldn’t say why, but he knew exactly what she meant.
“Yeah. Very old.”
“And where there’s one there’s probably others.” Her eyes were wide with wonder and excitement. “Help me, Jack?”
He laughed. “Try and stop me.”
He wanted one of those cubes for himself.
So they started digging—not easy in the wet sand. But they kept coming up empty. Frustration was beginning to nibble at Jack when his fingertips
scraped against a hard surface.
“Got something!”
He dug his fingers down on each side of whatever it was and pul ed it up.
And found himself looking into the empty eye sockets of a rotting human head.
He stared in mute, openmouthed, grossed-out shock. Beside him, Weezy screamed.
Jack spotted a sheriff’s patrol car rol ing down Quakerton Road, Johnson’s main drag, just as he, Weezy, and Eddie raced into town. Johnson—often
confused with Johnson Place, fifteen miles northeast of here—wasn’t big enough to rate its own police force, so the Burlington County Sheriff’s
Department patrol ed the streets.
Trouble was, the cruiser was moving away.
Jack threw extra muscle behind the pedals and started waving an arm and yel ing as he chased it. Whoever was behind the wheel must have spotted
him because the cruiser pul ed over and waited.
He skidded to a halt beside the driver’s window and saw Deputy Tim Davis behind the wheel. Jack knew him from when Davis used to date his sister,
Kate, back in their high school days. He looked up at Jack through super-dark aviator sunglasses.
“Hey, Jack. How’s that beautiful sister of yours?”
Jack had pedaled so hard on his way back from the mound that it took him a second or two to catch enough breath to reply.
“Greatwefoundadeadbodyinthepines!”
