Page 72 of No Quarter

“Me too,” he said. “I thought for sure we were going to find Saldana here. Maybe he’s long gone.”

“He could be at the nursing home where his grandmother died or at the old house where she used to live,” Valerie said. “But we still have quite a lot of ground to cover here before I’m ready to give up.”

They continued walking through the graveyard, scanning every headstone and mausoleum for any sign of Saldana. Even though they had been relieved to find that statue instead of a living person, Valerie knew that the hunt was far from over.

As they walked farther into the graveyard, Valerie sensed a strange energy in the air. She could feel something watching them from the shadows, following their every move. But just as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared again.

She looked over her shoulder and thought she saw someone standing over one of the gravestones, but a flick of her flashlight exposed nothing but the blackness of the night.

Then, nearby, Valerie heard something.

“I heard that,” Doctor Whitmore said in a frightened voice.

“Stay here,” said Valerie.

She walked to the side where the noise had come from. It had been the subtlest of sounds, but a distinct one. The sound of metal on metal, clinking together.

Valerie knew she had to be patient. To wait for Saldana to make another mistake.

Just one more movement, Saldana,she thought as a night breeze chilled all around.

Then, in reply to the breeze, the same subtle clinking sound arrived. It was very, very close. Tightening her grip on her gun, Valerie walked to a small collection of tombstones surrounding an old vault, one with a large cross on top. There was something that drew Valerie to it. As if her subconscious mind had picked up the slightest movement coming from its open doorway.

Yes, she thought, taking a breath, and approaching until she was only inches from the gaping maw of the tomb. She felt someone staring back at her from the deep shadow of it. She reached out with the barrel of her gun.

“Hey! Don’t shoot!” a man said in a broad accent, stepping out of the tomb with his hands up. “Please!”

Valerie looked at him in disappointment. She saw that he had a tool belt around his waist. “Great, the caretaker.”

“Please don’t kill me,” he pleaded.

“I’m FBI,” she said with a sigh. “Have you seen anyone around here other than us?”

“No,” the man said, relieved and lowering his hands. “I’ve been doing some maintenance on this tomb.”

“At night?”

“You try and keep this place running during the day,” he said. “This tomb door fell off in the bad weather, and I just need to get it sealed up.”

“It’ll need to wait,” Valerie said. “There’s a dangerous criminal somewhere nearby, so I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

His face grew white. “You don’t have to ask me twice!”

He picked up his tools from inside the tomb and ran off down toward the gates.

Valerie sighed, frustrated, and then moved back along to see Doctor Whitmore.

“Any luck?” he asked.

“No, just the caretaker,” Valerie said. “Let’s keep moving.”

And they did, cautiously but with purpose.

Entering another overgrown area of trees and bushes, they came to the edge of a large clearing in the middle of the graveyard. The clearing was long and vacant, with no headstones or mausoleums. The moonlight sparkled on the dew-covered grass.

“I wish we could just find the grandmother’s grave,” the doctor said. “I’d be much happier once we’re done here.”

Valerie took a step forward and then heard a dull thud coming from nearby. And then another.

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