TRICK OR TREAT?

After much deliberation, we decided to make our move. We would spend the whole night, or much of it, carrying out our mission at the graveyard. Upon arrival, everything was as we had anticipated. We quickly got down to work and made good time. The raid went much quicker and smoother than we could have predicted, and so as we approached the seventh grave, I finally began to relax. 

We had only recently been released from jail after completing the eighteen-month-long sentences we’d both received for robbing a store at gun-point. It was the seventh store we robbed that night, our informant had told us earlier in the day that the store-keeper didn’t keep weapons of any sort, so we decided to save it for last and deal with the tougher jobs first. The successes we’d achieved at the other stores bolstered our confidence to the point that we decided to play it cool and go in with our guns unloaded. We held them just for show.

We entered the store with our heads held high, but it would only take a few seconds for us to realize we were in over our heads. The store-keeper pulled out a shotgun from under the till and began to fire in our direction as soon as he spotted our guns. We both took cover behind some shelves and waited for him to run out of ammunition. That would be our cue to exit the store. The cue never came. Instead, his wife exited the store from the door at the back and came around to the front of the store. She inspected my car whilst holding a semi-automatic rifle at the ready, and once she was sure there was no one waiting there for us, she used the vehicle as a shield and they kept us trapped there till the cops arrived.

It was our third stint in jail. The first time, we did time for burglary; the second time, we did time for breaking and entry. After serving the third jail sentence, Ade and I decided we would no longer carry out any robberies, we would either find legitimate work or find “jobs” with lower risk of getting caught and thrown behind bars, or at least a higher "return on risk borne".

I’d already taken up work as a gardener at my uncle’s firm when Ade came to me with one such job. I couldn’t believe my ears when he suggested we raid graves and take whatever valuables we could lay our hands on. What valuables would we find inside graves other than worn out suits and gowns which reeked of death? And what would we do with them? Put them up for sale online? Auction them? I thought the idea was stupid, but when Ade explained it to me, I appreciated the potential in his newfound idea.

He had been surfing the internet, looking for work, when he reestablished contact with a long lost friend and partner in crime. He told his friend on everything that had transpired since they parted ways and asked him to keep an eye out for any job openings. Since Ade was eager to find work and make money, the friend shared an idea he had for a job that was sure to bring a large payday. 

Ade’s friend lived in a very affluent county whose residents had a different take on inheritance and the transfer of wealth from one generation to the next. They believed that the living could inherit everything the dead left behind except the valuables they were most attached to. So if it was jewelry, the dead would be buried with the jewelry they loved the most so they could use it in the next life. If it was a vehicle, they had the vehicle crushed into tiny pellets and buried the dead with those pellets so they could be reassembled into the same vehicle in the next life. And if it was money, they withdrew all the money in the bank accounts the dead owned and buried them with it so they could spend, invest, or save it in the next life. And so on.

Ade’s friend told him he’d been thinking of paying the county graveyard a “visit” but he had never been able to pick up the courage to do it. He told Ade he knew some guys who had been living large off what they made from raiding a single grave. They had made so much from the raid that they went into retirement in their early-twenties. The prospect of an early retirement was too alluring for both of us to resist, so we set out for the county.

We spent three days in the county, scouting the graveyard and devising a plan for the mission. During that time, we chose entry and exit points, and we chose which graves we would hit. There was only so many graves we could hit before sunrise, so we did some research and chose the graves of those who were from the most affluent families in the county. We agreed that all three of us would do the job together, but Ade’s friend pulled out at the last minute. For some reason, he was too scared to go ahead with it. Ade and I had travelled too far to back out, so we decided to go ahead with it on our own and skip town before his friend could demand a share of the booty.

***

By the time we covered up the sixth grave, the duffel bag I’d brought along to store the booty was almost full. We’d found all sorts of valuables in the six graves we’d explored at that point. Jewelry in the form of rings, solid-gold wristwatches and rings, silver monocles, pearl necklaces and bracelets, huge wads of cash, bond certificates, the deed to a hundred acre farm in a choice location in that region of the country, and so much more. The proceeds from the job would be humongous.

“This is enough to guarantee us a permanent retirement.” Ade pointed out as we made our way to the seventh and final grave. “This has to be the best and easiest job we have ever done.” He noted. I nodded in agreement.

“To think we spent all that time, took all that risk, and did all that time for robbing stores that paid only a few hundred…” I followed it with a hiss.

Ade sighed. “Everything we did in the past was a preparation for this. Without the experience, we wouldn’t have the balls to be here, at this time of the day, doing what we’re doing. We have paid our dues, and that is why fate brought us here to cash our ‘retirement savings’.”

“Yes, indeed.”

We stood at either side of the final grave and Ade sighed again. “After we’re done with this one, we will be made men, my brother.”

“Yes, indeed.” I replied with a smile. I squatted and wiped the dust off the gravestone to confirm that we had the right grave. Ade left investigating and choosing graves to me, so I was the one with the names. “Sarah Marshall. It is the right one.” I confirmed.

A grin spread across his face as he braced himself for a “pre-excavation ritual”. I’d done it at the previous grave when it was my turn to dig and it was so hilarious that he decided he would do the same at the next grave.

He inhaled deeply, exhaled, and then knelt on one knee so he was close to the grave and said, “Trick or treat?!” we both chuckled, and then he stood up and began to dig. 

He had only removed two full shovels of sand when the grave began to cave in through a hole that suddenly appeared. We both stepped back and watched curiously as the sand and grass poured into the grave through the hole. A few seconds in, it stopped. We took a few more steps backward and observed the grave for some more time, but Ade grew impatient.

He cautiously approached the grave and peeked in through the hole, but he couldn’t see anything, so he turned to me and said, “Give me the flashlight.” I’d brought along a flashlight I bought earlier in the day. I’d rigged it to reduce the brightness of the bulbs, so it shone just enough for us to see but not enough to draw attention to us. He put on the torch and directed the light at the hole in the grave, but he still couldn’t see anything, so he leaned in closer. 

As he leaned in, a scrawny hand shot out through the hole and grabbed him by the neck. I shrieked when I saw it. I couldn’t believe my eyes, so I blinked multiple times, but the scene before me remained the same. I watched as maggots wriggled around the rotting hand and was surprised to see the undamaged bright-red fingernails glisten in the dim glow of the flashlight. I watched with horror as the fingers tightened around Ade’s neck. 

While Ade gasped for air and struggled to free his neck, the hole gradually widened and more sand poured into the grave through it. I was rooted to the spot as a head slowly emerged from the hole. What remained of her flesh clung tightly to her face and her balding head, the only thing on her face that had stayed intact from the time she was buried was her bright-red lipstick. She pulled Ade’s head till it was only inches away from hers then a broad grin spread across her face, revealing dull-yellow teeth.

“Treat.” She whispered, and in an instant, she pulled his body through the hole and he disappeared from sight. A shriek escaped my lips again. What I saw triggered a new response within me which caused me to regain some control of my body. All I could think of was getting out of there. I didn’t fully grasp what had just happened or how it came to be that it happened, but I didn’t want to be anywhere near the graveyard as I thought it through. 

I turned and ran as fast as my legs would allow. I didn’t know where exactly I was headed, but I could see a section of the fence surrounding the graveyard in the distance, and I believed that once I crossed it, I would be a safe distance away from Sarah Marshall and her grave.

I was a short distance from the fence when the ground in front of me caved in all of a sudden and brought me to an abrupt halt. I didn’t need any explanations to know what was happening. She was coming for me. 

I didn’t have enough time to think before she emerged from the hole in the ground in front of me. I told my body to turn and run in another direction, but for some reason, my legs refused to obey me. I thought that I should defend myself, but I wasn’t sure the pistol I’d brought for protection would keep Sarah Marshall off me long enough for me to escape the graveyard. I thought I should at least try, but my hands wouldn’t obey me either, so I was rooted to the spot with my eyes locked on the figure emerging from the hole.

As she emerged from the hole in the ground, maggots and bits of what was left of her pale and dry skin fell off her bones. I was surprised that despite having less than half of the flesh and muscles she should have, she was still so nimble and strong. I watched with horror as she lapped up a red liquid that had begun to dribble down from her lips as she emerged from the hole. She dabbed at what was left of it with a bony finger and licked it off the finger, then she turned to me. 

“Don’t be shy,” she whispered. “There is enough room in there for the three of us.”

I began to tremble as she reached for my neck. What should I do? I wondered. What could I do to appease Sarah Marshall and return home in one piece?