The Cemetery Boys Read Online Free PDF Page B

I’ve got some people I want to introduce you to.”
    My eyes lingered on the door that Cara had just slammed, and I paused, contemplating my next move. If I left now, would Cara be mad at me later? Or was I too late to make a difference? Finally, I let my curiosity win out. I’d make it up to Cara the next time I saw her.
    Devon and I walked along the grossly uneven sidewalk and passed the mansion I had seen from the car. Bright lights were flashing across the street from the gas station, and as we approached, I could see a car that had smashed into a telephone pole. The pole had given way and fallen on top of the car, denting its roof with the attached transformer. The windshield was smashed open completely. Two cops were on the scene. One was on his radio and the other was just kind of moseying around the car, looking important. The driver was still in the driver’s seat, but the body was mostly covered up with a tarp. There was no ambulance in sight. I wondered if one was on the way from the city, or if the police hadn’t even called one because it was too late.
    â€œHoly shit. I think the driver is dead.”
    Devon just shrugged. “Spencer’s going through a bad time right now.”
    My steps slowed momentarily. What an odd thing to say.
    Devon grabbed my arm and pulled me away before thecops noticed us. I couldn’t believe how calm he was about the whole thing.
    In silence, we made our way to the far end of town. It wasn’t like Spencer was difficult to navigate—several of the streets were numbered, First through Fifth, and the streets that weren’t numbered mostly fell in between—so I wasn’t worried about getting lost. Once we hit Central Street, Devon steered us left, and when the street came to an end, he led me through some brush to a view of the reservoir—the one I’d seen online. The water was inky black under the night sky. I could see a few house lights peeking through a band of trees on the other side. A small peninsula jutted out from the land there. Old train tracks ran over a tall bridge and connected the peninsula to the land that made up Spencer. It was quite a scene. I bet my mom would have loved it.
    It hurt to think pleasant things about my mom. Mostly because I was still kind of mad at her. If only she hadn’t gotten sick. If only she could have gotten better sooner. Maybe we wouldn’t be where we were now.
    â€œIt’s nice, right? They call it the Holiday Reservoir. It’s been here forever.” The serene glass of the water shattered as Devon tossed a stone in, causing our reflections to ripple. He pointed to the area right below us. “But this section . . . this part right here . . . it’s important. It has a dark history to people in Spencer.”
    I couldn’t help thinking that this was how locals started telling urban legends to newcomers, but I was willing to play along for now. Just until the man with a hook for a hand became part of the storyline or that kid who hawked Life Cereal died by eating Pop Rocks and then drinking Diet Coke. Then I was definitely speaking up. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
    A breeze blew in across the water, ruffling our shirts. Devon’s hair was cut so short that it didn’t move. Neither did Devon. He was standing there, staring into the water below, looking like his mind was anywhere but with me in the present. “Years ago, there was a train wreck on the bridge over there. A few of the cars left the tracks and fell into the water. They were never recovered. Too heavy to lift, too expensive to afford. Spencer isn’t exactly home to many rich people.”
    I raised an eyebrow at him. “What about the mansion?”
    â€œThat was William Spencer’s—the guy that built this town. He was probably the only guy with real money who ever lived here. Most people in Spencer are broke or on their way to broke. Which is why, over the years, so