Grave Robber

"Oh God, Wallace I'm going to...I'm going to...I'm going to-!"

The rest came out as a long scream. Wallace felt his cock squirt, pumping a hot stream into her. They froze in that position for a long time, waiting for the climax to recede, and then they both fell over, panting and red-faced. She winced as he pulled out, and they kissed in the dark.

"I'm sorry!" he said, gasping.

She blinked. "What for?"

"Well, I, um, didn't take very long..."

"Really? My husband was always done a long time before that. Isn't that normal?"

They both began to laugh. April rolled on top of him, kissing him, and said "I bet you can do more."

Her fingers wrapped around him. He grunted.

"That might be a lot to ask," he said.

"All sorts of things are returning unexpectedly tonight," she said. "I think we're due for one more."

She ran a hand up and down the length of him, and he sucked his breath between his teeth. She lay a hand on his forehead and told him to relax. He closed his eyes and tried not to think too hard. She tightened her grip and started to pump him with her fist. He was still wet from her body, and her hand slid around him easily. She circled two fingers around the tip and tugged, once, twice, three times, and he felt himself stiffening, a dull throb starting at the base and moving up.

"There we are," she said. "See? You don't give yourself enough credit."

She swung one leg over him and pressed him between her thighs. He tried to sit up but she pushed him back down again. "Just relax," she said, positioning herself over him and then pushing down. They came together again. She rocked back and forth on him, her fingers digging into his bare shoulders.

Wallace cupped her breasts and squeezed them as she rode up and down. She leaned over far enough for his mouth to reach one, and he licked a wet circle around one nipple. She gasped and he did it again with the other. She wiggled her hips back and forth, and braced herself against the wall to push down on him harder. He sucked one breast into his mouth, pushing the firm nipple against his teeth. She moaned.

April pushed back and forth on him, and tiny electric jolts ran up his body. He'd only been with two women before, and only one he'd really enjoyed, but April showed an exuberance even she hadn't. He could tell that she was thinking about nothing else except the feeling of him inside of her, and he tried to block everything out of his mind too. Now and then an image of the graveyard swam into his mind, but he pushed it all back.

He brought her face down to his and kissed her. Her body writhed on top of his. He was damp with sweat, and now so was she. He threw his arms around her and held her as close as he could, and they stayed perfectly still for a while, hoping they could stop time from moving if they just did.

April sighed and murmured. "Do you know, I think I feel more alive now than I ever have. What do you-"

She stopped.

"Someone's at the door."

He looked. "There's no one."

"No, there is, I saw him trying to look into the windows."

Wallace saw no one, but to reassure her he went and opened the door. "Clarence!" he said.

"Oh, you remember my name? Well, goody goody. Are any other memories starting to stir, like where in the hell you're supposed to be?"

Clarence pushed him out of the way and came in, taking off his hat with one hand and shoving his pipe in Wallace's face with the other.

"Three hours boy!" he said. "What did I tell you but three hours? Oh, you're on thin ice now, very, very thin ice!"

"Clarence, wait," said Wallace. "Something has happened."

"Unless that something is that you've forgot how to tell time or walk out of your own damn house then I don't give a rat's ass. I think you're going to be in for-"

Clarence stopped. He saw April. She lay on the bed, sheet wrapped around her body, breasts exposed, staring. Clarence's jaw dropped.

"You-" he said, turning to Wallace, mouth working but not able to speak for a moment. "You're a sick man, Thom Wallace!"

"It's not what you think!"

"Sick! Sick, I tell you, sick! Now, I'm not above a little body snatching when times are tight, but I take 'em to the university labs. I'm a patron of the sciences is what I am. But this, this is wrong, boy, filthy and wrong!"

"Clarence, you don't understand, she's alive!" He looked at April. "Tell him! Show him what happened."

April said nothing. She didn't move. Her expression did not change.

"April?" said Wallace.

"Sick, sick!" said Clarence.

"Clarence, let me explain."

Clarence backed away, out the door. "Don't you come near me! You just keep those clammy hands of yours off. There'll be hell to pay for this boy, you hear me, hell to pay!"

The old man turned and ran. Wallace watched him go, then closed the door. April sat up.

"Was that your partner?" she said.

Wallace looked at her. "Why didn't you say something to him?"

"Well, I was embarrassed," she said, pulling the sheets up over her breasts. "I was naked and a strange man burst in."

Wallace hung his head. "Don't you see? He's going to fetch the law, or worse."

April shook her head. "I don't think he will."

"Why not?"

"Well, when I got out of my coffin I didn't know where to find you. I'm not from around here you know. So I woke a few people up to ask if anyone knew you."

"We have to get out before-" Wallace stopped. "Wait. What do you mean, woke a few people up?"

April knitted her brow. "Actually, truth be told, I think it was quite a lot of people..."

***

Clarence's knees were killing him, but he didn't slow down. He wanted to get to the inn as fast as possible, as a night like this called for drinking. A stooped old woman blocked his way.

"Out of the way, you hag," he said.

"My rings," said the old woman.

Clarence stopped. "What's that?"

The woman picked her head up. Clarence saw a ghoulish blue face under her bonnet.

"Give me back my rings!" said Widow Ramson.

Clarence's heart stopped. The widow reached out, and he backed away.

"No!" he said, and then something struck him on the arm. It was a black cane, which had once had a silver head, now missing.

"Evening, Clarence," said Judge Harper.

Clarence tried to run, but there were more of them now, all around him, people with pale faces and glassy eyes and grasping, outstretched fingers. They crowded him and forced him backwards.

"My watch!" said one.

"My necklace!" said one.

"My gold tooth!" said another.

They corralled him into an alley.

"Thief!"

"Grave robber!"

"Give us back what you took!"

"Give it back! Give it back!"

"No, no, no!" screamed Clarence. "I don't have it anymore, it's all gone, it's spent! And what were you going to do with it anyway? What good will it do you now?"

"That doesn't matter," said Widow Ramson. "They were ours, and you stole them. You're a thief, Archibald Clarence! Thief, thief, thief!"

The crowd set on him, tearing his coat with their pale, grasping hands.

"What's that, Clarence?" said Judge Harper. "Can't pay your debts? The law goes hard on a man who can't pay his debts." The judge took Clarence's hat and put it on his own head, then grinned. His teeth were black.

Clarence went to his knees and grabbed the tail of the judge's coat. "Have mercy on me, Your Honor! I'm an old man, a poor man, and I've learned the error of my ways, really, I have!"

"Oh, it's too late for that," said the judge, pushing Clarence down with a moldering hand. "You'll have to pay your dues, now."

Clarence trembled. "What are you going to do?"

"I always said I'd see you hang before I died, Clarence," said the judge. "Better late than never."

***

Shane put his shovel down and took up the crowbar, prying open the coffin lid. A sour smell greeted him, and he saw the old man, withered away to bones now, and the watch chain in his hand. He reached for it.

"Wait," said a voice. Shane looked up.

"Yes, Mr. Wallace?"

The older man bent down by the graveside, looking in. "You can't just go and take it like that. There are rules for these things, boy."

Shane frowned. "What kind of rules?"

In answer, Mr. Wallace's wife slid down into the grave beside Shane. She was a strange woman, very beautiful but very pale, and he swore sometimes that her feet never quite touched the ground.

Mrs. Wallace put her face right next to the dead man's skull. Shane thought she was whispering, but he couldn't hear what was said. Then there was a rustling sound, and, eyes wide, Shane saw the dead man's skeletal hand lift up, and hold out the chain.

"There now," said Mr. Wallace. "Go ahead, boy. Take it."

Shane's hands shook. He was trying to remember the words to a prayer, any prayer, but it had been a long time since he'd needed one.

"Take it," said Mr. Wallace.

Shane snatched the chain, and the hand fell back down. Mr. Wallace helped him out of the grave, and Mrs. Wallace was out too, though he hadn't seen her climb up. Mr. Wallace clapped him on the shoulder.

"That's a lesson I learned when I was your age," he said, brushing dirt off of Shane's coat. "You can't just take whatever you want from the dead, you always have to ask first. The dead don't put much value by gold and jewels, but what they do value is consideration, and they have long memories."

Mr. Wallace jabbed a finger in Shane's face. "Keep that in mind, boy. The dead remember."

Mrs. Wallace looked at him, and Shane couldn't help but shiver.