With a deep pull of air, I steadied myself and deepened my voice as much as I could. Not too hard, since it was naturally raspy and a little deep anyway. “Savannah PD! Get your asses out of there now!”

Waiting for the scrambling of bony behinds was almost fun. I stood there listening to their cursing, calling of vile names, and climbing up stone with one hand over my mouth, the other hand viciously swatting at the mosquitoes sucking the blood out of my hide. Then, many things happened all at once.

Another crash sounded, almost like glass or pottery being broken, and a gust of wind seemed to whoosh from the crypt, high-pitched, almost like a howl. I turned my head to avoid the brunt of it because it smelled gross, like decay. Then one of the boys swore, and they all yelled with squeaky voices and piled out of the grave, flinging themselves onto the ground and then scurrying to get up. The wind abruptly stopped. The deafening chirping cicadas had grown completely silent. Bonaventure was as still as the death that lay buried beneath it.

Seth stumbled by, and I grabbed him by the shirt, pulling him to an abrupt stop. He whipped around, his eyes glazed; they turned angry when he recognized me. I let him go and lifted a brow.

“God, Riley!” he hollered. “What are you doing?” He frowned. “Let me go!”

The other boys stopped their scrambling and turned. They all fell to the ground, laughing. One whistled. Riggs, whom I’d known since he was seven, said, “Poe’s sister is freakin’ hot!”

“Damn, Poe — where you been hidin’ her?”

“She married?”

“Who cares, man?!” Riggs said. “Her ass is smokin’!”

They all laughed.

Seth’s gaze left mine, and he lunged toward his friend. “Shut up, Riggs!”