frankie [episodes 1-3]

-6-

Without question Rebecca drives past my house. She turns to look at me; her blue eyes glinting.

"Where we going?"

"Kensington Cemetery."

Behind us Jared leans his big arms around the backs of our chairs and pokes his head through the gap between us. I look down at the newspaper, glancing at the crossed out obituary - the words not fresh enough scribbled beside it. That girl was buried yesterday. Shelley was buried this morning.

I feel sick as I think it over.

One of the cadavers is fresher than the other...

"I think he's going to dig up a grave. I think he's going to steal a body."

Out of the corner of my eye I see Jared's serious face blanche. Rebecca lets out a low whistle.

"Wow...gross..."

The crumpled paper rattles in my hands as the hearse weaves around the tall houses of suburban Kensington.

"I just don't understand why," I say.

"Not fresh enough," mumbles Jared.

Rebecca spares him a quick glance over her shoulder.

"Erm...you alright there, Creepy?"

He prods the damp newspaper, his finger touching Mr Redwood's writing. His lips are pursed as though frustrated we're not keeping up with his train of thought.

"Not fresh enough. Back at the wax museum the Curator said something Mr Redwood had supplied him with wasn't fresh enough. I wonder if he's been supplying him with..."

"Bodies," I mutter, feeling a horrible twist in my gut. "But why?"

The tall iron gates to the graveyard come into sight down the quiet road, nestled into an overgrown hedge running the vast perimeter of the cemetery.

"I did say those wax models look realistic..." says Rebecca.

"Jesus Christ, Rigor," I snap. "You don't think the models on display were actually...? No...surely not. That's...horrible."

She momentarily raises her hands from the steering wheel.

"Hey...I'm not the one doing it. What do you think, Jazza?"

He gives her a pained look.

"Jazza?! We're not brining that nickname back again are we?" He pauses then pulls his phone out of his jeans pocket. "I don't know. It's possible I suppose. I'll text Carter, see what he thinks."

The main Cemetery gates are closed, blocking access to the hearse, so Rebecca parks up. The road is deserted except for a vehicle a short way down the street. Rebecca narrows her eyes.

"That's Mr Redwood's car. I've seen it at school."

She pulls out the ignition and we sit in darkness for a moment – the only sound being the light patter of rain and Jared's fingers thudding against his phone as he sends the text to Carter.

"Do you think he's a demon?" I say.

Rebecca looks at me and holds my gaze.

"Maybe. Maybe not," her blue eyes darken. "Not all monsters come out at night."

The she opens the car door and jumps out of the hearse.

"Come on. Let's go find out what's going on."

I follow her to the gates, Jared clambering out behind us. The rain has pretty much desisted now but it has released scents into the air; fresh earth, grass and decaying flowers. We all look up at the tall iron gate, peering through the bars to the assortment of night painted headstones on the other side.