Jason cut hard on the wheel.
Even so, the car's headlights slipped off the sharp curve and fell into the forest. He was forced to drive by memory. The steep mountain road surrendered nothing at night.
He glanced up to where the blackness met starry sky. There, the forest broke, and Grandview Cemetery stretched for an enormous expanse. Jason was alone, and his heart was pounding.
Below, in the valley, the lights of Johnstown, Pennsylvania glowed. Once, it was a steel-making town, but the mills sat rusting. Many of the tragedies of Johnstown were preserved in Grandview Cemetery, including the 750 unknown dead from the great flood of 1889. In fact, so many citizens were tucked into that mountaintop that the cemetery's population seemed to dwarf the city's.
The final turn broke from the woods and deposited him under the open night sky. To his left, the ancient stone wall of the cemetery began. Weathered and dark, the stones were locked solidly despite standing for more than 100 years.
He rolled by the enormous iron gates. Locked for the night. No one in or out.
But Jason was well acquainted with defeating the cemetery wall in the darkness. Climbing wasn't impossible, but difficult. The key was a breach farther down. Over the years, Grandview had expanded, and these newer areas were fenced by modern chain link. Where metal met stained stone, a space opened where he could squeeze through.
He steered for a shaded street running parallel to the cemetery, then slowed under the canopy of trees. Sleepy windows, glowing only from televisions and kitchen lights, lined the sidewalks. No one noticed him creep to a stop amid the sprinkle of parked cars.
Jason slipped out of the car, then shut the door as quietly as possible. September had stolen over summer, and the shortened days had taken their toll. The moist, night air sank into Jason's skin, but he would not permit himself to be cold. He steeled himself against more than the weather as he crossed the street to the shadowy sidewalk.
He scanned the neighborhood. Nothing. No one peeping from behind a curtain. No cars bearing down to expose him in their headlights. He granted himself a little smile for his luck, then turned the corner toward the cemetery.
The mountain road approached, and Jason saw unspoiled darkness in either direction. And more importantly, no police. He listened. No sound of tires rushing in the distance. He perched at the edge of the pavement.
Erring on the side of speed, he sprang forward and ran for the first time. Usually, his friends trailed, but that night, he bounded across alone. A moment later, he pitched himself sideways and scraped through the opening between walls. Then, he bent, slowing, and blended into the many shadows lurking among the graves.
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