She balanced herself on the lip of the coffin and slid toward the front of the hearse where they’d stowed the sandbags. She hefted them, one at a time, into her coffin and spread them out. With all three in place, she slid the lid back on top of her coffin, giving her access to Baz’s.

His lid was sticking at the feet, just as hers had. She crawled atop her coffin, its lid precariously in place. She had to lay there, as there weren’t enough room overhead for anything else. She pushed her jemmy bar into the tiny gap Baz had managed to make on his own. Careful not to cause any obvious damage, she pried the last nail out, whispering, though he likely couldn’t hear her, “I’m here Baz. I’m here.”

After a moment, the lid popped free. She slid out of the way as Baz pushed it up and over onto her coffin. Two coffins in one hearse was tight, even in one designed to hold two.

In a low voice, she said, “Snatch the sandbags. Getting out took longer than it ought. I’d wager we’re nearly to the churchyard.”

He set to work without hesitation. When the bags were in place, he moved the lid back. Tied to a hook at the front of the hearse was a hammer and a small bag. They had to work quickly. Baz pounded nails in near him. Gemma pounded near her.

The hearse was slowing. They were approaching their destination. They both scrambled to the front of the hearse and the hinged flap that gave access to the false bottom. It wouldn’t be easy to fit in the small space; the gap couldn’t be made very large without leaking the entire scheme.

They wriggled and twisted and bent, trying to slide into their hiding place.

The hearse stopped.

No words passed between Gemma and Baz. They had to get out of sight, and they had to do it now.

Voices could be heard on all sides.

This was their final chance.

They managed to slide themselves in and pull the hinged door closed in the very instant the voices outside became clear. The doors at the back opened.

In the darkness, she felt Barnabus’s hand brush against her arm, an unspoken reassurance that he was there and they were together.

The hearse jostled and shifted. Gemma held her breath. Only when she heard the hearse doors slamming shut did she dare take even the shallowest intake of air.

After a moment, all was still. Even the voices that had sounded on either side of the carriage could no longer be heard. The procession had gone into the chapel. She and Baz had only the length of a funeral before everyone would exit again and make their way to the graveside.

She still needed to wait for a signal from Kumar, though, before moving.