Jennings paused, held by the agony in Thorn's eyes. Quickly retrieving the tire iron, he jammed it against the smaller lid; Thorn moved quickly beside him, getting his fingers beneath the lid as Jennings fiercely pried up. In a single movement it was off and Thorn's face contorted with grief. Within the small casket were the remains of a human child, its delicate skull smashed to pieces.

"Its head ..." sobbed Thorn.

"... God ..."

"They killed it!"

"Let's get out of here."

"They murdered my son!" Thorn screamed, and the lid slammed shut, the two men's eyes locked in horror. 'They murdered him!" wailed Thorn. "They killed my son!"

Jennings pulled Thorn to his feet, physically dragging him away. But then he stopped; his body jarred with sudden terror. "Thorn."

Thorn turned to follow his gaze and saw, dead ahead, the head of a black German shepherd. Its eyes were close-set and glinting; saliva dripped from its half-open mouth as a vicious growl arose from somewhere within. Thorn and Jennings stood motionless as the animal slowly inched forward from the foliage until its full body could be seen. It was thin and scarred, an open wound festering amid clotted patches of hair on its side. The bushes beside it began to rustle and another dog's head appeared; this one gray, its muzzle disfigured and dripping. Then another appeared, and another, the cemetery coming alive with motion as the darkened figures emerged from everywhere, a pack of at least ten, insane and ravenous, their mouths dripping in a continual drool.

Jennings and Thorn were frozen in place, fearing any movement, even that of looking at one another, as the growling pack held them at bay.

They smell ... the carcasses . . ." Jennings whispered. "Just. . . move . . . back."

Barely breathing, the two men began to back up; the dogs immediately moved forward, heads held low as though stalking prey. Thorn faltered and an involuntary sound rose abruptly from his gut; Jennings gripped him, trying to restore calm.

"Don't run . . . they just want ... the corpses . . ."

But as they passed to two opened graves, the dogs kept coming; their advance unceasing, eyes riveted only on the men. They were closing the gap now, their fluid motion bringing them closer, while Jennings desperately searched for the fence, seeing it was still a hundred yards away. Thorn stumbled again and clung tightly to Jennings, both men shaking as they struggled to back away. Then their backs hit something solid and Thorn shuddered. They were at the base of the great stone idol, trapped there as the dogs spread slowly around them, blocking any chance of escape. For an. awful moment all remained frozen, predators and prey, the circle of dripping teeth holding them at bay. The sun was out now, casting a reddish glow upon the headstones; the dogs and men were held in place as though awaiting a signal to set them into motion. The seconds passed and they coiled tighter; the men rigid, the dogs crouched, ready to spring.