"I told you'd I'd take over at some point. Don't stop or we'll never finish." Turk lifted his hat and ran a hand through his curly red hair. He was shorter than most men but made up for it in attitude. He was uncomfortable standing here in the shadow of the church. The cemetery was eerily silent in the black of the night.

Sanders reluctantly resumed his shovelling knowing that somehow Turk would make him do all the work. Beads of sweat rolled down Sander's dark brown forehead. Although he was born on the southern islands, he grew up here and spoke with only a minor accent. The two had been good friends since childhood and had grand plans to become tomb raiders.

A wooden "thud" surprised them both as Sanders dug deep with another downswing. "It can't be the coffin. We haven't dug deep enough," he ventured as he cleared away a bigger space revealing some wooden boards.

Sanders hesitated, stifling a quick comeback at being ordered about so. But curiosity got the better of him and he cleared the dirt away from a larger section. The boards were of varying sizes and their ends were still buried in the dirt.

"Turk, what have you got us into this time?" Sanders muttered, kneeling next to Turk and trying to peer through the boards. "What if this is --. What was that? Something's moving down there!"

Both Turk and Sanders instinctively moved back from the edge. Somewhere at the bottom of the hole, something was moving about.