Heather bent over, retrieving the back pack she had tossed over the fence before making her less than picturesque climb. She slung the straps over her...shoulders as she started walking deeper into the old cemetery, hurrying to catch up. "Are the other girls coming," Heather asked, trying to make conversation. "Those bitches better be set up and waiting already," Miranda answered brusquely, her tone indicating she didn't want to talk. Heather took the hint and resigned herself to. ‘You can put me down, and I’ll walk up…’ ‘No way. You’ll tear those stockings,’ he ventured a look at those little toes. She wiggled them and frowned. ‘Besides, I get to hold you all the way up there.’ He took the first few steps slowly to get used to the change in his center of gravity, then trudged up as though he wasn’t carrying anything at all. By the bottom of the third set of stairs, he slowed. His legs were burning. Joanne felt him struggle, and let go of his neck. He tipped forward to. More

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