Ante Mortem by ed. Jodi Lee

gravestones were. Last night Tim had found a magnificent angel with crumbling wings, and a pathetically weathered rocking horse from 1964. On the other side of the graveyard.
    Tim felt it, felt Them calling, waiting, starving. Second thoughts gnawed at his insides now that they were so near the source. He knew if he didn’t move soon, Elliot would.
    It had to be him. For Benny. Not even half a league . Time for the charge.
     
    Elliot struggled to regain his mental equilibrium while they lit, photographed, and took a rubbing; he talked pointlessly, soothingly.
    At first it was difficult. Fucking smart ass Tim and his useless rock. Why was he bothering if he knew damn well nothing here was going to make the project? Why was he humoring him?
    Of course, it could be a good sign. Could mean Elliot would have a chance to get a little something extra out of the bargain, like with Benny. He was only human, after all.
    Sometimes.
    He had that awful cold feeling creeping over him like a slow winter frost. Tim might’ve been lying. Might’ve come over here last night. Might’ve found Them. The thought made him afraid for a split second before the adrenaline started to get him high. The more he thought about it, the bigger the rush. The bigger the rush, the less angry he felt.
    That made it easy to regain his control.
    What if Tim does know? It wasn’t as if he could escape, now. Hell, that might make it even more fun. Clever little prick.
    Elliot tucked his camera back into his pocket. “Maybe the mausoleum over there will make for some decent imagery.”
    Just a casual suggestion. Cool-headed. Collected.
    Tim stuffed his camera into his pack, then stood and faced him. Elliot smiled, feeding off the rush again, off the look in Tim’s eyes. He thought it might be fear, even. His heart soared.
    They got louder under the mausoleum. The air grew colder, slow but obvious. Elliot took a step closer and composed his face into something meant to be concern. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “You okay?”
    Tim’s chest rose and fell with a hard breath, a little ragged.
    Elliot’s heart convulsed joyfully.
    “ No.” Tim looked down, then to the mausoleum in question. Then finally met Elliot’s eyes again.
    It was fear, but something else, too. Elliot didn’t know what, but it got his blood up. It practically screamed in his ears.
    He wanted to ask. He knew it was stupid, but he also knew it was too late to turn back.
    If he’d known Tim this well before, he might not have done this; not right away, anyhow. But how often would he find himself in this position? With someone who may or may not have him figured out?
    This wasn’t going to be like it had been with Benny at all. It might be better. He asked, “Do you know why I brought you here?”
    Tim chewed at the inside of his cheek, nodding once, causing his bangs to flop into his eyes.
    Elliot swallowed his elation. “Do you really?”
    “ Same reason you brought Benny.”
    It meant he did know more—but it didn’t tell Elliot how much . For all he knew, Tim thought of it as a perfectly innocent midnight rendezvous.
    Which it had been, depending on one’s definition of innocent , for the first half hour or so. “Did he tell you we were going to meet here?”
    Tim nodded again.
    “ I’m sorry,” Elliot tried to sound sincere. “You two weren’t…?”
    “ No. He’s—he was my friend.”
    Elliot smiled, even though it ruined his poetic little notion. He could try a couple some other time, maybe. Next time. He stepped closer still, reached upward.
    Tim flinched.
    Elliot felt a tiny surge of vindication, and brushed Tim’s bangs out of his eyes. Used every bit of intensity he could muster, leaned forward to push it into him. “Shame about what happened.” The rush made him want to jump and scream for joy, like dancing along the edge of a very high ravine. Tim’s reply would tell him everything.
    “ Yeah. It was.” Tim smiled, but it was a twisted thing, an out