The shovel lands in my wheelbarrow with a loud clatter. Muddy sweat rolls off of my face and down my neck to collect on my tattered undershirt.  Mud is caked thick on my hands, arms, and legs too. I look down at my shoes. They were never nice, but muddy water from the soggy soil that has leached in has aged them years.  Leather bits were flaked off of them, chunks in some spots.

'God damn,' I thought. 'I hope I find more than enough valuables to do more than replace my clothing only.'

It's downright disrespectful, what I'm doing. But a man has gotta provide for himself by any means necessary. That's what my pa told me anyways, before he was killed fighting in the last gang war.  It's a shame his wealth went to the grave with him.  I sure could have used the money now to carry on without him.

I push the wheelbarrow of goods and my shovel on to another grave.  The headstone is covered with lichen and illegible lettering. 

H re  ies

H NR H Y  RD

18 5 - 1 15

'Whoever lies here was not loved, at least not after death.'

I catch a glimpse of light in the corner of my eye.  Turning my head, I see a lanky gentleman holding a lantern high out in front of himself. 

'It's probably the grounds keeper,' I think.

Not wanting to start a conflict, I start rolling my wheelbarrow in the direction of my car.  Just a few feet in, the wheelbarrow runs over a divot, and I lose my footing.  Myself and the contents of the wheelbarrow topple over making a great raucous sound.

I frantically sit up, and look for the grounds keep.  Standing still and looking in my direction, he's clearly spotted my clumsy ass.

"Hey you! I see you there; the cemetery is closed." He starts making his way towards me, "What are you doing out here?" 

"Shit," I say under my breath. I scramble to my feet and pick up what I can, including my shovel, and bolt for it.

"Hey! Stop! Stop, now!"

As I run, valuables I'd lifted were falling left and right with each step, but I don't care at this point. I reach the high fence where my car sits on the other side, and I hurl everything I can over.  The grounds keeper is now making ground on me. I leap onto the iron rails, pull myself over, and let myself drop on the other side.  I fall on my back, knocking the wind out of my lungs.  Rolling over and gasping for air, I see the grounds keeper has nearly made it to the fence now. I frantically gather what goods I see around me, and stumble to my car and throw everything into the passenger side window.  Sliding over the hood, I swing myself into the driver seat. With the only grace I've received all night, I crank the car with ease and peel out down the street.  In my rear-view mirror, I see the grounds keep behind the fence I jumped over, raising his fits in the air in anger.

"I've gotta find a better way to get cash."