The Gravedigger's Brawl by Abigail Roux Page B

unexplainable?” Ash asked.
    â€œHistory doesn’t have to be explainable,” Wyatt responded, looking confident for the first time since he’d been in Ash’s bed. “The real history states the facts. We make from those facts what we will. If the events are unexplainable, that’s not history’s fault.”
    Ash stared up at him, intrigued with the man again despite himself. Finally, he nodded and waved his hand at the third carton. “Sit down, huh? You’re making me nervous hovering.”
    â€œSorry,” Wyatt mumbled. He pulled the carton closer and sat.
    His knee brushed Ash’s, and Ash looked at him from under lowered brows, wondering if he was really as ingenuous as he seemed or if it was just a very good act. Ash didn’t like to think he’d been played. Wyatt had seemed sincere. He still did, which was why Ash still found himself attracted to him.
    Ash cleared his throat and looked away, meeting Noah’s eyes and frowning as Noah smiled at him sympathetically.
    â€œOkay. I’ve been working here about five or six years now,” he said. He leaned against the wall behind him, trying to ease the ache of his muscles. “Working in a place like this, you hear things. People tell us stories trying to impress us, thinking we’re all obsessed with death and stuff.” He sighed as he ran his hands through his hair and belatedly realized it was practically plastic tonight. “Ugh,” he muttered as his hand came away with a sticky combination of sweat and reanimated hair gel.
    Noah chuckled and Wyatt bit his lip against a smile. Ash reached out and wiped his hand on Noah’s arm as he tried to remember some of the things he’d heard over the years.
    â€œA lot of the stories have to do with disaster and mass deaths. You know about the Richmond Theatre fire of 1811? And the Church Hill Tunnel collapse in 1925?”
    Wyatt and Noah both nodded. Noah was smirking at him.
    Ash rolled his eyes. “Of course you do, you’re historians. Well, Byrd Theatre is supposed to be haunted as all hell. The former manager, I think. The ladies bathroom does all sorts of weird things. And there’s a vampire story that goes with the tunnel collapse.”
    â€œVampire story,” Wyatt repeated.
    Ash nodded. “You’ve heard of the Richmond Vampire?”
    â€œI thought he was supposed to be in Hollywood Cemetery,” Noah said.
    â€œHe is, along with a dog statue that comes to life at night. But the Richmond Vampire story started with the tunnel collapse.”
    â€œHow so?”
    â€œStory goes that, after it happened, as workers were rushing to help the men trapped by the collapse, a creature crawled out from the wreckage. Legend says its mouth was covered in blood and its teeth were pointed. Strips of decomposing skin were hanging off its body.”
    Wyatt exhaled. “Lovely image.”
    â€œFamily exhibit, woo-hoo,” Noah singsonged. Wyatt snorted.
    â€œAnyway. The story says that the creature ran away from medical attention, toward Hollywood Cemetery. He hid himself in a crypt that had a date of death chiseled into it but no birth date, and was never seen again. After that, the Richmond Vampire sightings started.”
    â€œCreepy,” Noah said.
    Ash shrugged. “Now, to me the possible truth behind that one is pretty plain. When the tunnel collapsed, a lot of people were injured. There were fires, people were bleeding. Someone crawling out of the tunnel with blood all over them and their skin falling off from severe burns sounds pretty reasonable, right? Being in shock and running off into oblivion only to keel over where your body gave out sounds like it might be reasonable too.”
    â€œYeah, that one’s a good anecdotal one,” Wyatt said with a nod. He was jotting notes down on a pad of paper. Ash watched the pen move for a few seconds before snapping out of it.
    â€œThere’s all