“What do you think happened to him?”

The man paused but not before glaring at the young boy.

“None of my business.” He tossed him a shovel and was amused when he fumbled with the handle.

“Our job is to dig, not to ask questions," the man said, walking over to the site where they were to start digging.

The cold wind whipped threw the grass and sent shivers up the boy’s spine. He was appalled. The man had no sympathy for the dead. The body was just lying there. Dead, With no explanation.

Without another word, the boy took a deep breath and followed the man to the site. The earth was hard, and the digging was tough, but the boy's determination was stronger. As the sun dipped lower in the sky, the shadows grew longer, and the boy remembered his purpose: to seek justice for the one lying silently beneath.

The boy dug until his hands bled. He dropped the shovel with a grunt and sat on the ground to admire the hole he had been digging all evening. The moon had taken its place in the darkening sky, casting an eerie glow over the grassy fields. The man was still digging and he dug until it was finished and only then, did he lay the shovel down.

The man looked at the body that lay on the ground “He is the first of many to come.” The man's cold words made him shiver. The man grabbed the body's shoulders.

“Don’t just stand there, help me.” The boy scrambled to find the body's legs. The boy looked around confused.

“Doesn’t he deserve a casket?.”

The man scoffed, "He doesn't deserve anything. Nobody cared for him in life, and nobody will care for him in death.”

The man and the boy gently placed him in the hole.

“What do you want me to do now?” The man didn’t respond instead he picked up his shovel and started shoveling dirt back into the hole.

“You don’t have to do this. Leave it to me.” So the boy sat and watched but he didn’t dare look back into the hole.

“Where did you find him?” The boy asked. The man wiped the sweat from his brow before responding,

"He was an easy find, right here, in the field. Someone dropped him off.”

“Who? Why? How did he die?”

The man let out a grim chuckle. "We don't ask these questions, boy.”

The boy found his eyes getting heavy and he slumped against the shovel. He strained to keep his eyes open, feeling the weight of exhaustion settled over him. He silently drifted off to sleep.

The man checked his watch. It was almost time. The boy would wake up, as they always do. Just as the man finished burying the body, the earth beneath them rumbled. As the ground shook, the boy jolted awake, startled by the sudden movement.

The man looked down at the boy, "It's time to go."

The boy looked at him, confused and scared. "What's happening?"

The man smirked, "The dead are rising."

The boy's eyes widened, and the man chuckled. "Don't worry, you'll get used to it."

The boy stood up, shaky on his feet. "What do we do?" The man handed him a bag, "We have work to do."

The boy took the bag, feeling the weight of his words. "What kind of work?"

The man grinned, "The kind that pays well."