Trilogy of the Dead
Heather backed away, shivering. So far, the boys hadn't noticed her, and she wanted to keep it that way. The boys' wicked grins and leers warned that they were about to hurt someone really bad. She'd have to find help. Maybe a teacher at school would know what to do. Just as Heather turned on her heels, the crate's occupant let out a blood chilling scream. The voice sounded like her mother.