Glen's movement as he zipped up the body bag froze; the sound of metal friction gave a dry 'zip' before stopping abruptly, like a heartbeat suddenly cut short in the silent space.
He slowly turned his head, his movements sluggish like a wooden puppet. His eyes, behind the round-rimmed glasses, stared intently at Alex, a gaze sharp and profound as if wanting to peer through to his very core.
"You know the River of Souls?"
The question hung in mid-air, carrying the weight of a thousand pounds. Six feet under was the spiritual boundary, the standard depth to separate the world of the living and the dead, the place closest to the River of Souls, and also the entrance to the Shadowlands according to ancient legends that had long been banned from circulation by the Church of Light.
