Immortal Holiday, Part 4: Gravedigging

Destination: Michigan. I won’t say the city — hey, privacy, okay? We dropped off my folks where they’d be staying: with Aunt Cammie and Uncle Ron. I’d never met them before and only heard their names mentioned once that I can recall; Ron is apparently my dad’s older half-brother. Between Weston and St. Clairsville, we got to Michigan pretty late for a couple of welcoming retirees, so Cole, Travis, and I drove right on to our rental. Happily, it’s not terribly difficult to find a property with an earthen basement or cellar in the North.

It also never fails to amaze me that you can ask someone to dig a hole with the exact dimensions of a shallow grave and no one asks, “Are burying a body or something?” Pro tip: never fill the hole back in before you leave; otherwise, they’ll just dig it up and may call the cops… just in case. It’s easier to pay a little extra (not no-questions-asked extra) and let them wonder if it’s a Pagan thing or something. They’ll shrug, fill the hole back in, and never once think a Vampire rested there during the day.