“What’s that?” Sammy pointed to the small pile of rocks atop the culvert.
“It’s to keep the water from flowing in the wrong places,” Mom told him. She chivvied him along. “We’ve still got to get washed up.”
Sammy knew an altar when he saw one. It looked just like the one in the illustrated children’s Bible. He veered close to the tunnel as they passed. Yes, there were black marks on the top, where the offering was burnt. And strange lines, like someone had dragged a handful of knives through the soot. Claws?
Something splashed in the watery darkness.
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