Blair Witch- Coffin Moving

A foot down, the shovel smacked up against something hard.
"Over here," he said, motioning Green to dig closer to him.
Five minutes later, they were looking at the top of a coffin. A nice coffin: Crawford grabbed the flashlight and shone it up and down the length of the dark, hardwood box.
He frowned. Something was wrong. "What was the date on the tombstone again?"
"Nineteen twenty-seven," Hart said.
"This coffin's a helluva lot newer than that."
Green nodded. "Couple years, at the most."
Crawford and Green exchanged glances. Fellowes had put a new coffin in an old grave? Why? How?
They went back to digging.
In fifteen minutes, a pile of mud three feet high circled the excavation. Crawford was soaked to the bone: sometime during the digging, it had started raining again. The tarp protected them from above, but the ground was turning into swamp beneath their feet.
...

"Well, let's be careful with it, till we get back to town." Hart stepped past Crawford and threw two long cloth straps to Callihan. Hart climbed down and helped Callihan run the straps through the handles of the coffin, and then underneath it. Then they tied ropes to the straps.
It took twenty sweaty minutes for all four of them to drag the coffin up and out of the grave. Every so often, Crawford would wonder how Fellowes had managed it by himself. The answer, of course, was that he couldn't have. Which meant that he had to have help. But who in God's name would help him? No one. So how could he have managed it himself?
And so on.
When the coffin was out, Hart slid a gurney underneath the box. Crawford was soaked in sweat and rain and covered in mud. So was everybody else. But they still had to fill the grave back in.
Crawford picked up a shovel again and threw a spadeful of earth into the hole.
"Hey, hold on a second."
That was Callihan. He jumped back down into the grave, then back up a second later, holding something about the size of a football in his hand. He brushed the mud off it and held it up for them all to see.
"What do you make of this?"
They all gathered round.
"It was under the coffin," Callihan said.
"Weird," Crawford said. "You mind?"
He took the object from Callihan. It was a bunch of sticks, tied together
with twine.
"What the hell?" Crawford turned it over and over in his hands.
"It looks like a little stickman, doesn't it?"

- Blair Witch: Graveyard Shift, chapter Two