She threw up her hands. "Fine." She turned to Ajax whose hackles were up, but otherwise managed to keep a fairly cool demeanor. She went through a series of signs, and he shook his hea side to side. She signed again. He shook his head more emphatically. A grunt came from behind April, and Ariabod knuckle-walked forward with Throwaway June tagging closely behind. Ariabod signed to Lou. She signed back and then let out a sigh of relief. Clearly he agreed to do what Ajax had refused to do.

"What?" Tyrone asked.

"He's your consequence," Lou said.

"Meaning?" April asked.

"Meaning Ariabod has agreed to kill the first one of us to break the pact." The look of relief vanished from her face as the words left her mouth. It was as if it had just dawned on her what the gorilla had agreed to do.

"The first one of us? What happens after that?"

She slowly shook her head. "Does it matter?"

Tyrone shrugged. "I guess not."

"What about Wes and Gordy?" I asked. "They have to agree to the pact, too."

She nodded and held up her two-way. "I'll take care of Wes. You can convince Gordy."

"We're assuming the fat man hasn't already eaten Gordy," April said.

We all looked at her not because what she said was outrageous, but because it was a possibility none of us had thought of.

"There's something else," I added. "Archie and Bobby, they're here."

"What?" April said excitedly.

I had been so racked by hunger and guilt for wanting to eat my friends that I had almost forgotten no one else knew they were here. The others almost looked genuinely relieved to learn that they were safe, at least from the Delons and the other Destroyers outside the house.

"They showed up last night," I said. "They're all right."

"I want to see them," April said.

"Not a good idea. You should wait until we make it out of this place."

She snickered. "I doubt I'll make it out of this place."

"You shouldn't say that," I said.

"Don't tell me what to do."

"If you don't think you're going to make it out of here," I said, "that means you have no incentive to keep the pact. If you're not planning on keeping the pact, I'm going to suggest we let Ariabod kill you now to save us from going through a lot of drama."

"What... no, I didn't mean..." She stomped her foot. "I'm tired, and I'm hungry, and you all smell... you know... edible. I just want to see Archie and Bobby. They're kind of like my family"

I felt bad for being so harsh with her. "I get that, but trust me, you don't want to see them like this. If you think we smell edible, wait until you get a whiff of a Storyteller."

She licked their lips.

"So what's the plan?" Tyrone asked.

"We split up again," I said "We check in with one another every hour on our radios. That way we'll know we're all alive and we'll be able to keep tabs on everyone's locations so we don't run into each other."

"Remember," Lou said, "we were brought here for a reason. Keep an eye out for anything that might help us figure out what that reason is. The quicker we know, the quicker we can get out of here and back home."

We all agreed and stood in uncomfortable silence before finding the strength and courage to walk away.

I stopped in the master bedroom on the second floor before going back up to the fourth floor. I felt like my best bet was to write a brief note explaining the pact to Archie. That way, I wouldn't have to get involved in any long conversations that would test my need to feed.

I rifled through the drawers of the dresser and didn't find anything to write with or on. I looked in every nook and cranny and directed Kimball to sniff around. I was fairly certain he didn't understand me, but you never knew in this backwards universe. Maybe Kimball did understand English. I wouldn't have been surprised if he just started talking one day.

I found a closet in the back of the room. I hesitated before opening it. There was a very real possibility that I would be extremely sorry that I opened the door to the closet. As I said, you just didn't know what you were going to find in this universe. I held my breath, opened the door, and quickly stepped back in a crouching position. Nothing. I breathed out and slowly poked my head past the doorway. It was a big closet. Not as big as some of those fancy walk-in closets I used to see on T V, but it was big enough for a safe and three filing cabinets.

I whistled for Kimball, and he came running over. "Stay here. Watch the door."

He tilted his head and then panted, revealing a soothing canine smile. I patted him on the head and stepped into the closet. I opened the top drawer of the first filing cabinet and found nothing but files, mostly maintenance records. I opened the second drawer and found files filled with photos. I started looking through them. I'm not exactly sure why, but I felt the need. If I had been paying attention, I would have noticed the light slowly getting dimmer in the closet, but for some reason I was fixated on the pictures. Most of the pictures were just photos of the grounds at the mansion.

I turned to the door. "Kimball..." I heard a bark just before the door slammed shut.

I felt the breath of a disembodied child on my earlobe as it said, "The boogeyman got him."

A brilliant flash of light momentarily blinded me. It took several seconds for my eyes to adjust and refocus. As things cleared, it became apparent to me that I was no longer in the closet. I was in a poorly lit hallway.

The short red and brown carpet was marked by the impressions of little footprints. I heard the sound of children laughing close by. I followed the prints down the hallway with my eyes until they rounded the corner. I had no interest in following them because I was back in the Land of the Dead, and that could mean only one thing. I was here to witness something I had no power to stop.

The dead boy stepped out of a darkened doorway just beyond the entrance of the adjoining hallway. He looked at me and then turned his attention in the direction of the laughter. My own voice sounded off in my head, Eight Days.

I slowly began to walk towards him. Just as I was about to reach the corner, I heard rushed footsteps behind me. Before I could turn to investigate, a boy of about twelve passed through me. I gasped. My stomach dropped as if I was on a rollercoaster plunging down the first big hill on the track.

"What*cha kiddies up to you?" the boy asked.

I rounded the corner and saw that he was talking to two much younger boys, only three or four years of old. They shrugged and seemed a little frightened of the older boy.

"Cat got your tongues, eh?"

Again they just shrugged.

"My baby sister's asleep, so I got some time to play while she's out. What*cha wanna do?"

"We was playing rock, paper, scissors," the skinnier of the two boys said.

"That's kid's stuff," the older boy said.

"We're kids," the chubbier boy said.

The older boy hesitated and then smiled. "We should look for the ghost."

The two younger boys stiffened and stared at each other with terror in their eyes.

"What ghost, Johnny?" the skinnier boy said.

The older boy sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall. "You ain't heard about the ghost in this hallway?"

The two younger boys shook their heads.

"Goodness, I just figured your folks would tell you about it to keep you from gettin' et up."

"Et up?" the chubbier boy asked.

"Yeah, some people *round here think it could even be the boogeyman. How old are you Billy B?"

The chubby boy held up three fingers.

"What about you Billy G?"

"Four," the skinny boy answered.

"That explains why you ain't never heard about it." He patted the floor and invited the boys to sit down, which they did. "About five years ago..." He looked up and down the hallway. "I think it was on this very floor. There was this boy... I think he was three or four just like you guys. Anyway, he was playing and having a grand old time on a day a lot like this when these lights started to flicker on and off." He pointed to the half dozen lights lining both walls." He didn't think nothing of it at first, and then he heard footsteps... thud, thud, thud... coming down the hall, *cept there weren't nobody there." The two Billys sat with their mouths open, soaking up every word. "He kept on about his playing and then another thud came. And another. Well, this little boy wasn't scared of nothin'."

"He wasn't?" Billy B said.

"Not hardly anyway." The bigger boy shifted and leaned forward. "He decided he would go looking for whoever was coming down the hall. He got about five steps into his search when the lights went completely off. Boom! It was completely dark." The two Billys jumped.

A baby cried in the distance and the older boy sat up. "Shoot. That's my baby sister." He stood up.

"Where you going?" Billy G asked.

"My ma ain't home. I'm supposed to be watching after my baby sister. She went down for her nap. I thought she'd be out until ma got home."

"What about the boogeyman?" Billy B asked.

"Did he et the boy?" Billy G asked.

The older boy smiled. "Cooked him up like a roast. Put his guts in a pie and sold it at the church bizarre. Who do you think bought that pie?"

The two smaller boys shrugged.

"The boy's daddy. Said it was the best pie he ever et. Jumped out the window when the police told him he et his own son in a pie." The sound of the baby crying interrupted his story again, and he started to jog down the hall. He stopped to give them one last detail. "Police found a note on the window sill wrote by the man. It said he was jumping because all he could think about was having another slice of that pie." The older boy darted down the hallway and burst through the door to the stairwell. I saw him take his first two steps up before the door closed. I turned to the dead boy. "Tell me what I'm supposed to do. I'm running out of time. My friends are in danger. Just tell me."

The dead boy turned in my direction but looked past me. I followed his gaze and was horrified to see the gray man step out of the shadows at the other end of the hall. He was coming straight towards me, his eyes fixed on me. The terrible thought went through my head that he could see me. His heavily wrinkled brow hung low as he approached. His gait was quick and deliberate. I spotted the package under his arm. In a matter of seconds he reached me and didn't slow as he passed right through me. I felt an ice cold chill zip through my body. He turned down the adjoining hallway and didn't break his stride as he approached the two Billys.

The two small boys saw him and seemed startled. They gasped and stepped back as the old man approached. I couldn't see his face, but I could feel him smile. His face changed. The gray man hid underneath a kindly grandfather mask.

"Hello, boys," he said.

The boys didn't reply.

"I'm Mr. Howard. Got a sister that lives in this building. She's got a little girl about your age in fact."

The boys looked as if they were starting to relax.

"You wouldn't know her, would you?"

The boys looked at each and then Billy G said, "No."

"They're having a party up on the roof," the Flish said.

My heart sank, and I started to shake. I don't know why. I knew where I was. This wasn't happening. This was the Land of the Dead. This was just some sick and twisted recording of how people died. I was going to watch these two boys die. The thought of it brought tears to my eyes. I tried to tell myself that it wasn't real, but it didn't matter.

"They're having cake and ice cream, and all the boys are going to get baseballs just for coming," the old man said laying it on thick.

The two boys' faces lit up. I could just see the thoughts soaring through their little heads. Ice cream! Baseballs!

The old man scratched his head. "Trouble is I can't find how to get up to the roof. I'd hate to miss the party."

"There's a ladder that goes up," Billy G said. "My daddy showed me once."

"Really?" the Flish asked excitedly.

Billy B pointed to the package under the old man's arm. "That a present for the party?"

The old man chuckled. "No. These are my tools."

"The devil's tools," I said.

"You boys wouldn't want to show me where this ladder is, would you? I'm pretty sure I can get you into the party."

The boys didn't answer.

"There's a baseball in it for each of you."

Billy B looked amazed. "Really?"

The old man nodded. "Yep, and cake and ice cream, too."

That was all it took. Billy B grabbed Billy G's hand and they led the old man down the hallway. They passed two feet from me. I wanted to scoop them up and run far away, but I couldn't. I just had to watch. The Flish passed by me, and I nearly passed out when he winked at me. He knew I was there. He knew I was watching. He liked it.

The dead boy followed them, but I refused to do the same. He turned to me and waited. I shook my head. He opened his mouth and spoke in my voice, repeating the words I had spoken earlier, "I'm running out of time. My friends are in danger."

I followed the dead boy through the door and up the stairs. The old man and the two Billys were a floor ahead of us. Johnny opened the door from his floor as we passed. He didn't even hesitate. He bounded down the steps to the floor below and went back to rejoin his two little friends, but they would be nowhere to be found.

The dead boy picked up the pace, and I struggled to keep up. He wasn't just moving faster. He was frantic. It was as if he didn't want to miss a thing, or maybe he didn't want me to miss a thing.

We reached the top floor just in time to see the old man climbing a ladder to the roof with some difficulty. His tools were getting in the way. He stopped every rung to adjust and reposition the package under his arm. Just as he reached the top rung, he dropped the package and it hit the floor with a metallic clank. The fabric cover twisted on one of the rungs on the way down and was pulled free from the metal box. The lid popped open as it bounced on the tile floor, and his tools scattered. This is what I was supposed to see. The old man climbed down the ladder like he was a world class athlete. It was as if we were in the basement of the Biltmore again. He moved with purpose. He knelt down and picked up a small knife. His eyes shifted from the knife to me. He gave me a dreadful smile.

"Trimming knife," he said carefully placing the knife in the metal box.