As we ran, I turned and glanced over my shoulder. The other brain was following us. I yelled for Mo’Lock to keep going. I swung around, pulled my gun in a single motion, and fired at the spy brain. It swooped left, then right, dodging the shots perfectly. That brain really knew how to fly. I took a couple more shots at it, but didn’t aim too carefully. The brain avoided those as well. I was wasting my time.

I reached the street just as the ghoul was passing through it. He stopped and turned to me, pointing ahead.

There was the little thing, only about a block ahead of us. We ran on and I caught up with the ghoul.

I looked over at him as we ran. “You run ahead. It trusts you. See if you can get it in the park.”

I glanced over my shoulder. The brain was hot on my tail, and not only that, but I saw the old man’s black limo moving past the intersection toward us. I just kept running but I cut to a slower pace.

Within seconds, I could feel the brain on my neck. That’s what I wanted and I kept moving. The Hugh Beaumont Memorial Park was just ahead. Mo’Lock was already there. I kept up the deliberately slow pace until I was right at the edge of the park grounds. Then I made my move. I swung around, snatched the brain in midair, and pulled it down. It fought me but I was stronger. I tucked the brain under my arm like a football, turned back, and sprinted into the park for what I hoped would be the winning score.

Mo’Lock was there waiting with the creature next to him. I ran up to them.

We heard a car door slam. I went up to the ghoul, then turned and waited. I had my gun on the brain.

It was a standoff.

Of course the old man took his sweet-ass time. I yawned at least once waiting for him to hobble within sight. The old man was smiling. He saw I had the gun on the brain, but didn’t seem too concerned.

“Don’t move!” I yelled. “Or the brain gets it.”

The old man stepped forward. “Oh come now, Mr. McDonald. There’s no reason for theatrics. Just give me the animal and I’ll be off.”

Huh? The animal? Did he mean our miniature flesh-eater? I looked at Mo’Lock, who was glancing sideways at me. He looked just as confused. We had no idea what was going on.

The old guy took another step. “Please, there’s very little time,” he said. “And, I wonder if you might tell me what happened to Annette?”

“Pig-Baby ate her,” I said.

“Oh dear,” the old man said, rubbing his chin. “That does present a problem.”

“Yeah, how’s that?”