“How come there are no girls?” Allie asked.

“Girls come by once in a while, wantin’ to join,” Johnnie-O said. “We send ’em packing.” And then he added, “I don’t like girls much.”

Allie couldn’t help but grin. “I think you died about a year too young.”

“Yeah,” Johnnie-O admitted. “And it really ticks me off.”

Now that she was accepted by their leader, the other kids kept stealing glimpses at her, like she was some sort of exotic creature. Great, she thought, I’m playing Wendy to a delinquent Peter Pan and the lost boys of Juvie Hall.

She told them all about the pickle factory, and the Haunter’s air-soldiers.

“His magic ain’t no match for us,” Johnnie-O said proudly. Allie wasn’t entirely convinced, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“The hard part will be getting in. There’s a big steel door—not living-world steel, but steel that crossed over with the building. I pounded on it for hours and couldn’t make a dent.”

Johnnie-O wasn’t bothered. “That ain’t a problem. We’ll use explosives.”

“You’ve got explosives!?”

He called to a kid on the other side of the church. “Hey, Stubs, get your fat butt over here!”

The kid came running.

“A few years back,” Johnnie explained, “Stubs here was sellin’ illegal fireworks out of his garage. They caught on fire, and Stubs won himself a one-way trip to Everlost. Anyways, it turns out part of his fireworks stash came over with him.” And then Johnnie added, “Which is more than I can say for most of his fingers.”

“Yeah,” said Raggedy Andy, laughing. “That’s how come Stubs can only count to three.”

Allie and the “Alter” Boys left at dawn, the members of the gang all carrying baseball bats, chains, and various other makeshift weapons that had somehow crossed over. They would have been terrifying in the living world, but with the threat of pain and death not applicable in Everlost, it was all pretty much for show; fashion accessories for bad boys who didn’t get where they were going.

All the while as they marched south toward the city, Purple-puss kept giving Allie dirty looks. Not too long into their journey, he broke his silence. “I don’t like this, Johnnie-O,” he said, the bulge in his neck ping-ponging up and down. “She’s not one of us, we shouldn’t oughta be trusting her.”

Johnnie-O smirked. “Heimlich here don’t trust nobody.”

“For all we know,” Heimlich said, “she could be leading us straight to the Sky Witch.”

“Shut up,” said Johnny-O, “there ain’t no such thing.”

“Sky Witch?” asked Allie.

Johnnie-O waved it off. “Just a stupid story they tell to scare little kids about some witch who lives in the skies over Manhattan.”

“She devours kids’ souls,” said another kid.

“Yeah,” said Raggedy Andy baring his teeth and hooking his hands like claws. “She grabs you and takes a deep breath sucking your soul right up her nose. That’s why they also call her the ‘Queen of Snot.’”

Johnnie-O gave them a Three Stooges—like slap that got all three of them. “What, were you born stupid or did you just die that way?” He turned to Allie. “Some kids will believe anything.”