‘What Pete is trying to say is that we gotta know with precision, we gotta know what’s accurate,’ said Bo.

‘I’ll say it again,’ said Doug. ‘You listen close. Tom, you taking this down?’

‘Yup,’ said Tom, his pencil poised over his notepad. ‘Shoot.’

They stood in the darkening shadows, in the smell of grass and leaves and old roses and cold stone and raised their heads, sniffling, and wiped their cheeks on their shirtsleeves.

‘Okay, then,’ said Doug. ‘Let’s go over it again. It’s not enough just seeing these graves. We’ve got to sneak under open windows, listen, discover what those old geezers are sick with. Tom, go get the pumpkins out of Grandma’s pantry. We’re gonna have a contest, see which of us can carve the scariest pumpkin. One to look like old man Quartermain, one like Bleak, one like Gray. Light them up and put them out. Later tonight we start our first attack with the carved pumpkins. Okay?’

‘Okay!’ everyone shouted.

They leapt over WHYTE, WILLIAMS, and NEBB, jumped and vaulted SAMUELS and KELLER, screamed the iron gate wide, leaving the cold land behind them, lost sunlight, and the creek running forever below the hill. A host of gray moths followed them as far as the gate where Tom braked and stared at his brother accusingly.

‘Doug, about those pumpkins. Gosh almighty, you’re nuts!’

‘What?’ Doug stopped and turned back as the other boys ran on.

‘It ain’t enough. I mean, look what you’ve done. You’ve pushed the fellas too far, got ’em scared. Keep on with this sort of talk you’re going to lose your army. You’ve got to do something that will put everything back together again. Find something for us to do or else everyone will go home and stay there, or go lie down with the dogs and sleep it off. Think of something, Doug. It’s important.’

Doug put his hands on his hips and stared at Tom. ‘Why do I got this feeling you’re the general and I’m just a buck private?’

‘What do you mean, Doug?’

‘I mean here I am, almost fourteen, and you’re twelve going on a hundred and ordering me around and telling me what to do. Are things so bad?’

‘Bad, Doug? They’re terrible. Look at all those guys running away. You better catch up and think of something between here and the middle of town. Reorganize the army. Give us something to do besides carving jack–o’–lanterns. Think, Doug, think.’

‘I’m thinking,’ said Doug, eyes shut.

‘Well then, get going! Run, Doug, I’ll catch up.’

And Doug ran on.

Chapter Eleven

CHAPTER ELEVEN

On the way into town, on a street near the school stood the nickel emporium where all the sweet poisons hid in luscious traps.