The Hanging Hill

113

A deafening squeal echoed off the walls. Metal twisting and turning against metal. The bull’s muzzle creaked open.

“Moloch has girls,” rumbled a voice deeper than a canyon at the bottom of the ocean.

Even Grimes seemed amazed.

The statue was talking.

“Have girls. Need boy.”

Grimes stepped forward. “You have girls?”

The bull’s head nodded once with a thunderous clatter.

“The child my grandfather sacrificed. Plus my sister?”

Another cacophony of clanking as the beast nodded again.

“So you only need the boy?”

Another earth-trembling nod. “Feed me the one called Zack. Need boy.”

With that, the bull became silent.