It had been hours since it had rained but the deadpan clouds above looked like they could have dropped a-whole-nother wash down upon fair Toronto.

  Ghost Thing and Philly were down in South Riverdale where quiet chatter lingered from every back alley nobody could see. The endless search for thuggery continued for the young, aquatic hero and his vulpine pal. Hopping across buildings and roaming the upper yer of the neighbourhood like they were aerial patrol.

  Passing by a film’s studio’s old, decrepit lot and seeing a building with its windows reflecting light from a passing set of headlights, Ghost said, “Starting to wonder if we oughta peek into windows.” He stood at the edge of a Home Hardware and drew a line with his finger down the row of buildings. “Look into each building and see anything suspicious.”

  Philly, his head poked out of the backpack, gave a trouble look. “I dunno, slick. Isn’t that an invasion of privacy?”

  An invasion of privacy? Ghost couldn’t really see it that way. He said, “I’m just trying to find the guys after me...”

  The fox tapped a paw on Ghost’s shoulder. “Let’s keep this going for awhile before you go all FBI on our delightful citizens.”

  Ghost blew a strawberry. “Fine.”

  He thought that he should have been given clearance to spy on people being that he was a superhero, but then again he was trying to get out of the game so did he even deserve those privileges anymore?

  Ghost never knew hopping around buildings to be boring, but searching a single neighbourhood for an unknown criminal organization– for the better part of a week– was on the cusp of being tedious.

  There was hope, though. Yesterday, while patrolling the area for vilins, Ghost Thing and Philly saw the shadow man that attacked Ghost a week ago. He was too far in the distance for Ghost to catch up with him before the umbral assaint disappeared, but both liquid cryptid and fox alike knew that was the top-hatted demon himself.

  Would today provide a simir sighting?

  A hail of heavy guitars and smashing drums went silent and the radio DJ came back: “And that was Type O Negative with ‘I Don’t Wanna Be Me’ just now on 98.7 CHRN. We’re gonna take a little break and then come back with Linkin Park. Don’t miss it!”

  “Ugh!” said Lombardi, spping a palm down on the seat. “Linkin Park. Why did rap music have to come to metal!?”

  Bruno was driving. The guy was so tall that his head nearly hit the roof in that small company sedan. “Company car” was what they called it but it didn’t have Dead Head’s logo or nothing; Dead Head had it around in case some of his crew needed wheels. In the passenger seat was Burrzie, baseball cap on as usual. Lombardi was in the back.

  “Quit compining back there,” said Burrzie. He took a look back. “You better not leave any garbage back there like st time.”

  Lombardi looked around to see if he left anything. There was a fast food bag in the corner– Lombardi’s lunch from earlier. He picked it up but was surprised when he felt a bit more weight than he was expecting for trash. He looked inside the bag– stained with grease– and found a treat. “Hey! Still got some onion rings in here.”

  He picked one out and chomped down on it. He hummed and nodded his head.

  Burrzie chuckled. “Enjoying those cold onion rings?”

  “Actually...” Lombardi chewed and swallowed. “Yeah. Cold onion rings do the trick. Hey– what do you think the best cold foods are? Like I’m saying; food not usually served cold.”

  Bruno chimed in. “Pizza.”

  “Macaroni sad,” said Burrzie.

  Lombardi gobbled a few more onion rings. “Noooo. It can’t be something meant to be served cold. It needs to be something that’s supposed to be hot, but even when it has cooled, it’s still good.”

  Burrzie thought for a moment, tapping the edge of his seat. “I had me some cold chicken nuggets the other day. Is that the best cold food?”

  “Pizza,” Bruno repeated.

  Lombardi nodded, wiping his hands with some spare napkins. He kept the fast food bag nearby so he wouldn’t forget it ter. “Chicken nuggets are good. Onion rings, though– I think they might be the winner.”

  “How about pie?” asked Burrzie.

  “Pie’s served cold,” said Lombardi. Reiterating his criteria, he said, “Like; if you go into a restaurant, they wouldn’t serve it cold for you.”

  Burrzie snickered. “Man, is this like a test? Is this a scientific assessment?” He saw the building down the road. “Hey, we’re here.”

  Bruno turned in to a lot beside what was once a textiles factory, years ago. Dead Head wanted to use it as a backup location for stashing product and wanted to see it was worth the effort but he intimidated the owner in allowing Dead Head’s crew to use it. Because they were trespassing, Bruno pulled into the lot and parked formally. With a flick of the keys, he shut the ignition off.

  The guys disembarked, heading towards the door off the street. There was a door towards the back but the guys figured that walking in the front would look less suspicious. They weren’t supposed to be long, anyway.

  Just then, Ghost Thing was swinging across a building nearby. Philly was in tow, feeling a little sick with all of Ghost’s jumping and hopping, but the fox was trying to toughen himself up to the rickety rides he had to endure and kept his little yapper quiet about what turns his stomach was doing.

  Ghost looked out into the horizon, and caught his eyes drifting towards the houses to the eastern parts of the neighbourhood– where he met Rafael and his family the other day. There was the temptation to sneak over there and see if his pals were home, but he knew that would have been a bad idea and kept his mind on searching for crooks.

  “A cold hamburger sounds gross,” echoed a voice from below, “All those condiments... Think what that would do to a bun!”

  With someone shouting about cold hamburgers, Ghost Thing figured it wasn’t a member of any criminal crew, but he took to the edge of the building and spied on the trio of guys. They were nothing out of the ordinary until Ghost Thing recognized the big guy in the light jacket.

  “Hey...” Ghost Thing said quietly. “I think I know that guy.”

  Philly hopped up on Ghost’s shoulder and gazed at the few of the guys as they walked down the sidewalk to the front door of the old textile building. Philly didn’t know who Ghost Thing was referencing to until the fox’s eyes rested on the big guy.

  “Yeah,” said Philly. “He was at the convenience store.”

  Ghost Thing smiled. “They’re part of the gang!” He hushed himself, excited to finally have a bite on his proverbial fishing trip. “Okay. I’m going to go talk to them.”

  Philly hopped out of the backpack and Ghost Thing took the piece off, leaving it on the rooftop floor. He watched the guys walk into the building. If it was empty, it would be a great pce to confront those folks and start a conversation.

  “Good luck, droplet,” said Philly.

  Ghost Thing gave the fox a nod, then looked around the area for how to approach. There didn’t seem to be a way into the textile building from the top, so Ghost hopped across a few streetmps to the other side of the street then, after checking to see if the sidewalks were clear, went down to the street to run up to the front doors the guys had just entered.

  The textile building was cold and lonely.

  Whoever owned the building hadn’t used it in some years. Bruno didn’t know who that was– all he knew was the guy had most of his business on the west side and this pce had been left alone for years now. The rge concrete floor was mostly empty. Old machines and shelves with dusty cardboard boxes had been pushed to the walls. The pce was quiet.

  “Is the boss going to use this as a backup base?” asked Lombardi.

  “He was thinking,” said Bruno.

  Lombardi walked to the other side of the room to a shutter door. There was a control console to its side and the idle goon tested some buttons. There was a deep click, a churn and the shutters lifted. Lombardi looked inside the room to see some kind of storage room. No door on the other side. It could have been a garage but Lombardi couldn’t figure out why a factory would need a garage inside like that.

  “There a back door there?” Burrzie shouted across the floor.

  “Nope!” Lombardi shouted back.

  Where did that door outside lead into? If product was going to slip in and out of the pce, it would be through that back entrance and Dead Head wanted the guys to do some reconnaissance on the floor pn. There was a wide opening on the far side of the wall that led to another part of the building. Bruno got walking over there to check that part of the pce when Burrzie took the guy’s sleeve; Burrzie knocking his head towards the entrance.

  Bruno turned to the door to see Ghost Thing standing there, afternoon light beaming into the window and covering the aquatic creature with an otherworldly glow.

  Ghost took a deep breath and stepped forward. “Can... can we talk?”

  Talk? Bruno wasn’t paid to talk. On the other hand, Ghost Thing likely wasn’t there just to scramble.

  Lombardi stayed by the walls. “Holy crap...” He called to Bruno. “Is that who I think it is?”

  Bruno nodded. “Yeah. It’s Ghost Thing.”

  Ghost put up his hands in a passive gesture. “I’m not here to fight! I just need to talk to... whoever runs your gang. I need to talk to them.”

  Burrzie reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone, hoping that the textile factory didn’t hurt reception. He flipped it open and tapped the number for home base. Lombardi was stuck to the wall so while the phone tried to get a signal, Burrzie cut a mean gaze over at his co-worker. “Get over here, Lombardi!”

  Lombardi’s eyes were full of terror but he found the courage to step forward. He looked around for something and saw a mop on the floor– or at least a pole for some kind of tool like a shovel or rake. Coming up beside Bruno, he said, “This guy looks freakier than Petrov! You sure we can beat him?”

  “Yeah,” said Bruno, cracking his knuckles. “He hurts. Not like most of us, but he hurts anyway.”

  Fear came over Ghost Thing. His arms dropped and he stared at Bruno and Lombardi approaching him with weapons ready.

  Burrzie groaned and csped the phone closed, taking his eyes to the liquid cryptid that decided to hop onto their premises that afternoon. “Can’t get the boss right now.”

  Bruno sneered. “That’s fine. We’ll thrash this guy then scram.”

  “I’m serious!” said Ghost, backing away from the approaching foes. “I-I just wanna talk!”

  “No talking,” said Bruno.

  Bruno rushed at Ghost and Ghost yelped and hopped into the roof. The room wasn’t very tall and even if Ghost rode around the rafters, Bruno was tall enough to reach him with a hop. Tried to grab at him Bruno did. Ghost was quick to hop across the beams but there was not a lot of room for him to jump around.

  Burrzie below couldn’t reach the interloper, but he saw a sewing machine on the floor nearby. He walked over and picked it up. It was too heavy to toss that high so Burrzie tried removing a part of it.

  They weren’t up for talking. What was Ghost Thing going to do? They were after him, so as long as Ghost stayed around, he had their attention. Maybe they would be up for talking after getting tired out?

  A top of a sewing machine flew at Ghost, smacking against the roof and barely missing his head. The mechanism fell to the ground and a crash riveted around the room.

  Maybe the guys would be up for talking after Ghost Thing beat them up.

  Ghost Thing hopped down and got ready for a fight. Lombardi was quick on him, raising the broom handle to swing at Ghost. On Lombardi’s part, it was mostly a test to see how the water elemental would handle it. Ghost side-stepped out of the way, and took a swing at Lombardi’s face. The guy wasn’t quick and Lombardi took a watery smack in the face. Nothing he couldn’t shrug off, though.

  Lombardi swept the stick upward at Ghost and smacked him on his side but it was barely a hit. Lombardi was surprised, though, that the blow felt like hitting someone made of flesh. He dodged one of Ghost’s kicks and took the stick back to prepare a much harder attack.

  Burrzie saw Ghost had his spshy feet on the ground so he ran over to get close and personal. He took a swing at Ghost, and Ghost seemed unprepared for it, but the water kid took a step back and the Burrzie’s fist grazed Ghost Thing’s face.

  Bruno was on Ghost Thing, though. He clutched his fingers between each hand and took a mighty swing at the water d. Ghost hopped back again but not enough to avoid Bruno’s blow. The pair of fists cracked Ghost Thing’s chest and knocked him back. Ghost stumbled on his feet and fell to the ground.

  The guys chuckled. Bruno smirked. “See? You can hit him like anyone else.”

  Ghost shook, but he wiped the dirt off his back as he got on his feet, gring at his opponents.

  Alright, Kay, thought Ghost Thing. It’s time to get serious.

  Ghost Thing shrunk down into a ball, like he was about to do one of his long jumps. But instead of jumping away, he fired himself at Burrzie and the slingshot snap was too quick for the fel to do anything, the ball of living water smacking into Burrzie’s body and knocking him to the ground. “Ack!” screamed Burrzie.

  As he snapped back out into his humanoid form, Ghost Thing took a quick kick at Bruno’s face. It nded, but Bruno’s jaw didn’t move a centimetre. And Bruno gave Ghost a nasty look, grabbing the liquid boy’s leg. Ghost was caught, but just for a second. He let his body loosen and his leg phased right through Bruno’s fingers. The boy fell to the floor and the water spshed down and reconnected with his body.

  Bruno groaned. “Always with your tricks!”

  Ghost got up only to have Lombardi crash his staff down Ghost’s shoulder. Ghost saw it coming and let his body soften, letting the stick to slice through living water and crack the floor below. Ghost took the opportunity to jab Lombardi in the face but even if the sound made a satisfying smack, Lombardi just looked annoyed. He took his staff back and hopped back to wipe the water out of his eyes.

  Burrzie got up off the floor. That blow must have rocked him hard, the way his body throbbed.

  Bruno took a step forward and smmed a palm into the water boy’s chest. He was knocked back but managed to catch himself before he fell. Bruno stared at the kid. Ghost Thing felt pain but he was not an easy target to take out. Bruno looked over Ghost’s shoulder at the room with the open shutter.

  He had an idea.

  Bruno let Burrzie take his side and moved behind Ghost. Ghost got wary as his opponents took three even sides on him. Bruno waited for Lombardi to attack again. When Ghost cupped his hands together and took a hefty swing at Lombardi, Bruno grabbed Ghost Thing and used the water fellow’s own momentum to toss the boy around and into the garage closet, Ghost Thing flying into the room and nding on a bunch of cardboard boxes.

  Lombardi smiled. “Ha!”

  “The door!” said Burrzie.

  Bruno smmed the SHUT button but the shutter didn’t drop quick enough. Before Ghost Thing knew it, Bruno was pulling the shutter down. The mechanism squealed with it being pulled down faster than it was meant to, but Bruno smmed the shutter close and the rubber base pressed against the concrete floor, sealing it.

  Bruno tapped a fist on the door. “That’s for the convenience store, ya pest!”

  “What now?” asked Lombardi.

  Bruno took a look outside. “We better get out of here. We were only supposed to be here for a couple minutes.”

  He knew it was unlikely that anyone in his little group was going to snuff out the water cryptid. How would that even happen? Not even the freaks on Dead Head’s team knew for certain how to kill a walking puddle. Ghost Thing felt pain but could he be killed?

  He would let Ghost get off with a warning. He leaned close to the door and said, “Let this be a lesson: don’t mess with us.”

  Ghost Thing was in a dark, dark room, trying to navigate around with his hands, knees bumping against cardboard boxes. Only slivers of light came in from the crack at the bottom of the door but Ghost didn’t think he could slide through there. The opening was too narrow.

  And then Bruno, Burrzie, and Lombardi were out. They went out the way they came.

  As they left, a couple seconds passed and Philly came in the same door. Philly ran up to the shudders.

  “Kid?” he called. “Ghost Thing?”

  “I’m in here!” Ghost shouted through the shutter. “Open the door, could ya?”

  Philly looked at the panel. It was just tall enough off the ground that Philly couldn’t reach it so he looked around for something to stand on. He got tugging the boxes around the floor to see if any were light enough to drag below the control panel. A few were pretty heavy but he found one that was rather light but still sturdy enough to use as a stool.

  “You out there still!?” Ghost asked, worry in his voice.

  “Cmmnnng!” Philly shouted with cardboard in his mouth.

  There was an ignition outside and a car pulling away. Bruno and his crew were out of there.

  Philly pushed the box underneath the panel and hopped up. There was a big button with OPEN on the front so Philly spped a paw onto it and the shutter rattled, lifting off the ground.

  Ghost Thing couldn’t wait to get out of there. He slipped through a couple inches of opening and popped out onto the main floor. He took a look out the window. “Where are they?”

  “They left already,” said Philly, hopping off the box.

  “Shoot!” said Ghost Thing.

  He ran to the door and went back outside. He looked down every road he could see, looking for any cars but he couldn’t remember what the guys were driving for the life of him and he didn’t recognize any vehicles fading into the distance.

  Philly caught up outside, taking a pce beside Ghost Thing.

  Ghost Thing sighed. He gnced down at Philly. “I was thinking... I could follow their car back to their hideout.”

  Philly chuckled. “Yeah...” He patted a paw on Ghost Thing’s leg. “Next time.”

  Ghost was exposed out there. “Want to get out of here?”

  “Let’s,” said Philly.

  Ghost Thing hopped up to where they left the backpack and Philly scurried across the street to try and find a way back up there as well.

  Another afternoon brought them closer to the truth, but not close enough.