Description
There's a food stand over there, I said pointing. A horror in purple apron leaned against a small cart. We hurried over to it. A sign on top of the cart read, Fingers Great! You got chicken fingers? Luke asked the horror. She shook her head, No, just fingers I lowered my eyes to the cart. Steam rose up. I saw a pile of fingers toasting inside human fingers. They're pretty good with ketchup, the horror rasped.