What was all this about the ghouls coming to murder the boys?

“Ghouls,” Tammy yelled, her head thrown back, her voice reverberating throughout the ancient barn, “where are you? We’ve got your two treats for you, just what you like-two really sweet boys! Little Bloods, both of them. Bring your knives and axes! Come here, Ghouls.”

It was a chant, growing louder as she repeated herself once, twice, then three times. Each time, her voice was louder, more vicious, the words ridiculous, really, except for the underlying terror they carried.

Tammy Tuttle kicked one of the boys, hard, when he tried to crawl out of the circle. Savich knew he had to act soon. Where were these ghouls?

He heard something, something that was different from the mad human voices, like a high whine, sort of a hissing sound that didn’t belong here, maybe didn’t belong anywhere. He felt gooseflesh rise on his arms. He felt a shock of cold. He was on the point of leaping out when, to his utter astonishment, the huge front barn doors whooshed inward, blinding light flooded in, and in the middle of that light were dust devils that looked like small tornadoes. The white light faded away, and the dust devils looked more like two whirling, white cones, distinct from each other, spinning and twisting, riding up then dipping down, blending together, then separating-no, no, they were just dust devils, still white because they hadn’t sucked up the dirt yet from the barn floor. But what was that sound he heard? Something strange, something he couldn’t identify. Laughter? No, that was crazy, but that was what registered in his brain.

The boys saw the dust devils, whirling and spinning far above them, and started screaming. Rob jumped up, grabbed his older brother, and managed to jerk him out of the circle.

Tammy Tuttle, who’d been looking up, turned suddenly, raised her knife, and yelled, “Get back down, Little Bloods! Don’t you dare anger the Ghouls. Get back in the circle, now! GET BACK DOWN!”