Things went on with us. When I wasn't dealin' crack on the streets, I went to these Quarrymen rallies we held in the park. We also went on patrols with our hammers in case these busters decided to show up. Aside from that, other stuff happened like Thanksgiving- n loved Thanksgiving on Seville Street, with the turkey and the stuffin' and the stuff like that. And of course, I told the homies about how hunted that gargoyle.

"And that bitch was protectin' him?" asked my homie Wheezy. "she must be into some freaky shit!"

"You got that right!" said another Granitor.

And then, in December, there was this time went we went gargoyle hunting. We were out late at night. We managed to spot it.

We Quarrymen started attacking it with hammers.

It was that big tubby green one, the same one that attacked us Granitors when we were trying to avenge Stretch in a drive-by!

We all knew its other homies might be flying their way here now. Id've just killed this buster right here on the street, but Mr. Castaway wanted a living gargoyle.

And sure en ough, they did. They attacked this blue van.

But that wasn't where the gargoyle was.

Instead, some of my homies from Seville Street wrapped it in steel cable and stuffed it into the trunk of this 1970's model Chevy- the ones with the huge trunks.

I was behind the wheel, and I drove it to the warehouse. mr. Castaway himself was waitin' for us.

Of course, he paid my homies lots of paper, like thousands for each. A couple of the Quarrymen took out that buster and fastenesd its arms an d legs and tail onto this iron circle thing.

I helped the others move that thing into the warehouse.

We did feed the thing crackers and shit like that. I had to admit, it was better than the food they served in juvie hall.

"Why do you hate me?" he asked.

I looked at him; he sounded like a dude. "Because you stuck your stupid nose into our business. We were trying to pay back the Ice Boyz for what they did to Stretch, and you got in the way!"

"So you're a gangbanger, and the gargoyles are just a rival gang to you."

"This is our turf, buster. I'd kill you right here, right now if Mr. Castaway didn't want you alive for tomorrow night!"

In looked at my watch. It was getting close to sunrise; I could even tell through the rooftop windows.

And then the gargoyle changed color to a sort of gray. I touched him.

He was stone!

"I think we can call it a day, young Cedric," said Mr. Castaway. "Better get some sleep for tomorrow."

And so I did.

The Quarrymen next had a rally at about 4:00 at Central Park, near Columbus Circle. So many of us were there. I saw some of the Granitors there, representin' with their green sweat jackets. We even hired a DJ to play some music, and there were all these balloons.

And on a stage was that iron circular thing holding the gargoyle, who was still stone. I stood there, wearin' my hood, guarding him, like the guards at juvie.

Then some people pushed their way to the front. they were flashing badges.

"We have a permit here," said Mr. Castaway. "But you know that."

"What about him?" asked this red-haired man.

"That really is a gargoyle. We captured one, which was supposed to be your job."

"He's not a suspect in any crime," said this black-haired lady.

I recognized her as the lady that defended that other gargoyle! I knew better than to hit her with anything- for now.

The sky was getting darker.

I looked and saw cracks on the gargoyle. His eyes glowed, and he roared.

"I'm alive?" he asked. "Where am I?"

"Central Park, near Columbus Circle," said the red-haired detective.

"And here you have it," said Castaway. "One of the monsters, right here."

"Get out!" yelled someone in the crowd.

I held the handle of my hammer. One word from Castaway, and I would waste this buster right then and there!

Castaway looked towards the cameras in the distance. "I know you are watching," he said. "If you want to save your friend's life here, show yourself and surrender."

"And if they're not here?" asked the lady.

"I suppose we can put him down..unless you think it's murder. Can you make a murder charge stick if my friend here bludgeons this creature to death?"

"So why not let him speak?" asked the red-haired detective.

"let him speak?" asked Castaway.

"Evertyone here gathered to see a gargoyle. Why not let him address his adoring fans?"

I stood back and listened.

"Hi there," said the gargoyle. "I'm...Call me Broadway."

Broadway? I looked at him.

It figures.

"It's nice to see you all here, but I really don't like being restrained here. Could you let me go?" he continued

"We want your friends to arrive here."

"Listen you. I know why you're afraid. You don't know me. I remember when I...humans first saw me waking from stone. I...they were startled. I'm not going to hurt you. We want to protect the people of Manhattan."

"We know you've attacked humans!" said George.

"They were attacking others- humans and gargoyles. We don't attack those who don't start something."

"And since when were you a cop?" asked someone.

I looked and saw this blond-haired lady. She walked up to the stage; the two police detectives looked like they knew her.

"Yale?" asked the gargoyle.

"You know me? Well, I guess even gargoyles can read newspapers. And who said you can protect the people of Manhattan? Since when did the NYPD hire you? Or do work for the FBI or the U.S. marshal's service? You have a badge?"

"You'd be surprised at the answer."

"Are you friends coming, monster?" Castaway asked the buster.

I held up my hammer. "What kind of gang is that if they don't stick up for a homie?" I asked. "Is your gang coming to save you? Even the Ice Boyz wouldn't leave a homie high and dry like that." I looked up at the sky. "Come on down, you busters! We're here to give you a welcome you all deserve!"

"Yes, our Quarrymen are very enthusiastic," Mr. Castaway said to the gargoyle. "We are not alone, and we are ready for you."

And we waited.

"Kill him!" I heard from the crowd.

They wanted blood.

It was like how I wanted the blood of the Ice Boyz after they killed Stretch.

"The crowd has spoken," said Castaway. "Let's put down this animal. If you will, George."

"Yes, sir," replied George. He pumped his hammer.

and then that red-haired detective pushed him.

the electrified head of the hammer struck the iron circle thing.

I heard that buster scream this inhuman scream, drowning out the chants from the crowd.

And then he done broke out from, his restraints. I pumped my own hammer, ready to take this buster on!

He then lifted up that huge iron circle thing, which must have weighed like a hundred tons or something! I simply got out of the way. No one in the crowd wanted to try to stop him.

He put that thing down once he was clear of the rally and ran right towards Columbus Circle!

There was nothing for us to do except shake the spot.