Junkyard — Barry Porter

There was something living in the old junkyard. Something with yellow eyes that glowed among the mountains of mangled metal. Something with long, sharp teeth and a thirst for fresh, warm blood. And the intelligence to wait for its prey with patience and unearthly cunning…

The boys loved hanging out together in the junkyard -- that's why they built the Pit, their secret clubhouse. But lately it wasn't the same. Maybe they were getting too old for kid stuff…or maybe it was the Pit that was changing. Sometimes it felt kinda scary…like they didn't belong there…like someone was just waiting for them to leave the safety of the Pit for the dark, twisted corridors of the JUNKYARD