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here? How could they be in the first place and what is their connection to this town? Questions we’ll probably never answer.”
    Reg was checking over the woodpile. “We’ve got an axe,” he said, “and this thing.” He held up a fireplace poker that looked like something used to skewer hogs. It was wrought-iron silverplate, heavy, and lethal-looking. “Whatever it is.”
    Doc nodded, checking the blade of the broadhead axe and seeing it was indeed sharp. “So we have a few weapons then. Now, my knowledge of the supernal is more literary than folkloric…but am I wrong in thinking that such creatures fear fire?”
    “Yeah. I think so.”
    “So, we have an arsenal at our disposal. That’s a plus.”
    “You don’t know tit,” Burt said.
    “Ah, jeers from the cheap seats,” Doc said. “Well, maybe not, but I do think fire will work to our advantage. Let’s gather every stick we can find in case of a siege. Does that sound reasonable to you, Burt?”
    “I guess.”
    “Good, then. Two of us will go, one stays with Bailey.”
    “Me and Reg’ll do it,” Burt said.
    As they went to the door, Doc said, “Remember something, Burt. It’s not just your life now, but all of ours. We survive by cooperating. We need each other. If we support and watch over each other, we’re going to survive. You may want to keep that in mind.”
    He gave Reg a look and they understood each other.
    Burt went out into the corridor with a kerosene lantern. “You’re just fucking full of yourself,” he muttered.
    That I am, Doc thought as he secured the door after them.
    Seeing the despairing look on Bailey’s face, he sat down by her and said, “Did I ever tell you of my experiences in experimental nudist free-form theater in California? I didn’t? Well, imagine if you can: the lights going down, a full house packed with swinging penises and jiggling breasts. I step onto the stage, glistening and naked, as King Lear…”
     
    16
    “I’m just saying that asshole is full of his own shit,” Burt said to Reg as they climbed the stairs to the second floor to harvest more wood. “And I’m getting a little sick of it.”
    “Man, just relax. You don’t have to love him or anything. All we have to do is make it until dawn. Now just quit worrying about that stuff. Damn.”
    Reg knew it was going to start soon as they left Doc and Bailey. He knew Burt was going to start with his shit, trying to splinter things, divide and conquer. That’s the kind of guy he was and Reg didn’t have a lot of patience for that shit on a good day— it reminded him of all the assholes he’d went to school with, their cliques and divisions—let alone tonight. Things had happened that he couldn’t sufficiently wrap his brain around. It was all so unreal, so freaky and warped, he couldn’t even begin to make sense of it. Vampires. Shit. It was all too much. He kept expecting Morris to come through the front door, telling everyone it was a gag, hidden cameras and behind-the-scenes chiz for some Halloween episode of Chamber of Horrors. Some whacked-out Blair Witch Project kind of thing.
    He kept waiting for it and hoping for it.
    But he knew by that point it just wasn’t going to happen.
    Mole was dead. Fucking Mole. They were like best friends and all. Reg kept telling himself not to think about it and what had gotten him or things were going to get ugly and he was going to have some real problems.
    So he was fighting. Fighting to keep it together and not go to pieces and crawl into some shadowy corner within himself where it was calm, cool, and safe.
    Burt led the way up the stairs, holding the lantern out in front of him.
    Reg was a few steps behind with the fireplace poker.
    He could hear the wind moaning out there and he hoped to God that’s all it was, just the wind and not them , not those things out there because he just wanted them to go away.
    At the top of the stairs, Burt paused. He cocked his head. The lantern threw crazy shadows