the crowd out the back
of the house into the yard, and I tag along, rising on my tiptoes
to get a glimpse of Emily.
A couple of people give me curious
looks, but no one questions me.
When we finally emerge onto a spacious
back patio, Emily stands alone in the middle of the dance floor,
looking lost.
Why isn't her mom out there with
her?
Then the microphone squeals and music
starts. A half-muscular, half-portly guy with a dark mustache joins
Emily and guides her into a slow waltz. At least I think it's a
waltz, but I'm not a dance aficionado, so I don't really
know.
Her eyes sparkle as they turn, but I
think it’s a trick of the light. She doesn’t look happy. In fact…
are those tears? I've never seen Emily cry, not even when her dad
died.
I want to rescue her, but I also know
how worried she was about getting this thing right for her mom. No
matter how much she protests, I know she loves her mom.
So I wait.
When she stumbles out of the dance, I
will the old dude with her—another uncle?—to swing her into an
exaggerated twirl, like it was planned.
But he doesn't.
And she starts to panic.
And that's when everything goes
wrong.
Beside me, something big crashes
through one of the picture windows.
In the glow of the twinkle lights, a
dude lands in a crouch in the middle of a million shards of glass.
I see the glistening fangs and the sharp planes of his face, and my
heart starts pumping.
It's a monster, just like the one that
attacked Emily in the parking garage.
Another crash, another window broken,
another person…monster…coming through it.
Someone screams.
Another monster climbs out of the
house. Through the windows, I see more shadows moving inside. More
monsters?
And a ton of guests out here. Sitting
ducks.
How did they get in? Did they walk in,
just like I had?
Several of the men, Emily’s relatives,
seem suddenly armed. Knives? Like they expected this? Ignoring
their fancy suits, they launch themselves at the
monsters.
At least the monsters don't seem
particularly interested in the women. There are only a few, Emily's
mom included.
I run toward Emily and her mother.
"This way," I shout as more monsters pour out of the house into the
yard.
I motion Emily's mom and the other
ladies around the side of the house, where I know there's a side
door. Maybe they can run to the vehicles in front. Anything is
better than being back here.
I turn back to the fight. The monsters
don't seem to be paying attention to me. One has made its way out
on to the parquet floor with Emily, though, and that's a
mistake.
No one hurts my girl.
Remembering how powerful the things
were in the parking garage, I glance around for anything I can use
as a weapon.
There's a buffet table between me and
the dance floor. I rush to it and find a large carving knife and a
long steel rod like chefs use to sharpen their knives. It's not
ideal, but it'll do.
"Emily!" I shout.
She is in the tail end of a spinning
kick that sends the guy she's fighting backwards several steps. Her
head whips my direction, and I see the momentary surprise on her
face before I toss the knife to her.
She catches it out of the air, by the
handle, and uses the momentum to drive it into the guy's face.
Blood spurts, and he goes down.
I'm rounding the table to join her when
someone rushes me from the side. I get a glimpse of razor-sharp
fangs, and it's enough for me to duck and throw my shoulder toward
the thing. It wasn't expecting it and tumbles over me.
I bring the makeshift steel weapon down
and slice it into the guy's gut. A mortal wound.
I stand up, bringing the bloody weapon
with me, but the guy roars and rolls over, then pushes to his hands
and knees.
What. The. Heck.
"Brett!"
Emily rushes to me, seems to register
than I'm motionless with shock, and stabs the guy through the back
of his ribcage.
He collapses on his face, and this
time, he doesn't get up.
"What are you doing here?" she asks,
panting with exertion. She’s lost the high
of the house into the yard, and I tag along, rising on my tiptoes
to get a glimpse of Emily.
A couple of people give me curious
looks, but no one questions me.
When we finally emerge onto a spacious
back patio, Emily stands alone in the middle of the dance floor,
looking lost.
Why isn't her mom out there with
her?
Then the microphone squeals and music
starts. A half-muscular, half-portly guy with a dark mustache joins
Emily and guides her into a slow waltz. At least I think it's a
waltz, but I'm not a dance aficionado, so I don't really
know.
Her eyes sparkle as they turn, but I
think it’s a trick of the light. She doesn’t look happy. In fact…
are those tears? I've never seen Emily cry, not even when her dad
died.
I want to rescue her, but I also know
how worried she was about getting this thing right for her mom. No
matter how much she protests, I know she loves her mom.
So I wait.
When she stumbles out of the dance, I
will the old dude with her—another uncle?—to swing her into an
exaggerated twirl, like it was planned.
But he doesn't.
And she starts to panic.
And that's when everything goes
wrong.
Beside me, something big crashes
through one of the picture windows.
In the glow of the twinkle lights, a
dude lands in a crouch in the middle of a million shards of glass.
I see the glistening fangs and the sharp planes of his face, and my
heart starts pumping.
It's a monster, just like the one that
attacked Emily in the parking garage.
Another crash, another window broken,
another person…monster…coming through it.
Someone screams.
Another monster climbs out of the
house. Through the windows, I see more shadows moving inside. More
monsters?
And a ton of guests out here. Sitting
ducks.
How did they get in? Did they walk in,
just like I had?
Several of the men, Emily’s relatives,
seem suddenly armed. Knives? Like they expected this? Ignoring
their fancy suits, they launch themselves at the
monsters.
At least the monsters don't seem
particularly interested in the women. There are only a few, Emily's
mom included.
I run toward Emily and her mother.
"This way," I shout as more monsters pour out of the house into the
yard.
I motion Emily's mom and the other
ladies around the side of the house, where I know there's a side
door. Maybe they can run to the vehicles in front. Anything is
better than being back here.
I turn back to the fight. The monsters
don't seem to be paying attention to me. One has made its way out
on to the parquet floor with Emily, though, and that's a
mistake.
No one hurts my girl.
Remembering how powerful the things
were in the parking garage, I glance around for anything I can use
as a weapon.
There's a buffet table between me and
the dance floor. I rush to it and find a large carving knife and a
long steel rod like chefs use to sharpen their knives. It's not
ideal, but it'll do.
"Emily!" I shout.
She is in the tail end of a spinning
kick that sends the guy she's fighting backwards several steps. Her
head whips my direction, and I see the momentary surprise on her
face before I toss the knife to her.
She catches it out of the air, by the
handle, and uses the momentum to drive it into the guy's face.
Blood spurts, and he goes down.
I'm rounding the table to join her when
someone rushes me from the side. I get a glimpse of razor-sharp
fangs, and it's enough for me to duck and throw my shoulder toward
the thing. It wasn't expecting it and tumbles over me.
I bring the makeshift steel weapon down
and slice it into the guy's gut. A mortal wound.
I stand up, bringing the bloody weapon
with me, but the guy roars and rolls over, then pushes to his hands
and knees.
What. The. Heck.
"Brett!"
Emily rushes to me, seems to register
than I'm motionless with shock, and stabs the guy through the back
of his ribcage.
He collapses on his face, and this
time, he doesn't get up.
"What are you doing here?" she asks,
panting with exertion. She’s lost the high
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