The revolver kept a steady aim on Eddie's chest. Danny's arm never wavered, while his bare feet moved down the stairs without a sound.

He may have dressed in a hurry, but considering his intense paranoia, it made more sense that he didn't want to be caught naked when his enemies came for him, and he had only removed his sock and his heavy work shirt when he went to bed.

The fire had died down during the night, and the room was too cold to be wearing only jeans and a T-shirt. But it didn't seem to bother him. His rage had likely raised his body temperature several degrees.

Just before he reached the bottom, he called out, "Alvin, get your lazy ass down here."

Denton's attention was immediately drawn to the thumps and clatters coming from upstairs. There was a loud squeak of unoiled hinges and then Alvin stumbled out onto the landing in nothing but his boxers.

"What's going on?" he asked, in a groggy voice.

"Looks like we have a traitor." The last word was accentuated by the creak of a wide maple floorboard as it took his weight. He kept the same precision gait, heading through the seating area to Eddie. "It's not like that." Eddie held his hands up limply. It wasn't so much a sign of surrender, as it was one of defenselessness.

"Listen, I can explain," Denton said.

Danny took the gun off Eddie and swung it around toward Denton. The muscles in his arm and neck were strained and protruded from his skin like the rigid roots of a tree.

"If you say one more fucking word, I'll shoot you in your fucking face."

Without conscious thought, Denton backed up and put a dining room chair between him and the pistol.

"He wants to help," Eddie said. The barrel swiveled back to him. Danny took a few predatory steps forward. "What you didn't think I couldn't hear you up there? Didn't think stupid Danny would hear you plotting against him? Hmm? All it took was a few minutes of his venom and you turn your back on us."

There was something oddly calculating about the way Alvin was creeping down the stairs. Until now, the redhead had only shown signs of rambunctious action. Was this a situation he didn't want to get in the middle of? Or did he sense some unseen threat? The expression on his face was inscrutable.

"I didn't turn my back on anyone. We're all on the same side. He can get the police to help. We don't have to fight them alone anymore." Danny forced a laugh and then in a mocking voice said, "The police will help. Yeah, right. They'll lock us up so fast your head will spin. And then the invaders will be free to overrun the town." "But we can't do it on our own."

"Yes, we can. We've done it all on our own. We almost have it contained. There are only a few more of them left."

Alvin stopped just behind Danny. His eyes darted from one friend to the other, as each of them spoke. Did he have conflicting loyalties? Might he side with Eddie and disarm Danny?

Whatever he was thinking, all of his attention was on the other two. And all of Danny's attention was squarely on Eddie. It didn't take Denton more than a second to determine there was only one potential way out. The front door and the stairs were blocked. The bathroom was a dead end. He'd never get a window open fast enough. That left the dark gulf of the hallway. Framed with roughhewn boards, the opening sat between the living and the dining area. He had no idea what was down there or where it led. The lights had always been off and his myopic vision was unable to penetrate it. But it was his only hope.

He took a slow, tentative step toward it. His gaze was firmly locked on Danny and Alvin, trying to detect any twitch—any sign that they might turn towards him.

"Look." Eddie's voice was pleading with a raw edge that reminded Denton of the emotional outburst he had when they spoke about his mother. "Just put the gun down, alright."

"No, it's not alright. Alvin, help our friend here into that chair." He gestured to one, a few feet from the gun rack. It had dark wooden arms and the back was upholstered with a large needlepoint of a wild goose taking flight.

"I'll go on my own," Eddie said, but Alvin didn't break stride.

He grabbed him brutally by both forearms and yanked Eddie toward the chair. The force lifted his feet off of the ground and he was hauled away from the front door. Eddie fought to get away, leaning his whole body backward, but Alvin's hands gripped him like clamps.

This was the malice that Denton had come to expect from the big man. Perhaps his earlier hesitance was only lingering fatigue.

The hallway inched closer.

Alvin tensed his muscles and braced his legs to prepare for his next tug. He looked like he was getting ready to fling Eddie across the room. But before he could, Eddie acted. In one swift instant, he stopped struggling, the resistance in Alvin's arms pulled him in close, and his knee made contact with the crotch of the striped boxers.

The blow made no noise, but the room was filled with the sharp intake of breath followed by a bellow. "You son-of-bitch!"

Alvin recoiled. His hands automatically went to his groin. He doubled over and took an off balance step backward. Eddie charged at him, easily sending him sprawling on the floor.

"Keep your damn hands off of me," Eddie screamed down at him. Danny didn't say a word. He just moved in, closer to Eddie. He hyperextended his arm and thrust the gun out, as though the few extra inches made it a more deadly weapon.

Denton stopped moving. The void in the wall was directly behind him.

"Cut the shit. You're not going to shoot me. We've been friends since kindergarten." The pleading was gone. Anger was in its place, fired up by the sudden physical conflict.

"Friendship has nothing to do with it. This is war. We're talking about the survival of the human race."

Alvin slowly pulled himself up off the floor, using an end table for support. Raw hatred exuded from his being, but he hung back watching to see what Danny would do.

"Have you forgotten? I am human." "You're a traitor. To us and to humanity."

The raspy sound of his own breathing filled Denton's ears. Despite the boy's crimes, he didn't want to see him gunned down before his eyes. He felt as if he should call out or say something— create a distraction and buy Eddie a bit more time. How much time would it take Danny to turn and shoot him? How much time would that buy?

Danny would have no problem killing him. He had plenty of blood on his hands already. He wouldn't hesitate. But he was hesitating—with Eddie.

If he wanted Eddie dead, he would have done it already. He really did not want to pull that trigger. He was looking for a reason not to. Denton wished he could somehow communicate this to Eddie. If he only kept talking, he might make it through this. But the boy was on his own.

Instead of saying anything, he tried to slow his breathing and keep to the plan. Whether it was intentional or not, it was Eddie who was buying him time.

"I bet he's been infected," Alvin said, goading Danny. He hovered just behind the freckle faced boy. His head was bent low to talk directly in his ear. It was reminiscent of the old image of a devil perched on someone's shoulder.

Was that why he had hesitated on the stairs? Had he been trying to work out how this might benefit him? Perhaps he saw this as his opportunity to move up to the number two spot.

Danny shifted the position of his sweaty hand on the gun's grip, without lowering the barrel. "Maybe you have changed. Is that why you untied him?"

"It's me, Danny." Staring down the barrel only inches from his face was putting a quiver in his voice and in his knees. "I looked at the circles this morning. The same as the two of you. You saw."

"He's not human. Shoot him," Alvin urged.

Danny ignored the taunt. "So why betray us? Tell me. I'd like to know."

Denton took his first cautious step, backwards into the darkness. He gently placed the toe of his right foot just behind his left. Then he gradually lowered his foot until the heel was flat on the floor. Every movement was slow and deliberate. There was no way he was going to risk the soles of his boots clicking or squeaking on the floor.

"I didn't betray anyone. I was trying to save us. We were going to get help. Just think how fast we could put an end to this if we had the police and the army on our side. We can't keep it secret forever. We can't start killing real people."

"Do you remember that first night? Do you?" His last two words were accented with matching stabs of the gun. "Do you remember how your mother fought?"

"Don't." The word was a warning. Eddie clearly did not want to remember that night any more than the guilt already forced the memories to haunt him.

"Shoot him now, Danny."

Toe to heel. Toe to heel.

"If I hadn't shown up you'd be dead, or you'd be one of them now. But I did show up. I got her off of you. I threw her down the stairs. Remember?"

"Please, don't." His anger was melting away.

Denton hazarded taking his eyes off of Danny and looked down the hallway. The milk white glow of two windows floated in the dim haze behind him. He turned and left the scene of his abduction and the three boys.

"But that didn't stop her, did it? We spent half the night tracking her. It took all three of us to take her down. Remember?"

"Stop," Eddie wailed.

"Kill him before he jumps you. You know how quickly they can move," Alvin whispered like a snake. Even hushed, the words followed Denton down the corridor.

"Remember the vow we took that night. To stop them at all costs. And to keep it secret! Remember? And you just throw it all away and risk everything. Why? For what? For him?"

There was a beat of silence. Denton held his breath. He stood on the threshold of a kitchen. The soft illumination of the first light of a gray dawn came from a window over the sink and from one in the back door.

"Alvin, you moron. Get him!" Danny snarled.

Denton groped his way past the counter and the breakfast table. His hip knocked a chair aside, but stealth was no longer an option. Speed was the only thing that mattered now. He reached the door and started fumbling with the locks. There were two deadbolts and one on the handle. He turned them all and tried to yank the door open. It wouldn't budge.

In a panic, he ran his fingers over the locks. What had gone wrong? Was there one he missed? No, that wasn't it. He had only twisted one deadbolt away from the frame. The other hadn't been locked. He turned it back to its original position. The door opened. Icy air welcomed him through the widening gap. He inhaled gratefully.

A hand grabbed him by the back of his head and slammed him against the door, shutting it closed again. He was let go, and he fell backwards onto the floor. Blood ran down his face, blinding him.

Alvin got on top of him, one knee on his chest. He grabbed Denton by the jaw. The massive hand seemed to encompass the entire lower half of his face.

"Now for some fun." Alvin started to squeeze.

Denton struggled to break free while agony ripped through his mind. Already closed to keep the blood from burning them, his eyes clenched tight. He could feel the shift in Alvin's weight as he drew his arm back. He braced for the blow. Off in the distance there was a strange tinkling sound followed by a rattling. And then he heard it again, this time closer.

Bells? Why would there be bells?

The punch didn't come. The pressure on his face eased.

He opened his eyes and saw that Alvin was staring at something over his right shoulder. His arm was still cranked back, but it was beginning to droop. A look of bewilderment drained the violence from his face.

The room was filling with smoke.