“No dead ones,” I said. Then I said, “No dead ones…at least there weren’t any…oh, shit. We got to get there.” The feeling of dread that had blossomed in my head now bloomed in full. I didn’t speak to anyone again.

We got into the patrol car and onto the road within five minutes. There wasn’t much traffic and the roads were a hell of a lot clearer, but it was still a good twenty-minute drive into Doraville, then another ten minutes through the town to the street where the Almands lived.

Instead of creeping up to the barn from the rear of the property as we’d done yesterday, we pulled into the driveway by the aging frame house, and I got out as quickly as I could. My muscles were sorer today than they’d been the previous day, and I was skipping the pain medicine, so I was feeling everything I did.

Tolliver put his arm around my waist to help me along, and we stumbled down the remains of the drive that led beyond the house to the barn. I could catch a glimpse of Manfred’s car on the track that ran behind the property.

And I felt the vibration, the stirring in my head. A very fresh body. “Oh, no,” I said, “oh no no no.” I began to run, and Tolliver had to grip me under my shoulder to keep me up. The sheriff caught fire when she saw my distress and she and the deputy pulled ahead of us easily. She drew her gun, and I don’t even know if she realized she was doing it.

We all screeched to halt when we entered the dilapidated barn.

Tom Almand was standing in front of the stalls at the rear of the barn. He had a shovel in his hands. About three yards in front of him, Manfred was keeping to his feet with great effort. He was bleeding from the head. Manfred had his own weapon, a short-handled spade. It was so shiny and new I suspected Manfred had bought it that very morning, maybe on the way to the barn. He hadn’t gotten in a lick yet.

“Tom, put the shovel down,” the sheriff said.

“Tell him first,” Tom Almand said. “He came in here to attack me.”

“Not true,” Manfred said.

“I mean, look at him, he’s a freak,” Tom said. There was a snarl on his narrow face. “I live here.”

“Tom, put down the shovel. Now.”

“There’s a human body here,” I said. “There’s a body here now.” I just wanted to be clear they understood. I just wanted them to get that asshole Tom Almand out of the way.

Manfred took two more steps back from Tom, and put his spade on the floor.

And Tom ran at Manfred with his shovel raised to strike.