“That’s just it,” Hattie said. “They aren’t alive.” She left the window and sat on the couch across from me. “Waverly and I shot them in the chest enough to kill any normal person. These things didn’t even notice that we hit them.”

Charles stared at her with creased eyebrows. “You mean, they can’t die?”

“They can,” she said. “You just have to shoot them in the head. Destroy whatever brain function they might have that keeps them going. Waverly and I finally managed to kill one today.”

Charles nodded thoughtfully and turned back to the window, but this time he let out a gasp.

“Don’t move!” Hattie whispered a little too loudly.

Charles stood like a statue as he found himself face-to-face with a greyskin at the window. The creature stared into the glass, tilting its head from side to side almost as if to study what it was looking at. I could see Charles holding his breath, but he couldn’t hold it forever. With each little breath, the window began to fog.

I don’t know what it was - a twitch, a noise - but the greyskin went ballistic, letting out a loud groan as it smashed its hand through the glass and reached for Charles’ shirt. The greyskin had taken him by surprise and it latched on to him, pulling him forward against the glass. Hattie brought up her gun, but hesitated because she feared she might hit her husband. Charles tried to wrench free and Lucas jumped forward to grab his father, but the greyskin had a good hold on him. It pulled Charles forward until his torso was pressed against the broken glass, the edges cutting into his skin.

“Shoot it!” he yelled, “shoot it!”

I jumped forward, standing next to Charles as I brought the handgun in front of the greyskin and shot it through the forehead. Charles instantly fell back onto Lucas as the creature’s arms and fingers went limp. Blood covered Charles’ chest, stomach and arms.

“We have to get to the truck,” he said as he pulled himself up.

“Charles, you’re bleeding everywhere!” Hattie said.

“It’s nothing too deep,” he said reaching down for his rifle. “And it didn’t bite me, so I can’t be infected.”

A crash at another window jolted us to attention. Hattie lifted her gun and shot the greyskin through the brain, but it was only replaced by more. They were starting to surround the house.

It felt like earlier when I was at my own house: a reserved panic. Hattie had thought that her house had been isolated enough to escape this virus, this sickness that plagued mankind. But this only confirmed that there never had been an escape and to think so was foolish.