Eve closed the front door. It swung open again in the breeze. “I think we’re going to need a new door.”

“I think we’re going to need Home Depot.”

“Do they sell stakes at Home Depot here?” Claire asked. Shane and Eve looked blank. “Dumb question. Never mind.”

17

Cleanup took pretty much all day, what with the broken furniture, the shattered windows, the front and back doors, and hauling Claire’s damaged mattress out to the curb. They were just sitting down to dinner when the sun went behind the horizon, and Claire heard the sound of a body hitting the floor, followed by dry retching.

“Michael’s home,” Eve said, as if he’d just come back from school. “You guys dig in.”

It took a while before she came back with Michael. Holding hands. Shane got up, smiling, and held up his hand. Michael high-fived it.

“Not bad, brother,” Michael said. “The girls gave you enough time for the switch.”

“Even though they didn’t know. Yeah. Worked out,” Shane said, pleased. “See? My plans don’t all suck. Just most of them.”

“So long as we keep on being able to tell the difference.” Michael pulled up a chair. “What’s for—oh, you’re kidding me. Chili?”

“Nobody wanted to go to the store.”

“Yeah, I guess.” Michael closed his eyes. “I’m saying a prayer. Maybe you ought to, too. It’s going to take us a miracle to get through this.”

Whether he was serious or not, Claire sent the prayer up toward heaven, and she thought the others did, too. So it seemed kind of miraculous when the doorbell rang.

“At least they’re getting more polite when they try to kill us,” Shane said. Michael got up and went to the door. After a second’s hesitation, they all got up and followed.

Michael swung the new door open. Outside, in the glow of the porch light, stood a middle-aged man with a scraggly beard and a huge scar down one side of his face, dressed in black motorcycle leather. Behind him were two more guys, not quite as old and a whole lot bigger and meaner-looking.

Bikers. Claire nearly choked on her bite of chili.

The man nodded.

“Son,” he said, looking past Michael right at Shane. “Got your message. Cavalry’s here.” He walked right in, past the threshold, and ignored Michael like he wasn’t even there. “About time you got your ass in gear. Been waiting for you to call for six damn months. What kept you? Took you this long to find the head bloodsucker?”

They followed him into the living room. Michael turned to look at Shane, who was turning red. Not meeting anybody’s eyes, really. “Things have changed, Dad,” he mumbled.