We ran out the front door and into the mud and rain. Hail slapped against the gravel drive, pocking the car. Horace would have a fit if he could see this, I thought. And then I realized he could see it, that he was fully goddamn aware of it, and that terrified me. I felt it all the way through my body, the terror of my stepdad the murderer, the one who had chased us all the way here, the one who would probably kill us dead for what we knew about him.

We were nearly to the car when lightning crashed above us and a brief flash illuminated the driveway. A black-cloaked figure stood next to the Trans Am, unmoving, rain lashing down around him. Something metal glinted in his hand—a gun or a knife, I couldn’t tell. His face was hidden in shadow, but it had to be Horace. Who else could it be? He must have beaten us down here. We froze, barely twenty feet of gravel drive between us and Horace.

“What do we do?” said Murphy.

“The barn,” said Grandma.

“Are you serious?” said Murphy.

Horace took a step toward us.

“There’s no time for this shit,” I said. “Run!”

We took off around the side of the house, toward the back lot. Grandma kept up with Murphy and me just fine. Maybe it was the rain and mud, or maybe she was just in that good of shape. Grandma was like that—stronger than she looked, swifter and smarter and faster. Grandma always had a plan.

“There’s a radio in the barn,” hollered Grandma as we crossed the field. “I never told y’all about it because the outside world is a distraction. Besides, the barn’s sturdy. We can barricade ourselves in and call for help.”

“I’m not locking myself in,” said Murphy. I could barely hear her over the thunder and rain. “We need to leave, not hole up somewhere without an exit.”

On the far edge of the field I saw another figure in a black cloak standing at the tree line. I looked behind me, and there was Horace, all hooded and coming after us as well. I didn’t understand.

“You see that?” I said and pointed toward the woods.

There were more of them now, stepping past the tree line. Lightning shot a camera flash around us, and I could see six or seven of them, hooded and walking toward us.

“The fuck is going on?” hollered Murphy.