“I don’t give a shit what you tell them. I just don’t want a panic, and I don’t want anyone trying to get out of town. Think you can handle that?”

“No.”

“Well, life’s hard,” he shrugged. “I’ll be indisposed for a while. Don’t bother me until about eleven.” He took his sack and started down the hallway.

“Just a minute.” Bean caught his arm. “I’ve been talking to Bart, and he’s given me an idea. Have you ever used silver against these . . . against vampires?”

“Silver’s for werewolves, Charlie.”

“I know, I’ve heard. But the kid sounds convinced, and if it’s true, this could be a real edge for us. Now I’m not talking silver bullets—I don’t think it would hold a proper rifling well enough—but what about shotgun shells?” He lifted the Mossberg. “Pellets don’t need any rifling. Shape doesn’t even matter—it’s like the grapeshot they used to use in cannons. Anything that’ll fit in a shotshell will fire. Besides that, shotguns have a big dispersal pattern. All you’d have to do is aim at the chest, and at least one pellet’s bound to hit the heart. What do you think?”

Stiles leaned back against the wall wearily. “The theory’s viable, Charlie, but only if the silver works, and, unfortunately, there’s just not enough time to test it. I’ve got to get a little rest before I start preparing for tonight—”

“Hell, I’ll test it then. I’ll just find one of them and—”

“No, you won’t.” The soldier was firm. “We need every hand we can get. There’s a lot to be done before dark, and you can start off by taking care of the Cooper kid.”

“But what about—”

“No buts, Charlie. Please. Help the kid, okay?” The deputy frowned but nodded. Stiles patted his shoulder and limped past him down the hall, and almost made it to the bathroom this time before being stopped again.

“Chris,” Billie said, touching his shoulder. “Can we talk?”

He turned and looked into her eyes, coldly, hiding his emotions. Finally he gestured for her to follow him in.

“I hope you don’t offend easily,” he said, dropping his pants, “but right now I’m in no mood for niceties.” He leaned over and scooped a wad of hair from the tub with a grimace, then turned on the spigots. “What did you want?” he said, perched for now on the edge of the tub.

“I . . . uh . . . just wanted to know how it is out there.”