“Mona said two days, Logan. Our two days are almost up. And believe me, this change thing is pretty damn dramatic.” Her meaning was clear.

“Coodles was really that fucked-up, huh?”

Minutes later Savannah stopped the car at a red light on Jenkins Avenue. The football stadium loomed just ahead. Cole heard distant sirens screaming in every direction. Savannah had done well to cut the lines, but Cole knew that that wouldn’t buy them much time. Curtis had probably already reached a phone and had his men out looking for the Honda.

Savannah said, “Logan, if your teammates are going through the same transformation as that cat, they may already be too far gone to control.”

Cole refused to let the idea enter his head. He gazed through the rain at the empty road ahead. “They’re not in town anymore. Forty guys reported missing can’t just wander the streets without being seen.”

Savannah nodded. “And if they’re all missing, then something drew them out. They can’t communicate verbally. It’s not like they called one another on a phone chain. So there had to have been some force pulling them out. Something pretty damn strong.”

They looked at each other and said the word in unison: “Hunger.”

“So what do we do now, start combing the burger joints?”

Cole shook his head. “They’re animals, Savannah. Pack hunters, which always flock to places familiar to them, places where they know they can hunt. Where they can feast.”

Savannah thought about it, then went pale. “Oh, God. We really have to go back to that monster’s ranch?”

Flashing lights glinted in the rearview mirror. A squad car crested the hill about three quarters of a mile behind them.

“Better step on it,” Cole said. “Looks like the Jackrabbits aren’t the only ones on the hunt.”

CHAPTER 40

DISPATCH desk, go ahead.”

“Who’s this, Freddy?”

“It’s Hubie. Freddy’s in the crapper.”

“When’s he back?”

“Oh, I’d say about two Marlboros and an Archie comic from now. Who’s this?”

“It’s Smitty, down in the cell block. We have a situation down here, thought the sheriff oughtta come down and have a look.”

“He ain’t here.”

“Better get him on the horn, then.”

“Would if I could. Sheriff’s radio’s on the blink.”

“Well, Christ, send anyone you can down here.”

“Wera mit bort shaf at the mumnt.”

“Say again? I couldn’t make that out.”

“Mmm. Sorry.” Hubie swallowed. “Just trying to get this Whopper down. I said we’re a bit short staffed at the moment. Got the whole force out looking for missin’ ball players. The lines have been lightin’ up like a damn Christmas tree all night. What’s the trouble down there?”

“I think there’s somethin’ the matter with these Elmwood boys.”

“How so?”