Even if Brandon turned back into a human at dawn, what were they supposed to do? Lock him up? Wait for the next full moon? Anyone who’d seen the movies knew that never worked. And what about the people who were already injured? The infection had spread to them, too.

Colchester would be laughing his ass off. If anyone learned about this, if anyone saw that monsters were real, then the world became a little darker. People would have to admit they lived in a place where all the old superstitions were true, all the legends and myths had teeth, and that the nightmares out there could bite. It was like losing territory in a war. The End would advance a little closer to now, and it would poison everything it touched.

And Eric would have to admit that he’d lost an innocent life. That he had failed.

The sirens were getting louder. Eric could see the lights of the police cars, coming up the road to the Bluffs.

For a moment, Eric felt nothing but despair. There was no way he could fix this. Not in time. There was no way anyone would mistake this thing for a kid in a mask.

Eric hesitated. A thought occurred to him.

What if it was just a kid in a mask?

Then all the horror, all the fear, it would all…evaporate. Everyone would go back to their lives. The people in the hospital would not become monsters themselves. They would heal. They would all get better. This would all be written off as a terrible prank that went too far, and everyone could go back to normal.

Especially the thing lying on the ground before him now.

It would cost him, but he could make that world a reality. He could make this happen.

Eric concentrated. He imagined it. He saw the world where it happened that way, where everyone laughed it off. Where they told stories about it, eventually. About that crazy kid who scared the whole town.

But first, he had to take that mask off.

Eric imagined it. Rubber and nylon fur instead of coarse hair. Plastic fangs instead of bone-white teeth. Red corn syrup on the collar of the letterman’s jacket instead of blood.

Eric saw it. It was cheap. it was fake. It wouldn’t fool a little kid.

He saw the beast’s shape change and shift, like a slowly deflating tire. The face of the beast peeled away and separated from the skull underneath. A seam formed at the neck.

The sirens stopped. Eric heard car doors slamming and people shouting. Spotlights began to dance over the hillside. He didn’t have any more time.

He reached for the seam and pulled.

There was Brandon’s face, his human face, his features smoothed by his deep sleep. He’d be in trouble for this.

But he’d live.