It was the question that had been on everyone’s minds, if not everyone’s lips, and Doug was about to respond when a shrill voice sounded off from somewhere in the upper portion of the bleachers.

“He’s the devil!” An old woman stood up, a woman Doug did not recognize. “Our only hope is prayer! Our only hope is to ask Jesus Christ for forgiveness and beg Him to protect us!”

There were low murmurs of frightened assent.

“He’s not the devil!” Doug announced, raising his hands for quiet.

“Then, what is he?” Tril asked. “He certainly ain’t human.”

“No,” Doug said, “he’s not human. To be honest, I don’t know what he is.”

“He killed my daughter!” someone yelled.

“I don’t know what he is!” Doug repeated, louder. “But I do know this: he can be stopped. We can stop him.”

Smith Tegarden, one of the police officers who had been on the ridge the other night, walked out of the crowd and onto the gym floor. There was confidence in his step, but Doug could see that that was merely habit, reflex. The veteran cop was frightened. He stood in front of Doug. “We shot that bastard point-blank, and he didn’t die,” he said. “He fell off the ridge and walked away. How do you propose to stop him?”

Doug took a deep breath. “We’re going to starve him,” he said. “We’re going to cut off his mail.”

“Cut off his male what?” someone yelled from the crowd, and there was a chorus of tension-relieving laughter.

Doug smiled. “We’re going to stop sending or receiving any mail. Whatever he delivers, don’t take it, don’t pick it up. Let it sit in your mailboxes. The mail is his only real power. That’s all he’s ever really done to us.” He thought of Billy, thought of Tritia, thought of Howard. “The mail is how he’s gotten to us. It’s how he’s brought us to this point. It’s his only weapon. If we can stop the mail, we can stop him.”

Arguing broke out and Doug could tell immediately that his idea had not gone over well. He had been afraid of that. It sounded so stupid, so weak, so ineffectual, that it didn’t seem as though it would do any good. He saw a couple of people heading for the door.

“Wait,” Mike’s voice cut authoritatively through the cacophony. He walked across the floor to stand next to Doug. “Hear him out.”

The noise abated.