“I know it sounds idiotic,” Doug continued. “But we have nothing to lose by trying. The police officer’s right. Bullets won’t stop him. I don’t think he can be killed. But I’ve been watching him. There was a holiday on the Fourth of July. No mail was delivered. The next day he was thin and sick. This week, when he came back after disappearing, he was even thinner. He needs mail to survive. That’s where he gets his energy or his power or whatever it is. If we cut him off, if no one sends any mail or receives any mail, he will have nothing to do. He will die.”

“Maybe he won’t die. Maybe he’ll just leave,” a woman said.

“Fine. At least we’ll be rid of him.”

“Then he’ll come back.”

“And we’ll do it again. Or maybe by that time we will have found something else.”

People were starting to talk again.

“We all have to do it. Every one of us. If even one person gives him mail, it may be enough to keep him alive.” Doug swallowed. His voice cracked. “Look, he attacked my wife and my son. Or he tried to attack them. But he couldn’t do anything. He couldn’t touch them. He wanted to, he tried to, but in the end the only thing he could do was try to get them to read his mail. That’s all he has. That’s his only power.”

The sound of the crowd was different this time, louder, less argumentative, hopeful. They wanted to believe. Next to him, Tritia held his hand. She looked up at him and smiled. “No mail!” she yelled. “No mail!” She began to chant in a cheerleader cadence. “No mail! No mail! No mail! No mail!”

It was picked up by Mike and by some of the people in the front rows. Two of the school’s real cheerleaders took up the cause, lending their considerable vocal talents to the chant, and from elsewhere in the audience the other cheerleaders followed suit.

“No mail! No mail! No mail! No mail!”

The sound grew, spread, and soon the entire gym was filled with the echoing reassuring sounds of the impromtu cheer.

“No mail! No mail! No mail! No mail!”

Never before had Doug experienced such a sense of community, such a spirit of cooperative togetherness, such a willful optimism. For the first time, he really and truly believed that they might have a chance to put a stop to this nightmare. He grinned at Tritia, and she grinned back.

The lights in the gym flickered.

“Stay calm,” Doug ordered. “Don’t panic!” But his voice was lost in the cry of the crowd, in the thump of stamping feet.

A moment later the electricity went off for good.

But no one seemed to notice and the people of the town continued to chant.