He reached for me with a flaming hand, which smelled like a well-done burger, and I ducked and unleashed a quick, savage kick into his knee. Welcome back, crazy fighting instinct!

He stumbled backward, and I swung what was left of the stick at his head. He was still faster than I was and grabbed the stick and shoved it into my chest, knocking me over a fallen log.

As I lay helpless with him looming over me, I realized this could be it. He could gouge me with the stick or jam his flaming fingers up my nose or find some other way to finish me right there.

But he didn’t. Instead, he turned again and ran.

By the time I was upright, the burning corpse or whatever the hell it was had run too far, too fast for me to consider catching up with him. I wasn’t sure more exposure to that dude would be good for my health, anyway. I watched him sprint nimbly through the woods, leaving behind sparks, flickering ashes and more of that burnt-marshmallow smell. I followed the trail of debris for a while, but as I got deeper and deeper into the forest, the charred remnants became less numerous until there were no more traces of this disgusting, frightful thing.

What the hell was it?

And why had it been inside our house?

CHAPTER 18

Maggie

THE FRONT DOOR of the Moores’ house had been blown off its hinges, and smoke billowed from the interior, though I couldn’t see any flames aside from the ones I’d glimpsed tickling the roof before I decided to enter. I pulled my bloodstained shirt collar over my nose to filter the smoke, exposing my stomach in the process. The gouge on my forehead still bled a little.

“Hello?” I shouted, getting down on all fours to see under the smoke, though little was visible beyond an empty living room strewn with broken glass.

This wasn’t my first time inside the Moores’ house. They were an older couple, and Mrs. Moore and I sat on the front porch and drank sweet tea while Jordan mowed their lawn and trimmed their bushes. They weren’t quite seventy, I thought, and seemed to be in good shape. I had the impression they were making up jobs for Jordan to do so he’d have some spending money.

“Anyone in here?” I shouted as the shirt slipped off my nose. I readjusted it, but not before I coughed at the smell of melted plastic and burning upholstery.

When I reached the hallway, I got up on my feet but kept my waist bent.

“Hello?” I shouted again. “Mrs. Moore? Mr. Moore?”

The house was creaking and popping loudly. I knew I was being stupid in here. The roof was burning, and just because the ceiling looked okay, that didn’t mean it wouldn’t come crashing down on me. I saw a closed door to my right and put my hand on it to test for heat. It was cool. I opened it to reveal a dark bathroom.