“A sledge,” Sandy said, “Maybe six pounds.”

“And a cross,” Elias said. “My grandmother’s got a silver cross in her jewelry box.”

Sandy sneered, but said nothing.

“Right,” Smith said, as he stepped on the gas. “Hechinger’s first, then, for the axe and sledge.”

About ninety minutes later they stopped at the Roy Rogers on Route 124 to eat and plan. Their purchases stayed in Smith’s car. So did the freshly-cut two-foot length of oak, one end sharpened and the other blunt.

“We need to get one of them alone,” Smith said, putting down his burger. “We can’t take on all of them at once.”

“Which one? Where?” Elias asked. “How do we do that?”

“The one that got Mary,” Sandy said. “The one that’s pretending to be her – that’s the one we start with.”

Smith was momentarily unsettled by the idea of driving a stake through a woman’s heart, but then he reconsidered.

The things weren’t human. It wasn’t a woman, it was a monster in a woman’s shape. He nodded. “All right,” he said, “One’s as good as another, as far as I’m concerned. But how do we get her alone?”

“That’s easy,” Sandy said. “I call her up and ask her to meet me somewhere. She’s still pretending to be Mary; she doesn’t know I’m onto her. So she comes, and we grab her, and we do it.”

“Where?” Smith asked.

“Where I’m staying, of course,” Sandy said. “My roommate’s out for the weekend.”

“What if she screams, and the neighbors hear?”

Sandy looked annoyed. “Yeah,” he said, “That could be a problem.” He looked at Elias.

Elias shook his head. “My folks are home.”

Smith said, “And I’m living in a motel.”

“There’s the woods along Barrett Road,” Sandy said. “So long as we don’t give her a chance to get away.”

“We can surround her,” Smith said.

Elias chewed slowly for a moment, then said, “Vampires were supposed to have the strength of ten men. There’s only three of us.”

“Ten men, hah!” Sandy said. “Mary was only five-one. If the three of us can’t handle a five-one broad, we’re in pretty piss-poor shape.”

“But it’s not really a woman,” Smith said.

“It’s still only five-one and ninety pounds,” Sandy replied.

Smith looked at Elias; Elias shrugged. “I guess you’re right,” he said, “But I wish there were more of us.”

“What do you expect from a bunch of women?” Sandy said.

“There’s Khalil,” Smith said.

Sandy just stared, and Smith decided not to argue.

“We could call them,” he said, “And see if any have changed their minds.”

“Okay,” Sandy said. “But if any of them call the cops, it ain’t my fault.”

Smith nodded; Elias shrugged.

“Let’s do it, then,” Sandy said.

They picked Khalil and Maggie up at Annie McGowan’s house a few minutes after five. Sandy recovered his own car, a black Mercury, and Khalil rode with him, while Elias and Maggie rode with Smith. The Newells were long gone, and Annie herself wanted nothing to do with their vigilantism, but Khalil and Maggie both wanted in.

Sandy made his call from the pay-phone outside the 7-Eleven on Townsend.

“Hey, Mare!” he said.

The others couldn’t hear the reply.

“It’s me, Sandy. Look, I’m sorry for the things I said last time, okay? Can we talk about it?”

He listened for a moment.

“No, really, I want us to get back together, okay? I love you, Mare – no shit, I really do. So can we talk somewhere? In person?”

Maggie kicked nervously at the sidewalk.

“Naw, Bob’s around, and I want it private. Look, how about you meet me at the north end of the dam, on Barrett Road, and we can walk in the woods, just you and me and Mother Nature, okay?”

Smith looked over at Khalil; he seemed calm, like Sandy, while Elias and Maggie were obviously nervous.

“Seven thirty? Can’t you make it any sooner?”

Smith couldn’t hear the false Mary’s reply, but he saw Sandy wince and guessed it wasn’t exactly polite agreement.

“Okay, okay,” Sandy said. “Seven thirty, then. See you there!” He hung up.

“All set, you guys,” he called.

“Seven thirty?” Smith asked.

Sandy shrugged. “Best I could do.”

“It’ll be getting on toward sunset by then,” Elias pointed out.

Sandy shrugged. “Hey, what can I do?”

No one had an answer to that.

That left them a couple of hours; Maggie and Khalil hadn’t eaten any supper as yet, so they made their next stop the Wendy’s on Diamond Park Avenue.

When they emerged, around six thirty, the sky had clouded over; as they climbed back into the two cars the rumble of distant thunder reached them.

“Lovely weather,” Sandy remarked.

They needed twenty minutes of the remaining hour to get out to the dam and find a spot to hide Smith’s Chevy, up around the curve out of sight.

The walk back to the dam would take perhaps five minutes, but nobody was in any hurry to make it, as the sky was dark and the rumbling more frequent now.

“Lovely weather,” Sandy repeated sarcastically. Khalil made no reply, and the other three, huddled in Smith’s Chevy, didn’t hear him.

About ten past seven the storm finally broke, and rain spilled down heavily, but in the way of summer storms it was over quickly; ten minutes after it had begun, the downpour stopped.

When the rain stopped Smith and Elias and Maggie emerged cautiously from the Chevy and began the walk back to the appointed meeting place, while Sandy got the Mercury turned around and headed back. The ground was damp beneath their feet, and crickets shrilled on all sides.

When Sandy and his passenger reached the agreed-upon spot the other three were waiting for them.

“I just hope she isn’t early,” Smith said, as Sandy and Khalil climbed out.

“I just hope she shows,” Sandy said. “When I phoned it was still sunny and warm, and now look at it.” He gestured at the dark grey skies.

Maggie shuddered slightly.

“I’ll wait here,” Sandy said. “The rest of you get out of sight.”

Smith nodded, and led the other four off the road, back among the trees, well away from the road, so that whatever they did wouldn’t be seen.

Then they waited.

“This is stupid,” Maggie finally said from behind an oak, “Even if she comes. She’ll see us!”

“No, she won’t,” Elias answered. “I don’t think they see very well in sunlight.”

“What sunlight, Elias?” Maggie asked. “I can’t even tell whether the sun’s still up there behind those clouds or already set.”

“Shut up!” Sandy called from the roadside. “I can hear you from here, and that’s her car coming!”

A battered old Volkswagen pulled up onto the sandy shoulder; Smith could just make it out through the shadows and foliage. Someone got out, a petite blonde in denim shorts and a red halter and broad-brimmed straw sun-hat – she obviously hadn’t let a little summer shower bother her enough to make her change clothes. Sandy talked to her, and she answered him, but none of the others could make out what was said.

Then the pair of them walked down into the forest, away from the road, toward where the others waited. Smith clutched the oaken stake; he was sweating, more than the lingering warmth of a summer evening could account for. He glanced over to where Khalil held the four-pound sledgehammer they had bought – on Smith’s charge card – earlier that afternoon.

The little blonde’s voice reached Smith. “…I’m not still mad at you, I just don’t think I’m ready to get back together.”

Wet leaves rustled as the pair walked, and the crickets sang wildly.

“Mare,” Sandy said, “What’s to be ready? I mean, it’s not like it was the first time, or anything. We lived together for over a year, right? So we already know each other. We know what we’re doing.” He had an arm around her shoulders as they walked, his other arm swinging free.