"We have to go out," I said.

"Now? You just got back."

"Yes." I turned to Wade. "Can you order a pizza and hang here for a while?"

He frowned, probably thinking we were going hunting-which was half true. But what could he say? He knew what we were. I'd tell him everything I'd discovered tonight later.

"All right," he answered.

So Wade stayed behind while Philip and I ran down the front steps and headed two miles away from the house.

"Steal us a car," I said.

"You want me to?"

"Yeah, some old, heavy thing with great big tires and a cassette player."

My mood infectious, he glanced around and spotted a 71 Ranchero sporting a chipped paint job. "That one."

Moments later, as we roared down the street, I plugged in a Blue Oyster Cult tape and watched him smile.

"How come we need to go hunting right now?" he asked.

"Because there's something… I want to show you."

Maybe we'd all be okay.