Jenny nudged him forward. "Let's go!"

As the two draculas wrestled on the ground, Randall and Jenny rushed past them, with Randall quickly grabbing his hatchet on the way. There would be more draculas to chop up, that was for sure.

He winced as they ran.

"How's your leg?" Jenny asked.

"Crappy. But I'll live. Where're the kids?"

"Just around the corner."

There was a terrible scream as they rounded the corner, but Randall couldn't see the source. His leg was really, really starting to hurt. If he wasn't careful, they'd have to find the place where the hospital kept its wheelchairs.

Jenny pushed open a door marked "Pediatrics."

Randall was an optimist at heart, and he wasn't one to envision ghastly scenes of carnage. That said, he fully expected to see a giant room full of child parts, tiny arms and legs strewn everywhere, bloody, ripped-off faces sliding down the walls, and a shredded teddy bear at his feet to drive home the tragedy of it all.

Instead, the first room in the wing was filled with sobbing children, but none of them were dead or even bleeding.

"We have to get them out of here," Jenny said.

Randall shook his head. "You can't lead that many kids through this place. We need to keep them here and defend them."

"You're right, you're right, I'm not thinking straight." Jenny squeezed her eyes shut, then re-opened them. They widened as she looked at something behind Randall, in the direction from which they'd come.

He spun and caught a glimpse of a dracula, a really old fucker. The dracula disappeared from sight and Randall returned his attention to Jenny. "It's okay. He's not coming after us."

"No, I think he's the one who started this."

"What do you mean?"

"He was the first one to transform into one of those things."

Randall frowned. "So you mean he's...I dunno...the leader or something? Kill the queen and the rest die, like ants?" Randall hoped that didn't sound stupid. He didn't mean that he'd expect the rest of them to suddenly burst into dust if he killed the leader, but what if the leader was giving them signals? Was that dumb?

He stared into Jenny's eyes. He couldn't tell what she was thinking.

"I don't know," she said. "I just...I don't know."

"I'll be right back," Randall said. "I'll kill him. If it doesn't do anything...well, he should be killed anyway, before he kills somebody else. Barricade yourself and the kids in here as well as you can. Here, I'll trade you." He handed her the bloody hatchet, took back his chainsaw, and turned to go.

"Randall!"

He stopped. He'd never heard Jenny so upset before. When he turned and looked at her, she seemed close to tears.

"I need you here. Please don't leave me."

She held out her hand to him. He took it, the warmth of her touch penetrating his rough, calloused hands and working its way through his whole body.

I need you here...

Did she have any idea what those words meant to him? He felt the start of tears. He blinked them back and managed to speak around the lump in his throat.

"Okay. I'll stay."

Clayton Theel

DAMN hospital.

Clayton Theel, Jr. tossed his cell phone on the passenger seat as he pulled out of the Gulf station. He'd been filling up his Suburban--a feat that required a small business loan at current prices--and had missed Shanna's call. His return call had hit instant voicemail. She had her phone off.

Sure, he'd pick her up at the hospital. Jenny too. Not a problem. But her voice had sounded a little funny. Prolly just a woman thing. Never knew how they'd react to something.

He dug the little cube box out of his pocket. He flipped up the top and checked out the diamond sparkle. He did know how she'd react when he handed her this and asked her to marry him.

Then again, maybe he didn't know. Maybe she'd think it was too soon. They'd known each other only six weeks, true, but he had no doubt in his mind that she was the one. And he knew he was right for her. In all the schools she'd gone to, she'd probably never met a man like him. Just wimpy brainiacs and stuffy professors. She dug him almost as much as he dug her. Almost, because no one could be as crazy for anyone as he was for her.

She might say it was too soon, that he was rushing things, and maybe he was, but he wanted her to know that this wasn't any fly-by-night relationship for him, wanted her to know he was committed. He'd wait. It was only a matter of time.

All that sparkle had cost him a bundle, but nothing was too good for--

His phone rang. He snatched it up and said, "Hello, darlin'."

"Why, Clay! I didn't know you cared!"

He winced as he recognized the male voice.

"Sorry, sheriff. Thought it was--"

"Someone else?" the sheriff said, laughing. "After I gave myself to you?"

Clay laughed too, despite his discomfort. Sheriff Seward was a good guy, but this stuff wasn't all that funny.

"What's up, boss?"

"Got a situation."

Crap. He wasn't going to call him in, was he? Clay had been planning this weekend, at least the gun-show part of it, for a loooong time. And looking forward to it even more with Shanna coming along. He needed this weekend.

"What's up?"

"Got a train off the track and on its side, flat across the highway, but we're handling that."

Good, good. So far, so good.

"But I got a funny call from the hospital."

Clay's neck muscles bunched. Shanna was at the hospital.

"Funny how?"

"You know that tight-ass, his-shit-don't-stink ER doc--?"

"Lanz?"

"Yeah, him. Well, he calls with some story about being terrorized by a monster running loose in the hospital. We're all tied up here, so I was wondering--I mean, I know it's your weekend off, but--"

"I'll go take a look right now."

A pause on the other end, surprise most likely. "You will?"

"Not a problem. Can't have monsters running around Blessed Crucifixion, can we? I'll check it out and call you back."

No need to tell the sheriff he was headed there anyway.

"That's damn white of you, Clay. I won't forget this."

Clay forced a casual laugh. "Damn right, you won't. I won't let you."

The sheriff hung up laughing. Clay hit END and frowned. A monster at the hospital? What kind of crap was that? Was Lanz on drugs? Well, drugs or for-real monster, didn't matter. Shanna could be in danger.

He stomped the gas.

An ambulance sat outside the ER entrance, lights flashing, rear doors open. Clay pulled his Suburban in beside it, popped the glove compartment, and removed his Glock 23. As he stepped out, he stuck it in the waistband of his jeans at the small of his back. He was out of uniform and didn't want to freak anyone by going in hot.

He didn't have to rack the slide because he always kept a round chambered. An empty chamber was worse than useless, it was just plain stupid. He'd filled its extended mag to the brim with .40 caliber, 180-grain Hydra-Shok hollow points.

Enough to stop any "monster."

As he stepped toward the two-stage entrance, he saw someone in a hospital security uniform standing with his back to the inner doors. The outer motion detector caught his approach and opened one of the doors. The guard turned and Clay froze.

His face. He was wearing some sort of Halloween mask, except Halloween was a long way off. The blood and most of the mask looked pretty damn realistic, but the teeth didn't work--too big, too many of them. Just plain unreal.