“Him.” When Elliot looked at her, she added, “Hope’s a him.”

“Right,” Elliot said.

They were across the lawn and at the cottage’s front gate, Elliot in front and Evajean wrestling with the dog as she came up behind, when two things happened.

The first was that Evajean, her voice trembling, said, “Elliot, something’s wrong.”

He spun, terrified, knowing she was sick again, that this brief time now passed had only been a respite, and now she was sick again and would stay that way.

She was sitting down, carefully to keep herself from falling, and he crouched next to her, hands on her shoulders. The dog barked, the sound muffled by the jacket. Elliot stared into her eyes, looking for the that lost stare or the shaking, any sign that the worst had again occurred.

“No,” she said, head hanging down, chin near her chest, “no, this isn’t right. Elliot, it’s not right.” Then her head came up and her gaze was blank, completely empty of recognition or awareness, and she said to the sky just above Elliot’s head, voice steady, “This is how it begins.”

That was when the second event came, nearly as terrible as the first. From behind the house, loud enough to seep through the crackle of the flames, came the sound of babbling, of gibbering, of the crazies returned.

Elliot grabbed Evajean, pulling her up to standing, and the dog fell away, climbing out of the jacket after it thumped to the ground. The dog would have to follow them, Elliot thought, as he hefted Evajean over his shoulder and ran.

Behind him, the crazies came around the sides of the house, and an uncontrolled glance over his shoulder showed the woman in red at the fore with dozens in support.

Elliot ran until the weight was too much and the smoke blowing from the church sapped even his sudden adrenalin surge. Then he fell, Evajean tumbling to the grass, and the dog jumped over his foot, barking frantically. Evajean began kicking again, her upper body curled tightly. Elliot, panicked, turned away from Evajean and toward the onrushing horde, watching with complete helplessness as the crazies closed on the two of them.

But then they stopped. The woman in red, at the front of the pack, flinched away when she got to within a few yards. The rest piled up behind her, swarming out and around Elliot and Evajean along an invisible perimeter. Elliot realized he was screaming.

“Elliot?” He turned. Evajean was sitting up, trying to push herself to her feet. Overcome, he could only watch. She managed to get all the way up, though still unsteady, and then she stiffened. “Elliot!” she said again, this time shrill and concerned.

“Evajean,” he said back to her, but it wasn’t even a whisper, but just a mouthing of the words. He couldn’t breathe for the pressure in his chest.

Then the calm came upon her. Her body relaxed and she looked down at him. “I understand now,” she said. “We are only at the beginning and I assure you it will not end here.”

“What?” he said, shocked back into vocal capability. “Evajean…”

She walked to the edge of the circle to stand face to face with the woman in red. Elliot watched as she leaned forward and took the woman’s hand. The crazy tried to pull away but couldn’t–Evajean’s strength was absolute. “We have a long road ahead of us,” Evajean told her, “and obligations to fulfill. You will abandon this waypoint. Now.”

The woman in red shrieked. She clawed at her face, tearing deep lines in her cheeks. Evajean took a few steps backwards to stand next to Elliot. She looked down at the dog and smiled. Then she turned her face to the sky and raised her arms over her head. In her right hand she held the golden cube they’d found in the cave.

It began to glow, that same yellow light Elliot had seen in the caves radiating out. The illumination hit the perimeter through which the crazies couldn’t pass and spread out, like syrup dumped into a glass. Hope was barking and Elliot, without being conscious of the act, reached over and pulled the dog close. It nuzzled its head into his chest as he continued to stare up at Evajean.

The light had spread as far around them as it could and began to climb skyward, creating a pillar of yellow through which he could still make out the forms of the crazies. The woman in red was tearing at herself and shaking and the other crazies convulsed without falling.

Then there was a humming, almost singing, and Elliot looked up to see the golden cube open, spreading out to an arc of fanned pages. Evajean gazed at it with a content expression, then lowered it until it was in front of her face. “Beautiful,” she said. “Like it should be.”

And the light ruptured its bounds and ripped through the crowd surrounding them. The crazies bent or tumbled as it passed, like they’d been hit low by something heavy. And from each one, just as he’d seen in the cave when Uncle Jeffry and his flock had done their sacrifice, some thing came out of them, shifted out of them, so that a shadow figure was next to each crazy, bent or prone as well. The figures faded within seconds of the light’s passing, spreading out and growing less dense, like smoke. The crazies died then without sound or sign of pain. They simple collapsed to the ground and stayed there.

The woman in red was the last to go. As the light moved through her, she stopped her mad tearing and looked back at Evajean, fear and defeat in face. Her mouth opened and she said something Elliot couldn’t hear. Above him, Evajean responded, “I know. I’m sorry.” And the woman fell, her body empty.

The light dissipated, and the dog whined deep in its throat. The golden cube landed on the grass next to Elliot and then fell after it, her legs crumpled up underneath her, her head bumping his shoulder. He grabbed her, pulled her into his arms. Evajean sighed and her eyes slid closed.