"Help me, Joy. Kathy Lee. We'll make sandwiches," she said before the three women fell to the task.

Later, Highsmith's wife begged them to eat more. She was wearing short shorts and now she rubbed her hands along her naked thighs, the skin so shapely that Todd met the movement with an angry blush. She tilted her head toward the doorway through which her husband had departed twenty minutes before.

"He's expecting visitors," she said when she noticed Todd tracking her gaze.

She dropped both hands tenderly to her young son's shoulders, a gesture that encouraged Joy to do likewise with Crissie and Little Todd. Even Kathy Lee made a half-hearted attempt to track down her two and yank them closer.

The richly carpeted footfalls were so muffled that Todd didn't hear Highsmith's approach until he spoke.

"He's pulling in the driveway," he said as he strode into the kitchen. "But there's someone with him." That last part didn't sound like good news.

Highsmith moved to a window over the sink where Todd looked over his shoulder for as long as he could stand the sunlight. A navy blue SUV glided to a halt behind the van and both of the ample vehicle's front doors opened at the same time.

Highsmith squinted. "Who the hell...?" he said in a voice so full of wonder that Todd had to lean closer to the glass, shielding his eyes with an instantly sunburned forearm, to see what was happening.

The driver was a black guy in his forties, maybe. Slightly shorter than average and on the soft side. He spun in a slow circle to take in the house, the yard, and finally his passenger as she emerged from the vehicle and rounded the front of it and came up behind him.

Highsmith made a sound deep in his throat. "Wait here," he said to no one in particular before rushing out the door.

Todd turned on a sink tap to cool the sun's sting from his wrists and arms while watching the confrontation.

The young woman struck a casual pose against the side of the Grand Cherokee, her face locked in a smile that more closely resembled a grimace. She was tall, slender and tanned golden. Her sandy blond hair looked expensively tousled so that she had to keep removing strands of it from her eyes.

"Interesting," Todd murmured.

Paul absently touched the black guy's elbow, but his head was angled toward the hot young chick.

"What have we here, a little competition for the cheerleader?" Todd asked himself.

"What's that, hon?" Joy asked.

"Nothing."

He shut off the tap and bathed his face in the water on his hands. It helped, but only a little. He inched closer to the back screen door, stepping very carefully around the sunbeam in the middle of the room.

"Todd, what are you doing?" Joy froze in the act of cleaning up the kids' mess. "Don't you listen in on them."

"I'm not," he said, waving her off.

From the doorway, he saw nothing but the branches of the young oaks, but he could hear conversation distinctly enough.

"It was my decision, Dad," the young woman was saying in a strong, ringing voice. "I told Freddie he could either give me a ride or I'd try to find your place on my own and probably end up lost."

Dad, Todd thought, vaguely disappointed.

Highsmith said, "Let's get in the house."

Todd skittered away from the door, yelping sharply as the sunbeam slashed a patch of exposed wrist.

Highsmith, holding the screen door for his daughter, squeezed her shoulders as she walked in ahead of him. He said, "Honey, don't get me wrong. I love seeing you, but now isn't...it's dangerous."

"That's why I'm here," she said.

Up close, she looked about the same age as the old guy's wife. Interesting development.

"I didn't understand a thing Freddie was saying, but I figured you needed more help than you'd ever ask me for. Whatever it is, Dad, you've got two lawyers from one of the most powerful law firms in Detroit at your service."

Highsmith chuckled and Todd did, too. In both cases, it sounded forced.

"Well, you might as well meet everyone," Highsmith said. "Before I get into my story I want you both to note that they all seem at least as sane as Freddie, here. That's important because you'll question our mental health by the time I'm through."

Chapter Forty-Four.

First Highsmith led a parade of kids and trailing adults to a finished basement room chock full of video games and old-fashioned penny arcades. There was a big-screen television on one wall and shelves jammed with kids' books and DVDs on another. He found an age-appropriate movie for all of the kids and showed them how to operate several of the games.

"That ought to hold them," he said as he took the adults and his young son back upstairs and into a sun-drenched room with couches and plush chairs where Todd had to work hard to find a shadowy corner.

Then Highsmith set off another hurried round of introductions. Connie Highsmith, Todd noticed, seemed to keep her distance from the young wife, who she apparently already knew, and to devote most of her smiles and attention to the toddler, who'd be her half-brother. After his initial shyness, the kid sat on her lap.

"Alright," Highsmith started, once everyone was settled and introduced. "We have an unusual situation here and not much time to explain it."

Unusual situation. Understatement of the day.

Their host went into an impossibly brief summary of the last several days, but even this cobbled together version of events drew the wide-eyed attention of the two newcomers.

And yet they hardly looked convinced. If the persuasive Highsmith couldn't even win over family and friend, Todd was thinking, how the hell did they hope to alert the outside world?

"Dad, you've got to be-I don't know-mistaken," said Connie.

Highsmith grimly shook his head. "Honey, we've looked at this a thousand ways. Whatever you want to call these people, they're dangerous. Trust me."

"Well, whatever's going on," the lawyer friend said, "job one is to get everyone out of here. We'll need more than my Grand Cherokee. If we can also use that minivan parked in front of-"

"I'm not going," said Paul, his quiet words drawing shocked silence all around.

Darby stood and took a couple nimble steps to her husband's side. "What do you mean, Paul?"

He gave his young wife a sad smile. "Darby, you heard what Drake said. That he'd find us wherever we went. I believe him. If I don't handle it right here, right now, we'll always be running. And I'm too old and easily frightened for that."

"But we've got him," she cried. "I thought we decided-"

"It's not enough," Paul replied. "We need more, and I know just how to do it."

Huh? Todd felt lost. They had him? What did that mean?

"Apparently you haven't told us everything, Paul," the lawyer said, pretty much echoing Todd's thoughts.

"There's no time," Highsmith replied.

Darby looked like she had another argument in mind, but Todd watched it dribble from her face.

"Well this is crazy," Connie Highsmith said. "Vampires, conspiracies, dead people, fleeing town before dark."

"I was there," her father told her firmly. "So were these other people." He swept the room with a hand gesture. "Either it all happened like I said it did, or we're all lying for unfathomable reasons."

Connie took the Sundowners in without looking at anyone directly. "Or...I don't know. You're all somehow imagining..." She let it trail off as if unable to convince even herself.

Freddie Brace nodded. "Mass hypnosis. Like seeing the sun dance in the sky while the Blessed Virgin visits thousands."

"Christ, Freddie," Highsmith said.

The lawyer waved him off. "Hear me out. I'm not saying that's the explanation. It's too pat, too flippant to ever sell to a jury. Generally speaking, if someone I know and trust tells me he saw pink elephants in tutus crooning Perry Como tunes, and I'm convinced he's not emotionally or chemically unbalanced-or pulling my leg-I'm going to think that there's something damn strange and interesting going on. If it's not a singing elephant in a tutu it's... something."

"Then you sort of believe me?" Paul said in amazement.

"'Sort of' being the operative phrase for now." Freddie shrugged. "You're too smart to be duped and I know you're not lying. Also seems unlikely I've been dragged to the sticks to get punked. . So I'm staying here with you until I see those crooning, tutu-wearing elephants for myself."

"I wouldn't recommend it," Highsmith said.

"You didn't. Now let's get everyone out of here. If I remember my Dracula movies, they have to be gone before sundown."

"Forget the movies," Kathy Lee said. "The way things really are is more dangerous than anything you ever seen at the theater. In many ways, those things are more human than my own kids."

"But the sun really does hold them off," said Joy. "That's why we're relatively safe for now."

Then she described the attack at the apartment over the Winking Dog as Todd had explained it to her. She told how Jamey Weeks had been killed as a result of exposing the sleeping vampires to sunlight. One of the stories Highsmith had neglected to tell, maybe in deference to all the women present.

At least Jamey's death had been fast and final, Todd thought. He wouldn't be in the process of making the transition from human to something far worse. Todd felt his heart hammering and knew he had to refocus his thoughts. He tuned back in to the conversation.

Highsmith was giving orders, a role that seemed to suit him. They were to pile into the Grand Cherokee and Mona's Dodge minivan. Todd would drive the Cherokee with his family aboard while Kathy Lee brought up the rear in the van with Darby, Connie, Tuck and her own awful twosome. Highsmith had found a Mapquest map he'd printed out before moving to the remote community-back when he had Internet access like the rest of America. He'd highlighted a path that would keep them off of what passed for main roads in this stretch of woods. As small as the town police force was, it was unlikely they'd have the chosen route covered. Or at least that was the theory of the moment.

Highsmith turned to his wife at one point and told her to not forget the memory card.

"What memory card?" Connie Highsmith asked the question, but it could just as easily have been Todd.

"Not now, honey. Darby will explain it in the car." Highsmith turned to his wife. "Just remember to call at precisely nine o'clock."

While everyone else in the room listened with blank expressions, Highsmith made Darby repeat a local phone number that Todd didn't recognize. Under no circumstances, his wife and daughter were told, were they to tell him where they were calling from. But wherever they touched down, they were to find a wireless signal and Darby was to check for email.

"I might have to find a Starbucks in the next town, but I'll find online access somehow," Highsmith said. "Later."

Darby just kept impatiently nodding-she'd heard this all before-while her eyes flitted from window to window as the sun grew less intense. Made Todd feel a little better, at least.

It was getting more difficult to follow all of this as his limbs grew wearier, his eyelids heavier. Highsmith prattled on and on.

"Honey, use credit and debits cards and take ATM cash withdrawals for the first twenty-four hours only. Then cut up all of your plastic. You should be able to use Connie's credit cards longer since it'll take them awhile to trace her. Don't stay with relatives or obvious friends, and keep moving. That's the most important thing," he said. "Keep moving."

Highsmith made his wife repeat the local phone number again and reminded her to place it from a throwaway cell phone at exactly nine that next morning. If Paul didn't answer by the end of the third ring, they were to hang up and toss the phone.

At a break in the action, Todd glanced at his watch. It was nearly 7:20, still time remaining till dark. Too much time, he thought, his flesh still tender from the midday sun.

"One more thing," he said, rising painfully to his feet. His shoulder throbbed with the movement. "I won't be going."

There. He'd said it. It wasn't so bad. Even Joy just stared at him with a distracted look that contained not a trace of alarm. Maybe it would go over a lot better than expected.

"You mean you're not ready yet, hon? What? You've gotta go to the bathroom?"

Or maybe not.

"I gotta be here," he said.

"No you don't," Highsmith barked. "You've got three kids and a wife depending on you."

"You got a wife and kid here, too," Todd replied. "Two of them," he corrected himself.

Joy got in his face with her husky body like she wanted to tackle him. She probably did. He took a couple backward steps with her in his arms, and pressed her tightly To his chest.

"You have to listen to me," he whispered, embarrassed at their public display. "I'm staying for reasons you can't even guess. I'll be careful, but you gotta believe I know what I'm doing."

He could feel her head shake from side to side as she murmured "No, no, no..." into his chest. He burrowed deeply into her, unable to make eye contact for fear of losing it. It was worse than when Chaplin's teeth sunk into his shoulder. Worse even than that godawful moment when he knew he'd been infected and there was probably no cure.

But if there did exist an antidote of some kind, he would only find it here. That much he knew. And for that possibility he had to stay strong.

And so they left him: Melanie and Crissie and Little Todd. The two younger kids were still sobbing quietly as they were packed into the Grand Cherokee, Connie Highsmith behind the wheel. Melanie's tears had ended, but she hid her red face from him. He wanted to pull her to his lap like when she was a little girl and explain everything. Make her see how he had to do what he was doing.

He said nothing. He turned to his wife, sharing the ample shade under the backyard oaks. "Last chance," he said quietly. "I wish you'd go-"

"I'll see my kids soon," Joy said, smiling through her tears. "We both will. Kathy Lee and Connie will take good care of them until we pick them up together. That's what I promised Melanie, and it's a promise I'm going to keep. We both are."

Todd thought of Jermaine and Tonya Whittock, their kids packed away in Detroit, and despair squeezed his chest. As Joy suddenly ran to the big SUV and reached in to hug her crying children one last time, he considered stepping into the last of the sunlight and shoving her into the van with them, slamming the door and waving the vehicles out of this godforsaken town.

Thought about it, but then saw the grim set of Joy's mouth as she returned to him and knew she'd never give him up that easily.

"We're losing sunlight," Highsmith called out to the drivers. "Hurry up and get out of here."

From windows inside the huge home, Todd watched his escaping family until the minivan and SUV disappeared from view. His skin tingled as though he'd fallen asleep under a heat lamp. Wrapping one arm tightly around Joy, he could feel her shoulders heaving with the force of her silent tears.

A nap. That's what he needed.