It was all a bad dream. That’s what he was telling himself. Told himself. He stares, stared, at the men holding his wife and son down. His daughter… was upstairs with them. He would not see her body till later.

The pain in his shoulder – why did it hurt? Oh yes, they dislocated it when they pulled him through the door – is agonising. But he continues to fight their grip, trying to stand up. Trying to get to them.

Trying to stop them. As they continued to torture his wife. Knives, and ropes and, worst. He wanted to scream, he knew she was screaming. Except, they had cut out her tongue and then sealed their wound. Made her flesh bubble, stream across the wound. Seal it, and distort her mouth. Her face.

And now, they were asking him things. Making him choose. Who. How. When. Where. Between his son and his wife. They were asking him, and if he didn’t reply they were going to hurt them both.

He wakes, pushing himself up from the bed, batting the hands that shake him away. Eyes wide, breathing hoarse and quick, barely taking any air into his lungs with each breath. Sweat dampened sheets are strewn across the bed and floor. Heart labouring, he coughs, forcing himself to calm. To take deep breaths.

Then the pain hits him. A headache that refuses to leave, a chainsaw going through his skull. He lets out a low groan, and rolling over onto the floor, he searches for the pills.

“Here Ken.” Freeman bends, handing him the aspirin. A glass of water is pushed into his friends hands, and he watches as his friend chokes down the pills and the water. He retrieves the glass, walking out the room as he calls. “The men are waiting.”

Ken rolls over, bloodshot eyes, still tinged with old and new pain staring up at him. And then he whispers. “I’m coming.”

“So what are we doing today?” Voice high, words coming slightly too fast as she watches everyone gather in the living room. Katherine turns around, the bare furnishings of the house all that it contains. Except for this strange collection of men.

“You,” A finger raises, pointing at her “are going to stay in the van with me and keep watch. Marks and Richard will go in and search for our prey. Jim will search for clues of our good friends, and Christopher…”

“I’ll sit here and groan,” chuckling, he nods his thanks to Freeman. He shifts his arm again in its sling, curling deeper into his chair as he watches the groups preparations. Consisting mostly of checking their clothing and waiting.

“Aren’t we… you know. Guns?” frowning, she shifts her feet, watching the others. “Not that I want to carry one of course. Or kill anyone. Except maybe you, know. Those things. The uhh… vampires. But. Guns?”

“We’re not carrying them tonight.”

“Huh? But why?”

Richard fields that question, moving forwards and gesturing to the windows. To the world outside. “The van’s got a shotgun. And a few stakes. But the rest of us, don’t carry any unless there’s a job to do. This isn’t the showdown at the O.K. Corall. We aren’t licensed to carry weapons. We walk into the club carrying a gun, the cops will get called in. And we can’t afford that.”

“Oh. I guess that makes sense,” biting her lip, head bent as she thinks it through. “Guess you don’t run red lights either huh?”

“Never. We’re law abiding citizens.”

“Except the murder and mutilation part,” chimes in Malin.

As a group, the others turn and glare at the unpeturbed Malin. He begins to chuckle before groaning, clutching his injured ribs and curling further into his chair.

“This is boring,” hunched in her chair, Katherine turns to Freeman, eyeing his still form. She turns back to the club they watch from behind the van’s windshield, covering another yawn as she watches the stream of people entering and exiting the club.

“Glad you noticed.” He leans further back, reaching for his coffee holder and cocking his head to the side as he glances at her. He pauses for a time before continuing, his voice low and easy. “It’s always like this. We sit out here, watch those who come in, hope to get lucky spotting a possible. And inside, the others do the same.”

“That’s it? That’s how you find the vampires?” slightly incredulous, she squirms around to stare at him. “Isn’t it… low tech?”

“That’s how we do it. Jim tries to find them through his computer. Sometimes it works.”

“So uh….” Her brows creasing as she tries to find a nice way to ask her question. “How do you tell? You know. Between them and us?”

“It’s easy. We just look out for their little badges.”

“Badges?” Feeling the bag dropping, hating herself for asking, but asking anyway.

“The one’s that go Evil’R’Us,” deadpan.

“Uh huh.” A fist curls up and she punches Freeman in the shoulder, glaring at him. “I’m serious.”

“Sorry.” He smiles slightly before his face turns grim, giving the matter some thought. When he speaks, he does so haltingly, choosing his words with care. “It’s… difficult at a distance. Closer up, certain things are easier to catch. Most of them are pale – lack of sunlight and all that. They don’t breathe. No heartbeat. During winter… their breath when they talk doesn’t steam. You know.. no clouds of… uhh… steam.”

“Then there’s… something about them. Something you… get after a while. A feeling… a… “ he shrugs, rubbing his hands together “intuition I guess. They’re… colder, more predatory. Something in the way they move, how they look at you, or at others. Something in their eyes.”

“Oh that’s helpful.”

“I know,” he shrugs at that, frowning further “I wish… I could help. But, it’s something you learn. With time. I… I’m not good at it either. Richard… has a knack for it. So does… did… Lex.”

For a moment she sees through the crack, into the pain in the centre of him before he hides it once more. Pulls himself together. She stays silent, uncomfortable at the glimpse she received. Squirming in her seat, she stares out the window, trying not to see him. Trying to find something to say. “So…. uhhh… there’s vampires. Are there.. you know. Werewolves?”

“What? Humans that turn into wolves on the full moon?” snorts “Don’t be ridiculous. You think the media wouldn’t have cottoned on to that by now? Especially the really infectious bite?”

“Well vampires don’t exist either.”

“Yeah, but they look like us. Feel like us. Move like us. And they don’t run around the ground howling like the bleeding madmen now do they?”

“I guess not… but you know I read somewhere that there’s always more weird behaviours when the moon’s full than any other time. Perhaps…?”

Grunts. “Perhaps. Anything’s possible. But I ain’t never seen one, nor heard of a reliable account of one,” trails off, before continuing “though Lex once said he saw a Yeti. Right in the middle of town too, next to the docks. He was tracking a pair of vamp’s, and those guys got jumped by that thing. Anyway, he didn’t stick around to see how it ended but the way he spoke, it was half over before it began.”

“A Yeti,” drawing the word out slowly.

“He said it. I’m just reporting it.” Chuckles, shrugging. “I know. It sounds weird. But hell, who knows. And who cares. All the more power to the cavemen if they kill the suckers.”

“I guess.” Doubt in her voice, as she hides another yawn beneath her hand, curling up further in her chair and eyeing the stream of people who pass by them. The young lady in her too short dress, the man hitting on her. The bouncers at the door and the few who want to go in but cannot. “So this is it huh? The rest of our lives? Watching people live their lives and looking out for non-people? Being on the outside looking in?”

“Yeah. Pretty much. Except for the few exciting moments of murder and mayhem.”

Softly, “I don’t want to do this.”

“Most sane people don’t. But do we have a choice?”

She opens her mouth to give the obvious answer. And then shuts it, her brows furrowing as she really considers his words. Of their choices now. She falls silent, and stays silent, unsure of what else to add as she lets things turn over in her mind.