The morning sun was still struggling to break through the dense canopy, casting shafts of light between the branches.
Khatri waited at the agreed meeting point, the shotgun held in one hand while his backpack rested over his shoulder.
When Boyd appeared, the priest handed him the backpack. The sheriff put it on, adjusted the straps, and only then accepted the shotgun.
"Are you sure about this?" the priest asked.
"I am." His answer was short and firm, without a hint of hesitation. "While I'm gone, help Kenny. You know how people can lose control."
"Consider it done." Khatri nodded. "Be careful out there, Boyd."
The sheriff merely gave him a slight nod before disappearing among the trees.
Moving forward with his senses on high alert, he examined every shadow in the distance. He hadn't walked for even five minutes when a sharp crack echoed behind him, making him instinctively tighten his grip.
He spun around, raising the barrel to chest level as he scanned the tree trunks, his finger close to the trigger.
"Who's there?"
A nearby bush rustled, followed by the sound of cautious footsteps through the vegetation. Then Ellis emerged from behind the leaves with both hands raised.
"It's me."
"Son?" Boyd lowered the barrel almost immediately. "What are you doing here?"
"I've been following you since you left town." Ellis took a few steps toward him but stopped before getting too close. "I... was trying to work up the courage to tell you something."
Boyd waited, allowing his son to find the words on his own.
"When the attack happened..." Ellis began, "I thought I was going to die. I thought Fatima was going to die too. But what saved us... what saved all of us were the talismans."
The memory seemed to weigh on his shoulders. Ellis bit his lower lip, struggling to contain his emotions, but his eyes were already beginning to well up.
"I've been angry for a long time, Dad. And I don't know how to deal with it." He took a deep breath before continuing. "But if you hadn't left that day... if you hadn't found the talismans..."
Ellis stopped again, as if the next words were even harder to say.
"It wasn't your fault, Dad. What happened to Mom... what happened to her... wasn't your fault."
The words hit Boyd with force. For years, he had carried the weight of her loss, accepting Ellis's resentment as a fair punishment for failing to save Abby.
Hearing his son say those words after so long felt like being granted absolution.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Dad."
"No, man... come on." Boyd's voice came out choked. He let the shotgun hang at his side before pulling his son into a tight embrace. "It's okay. It's okay."
It wasn't. Maybe it never would be completely. Some wounds didn't disappear simply because they were finally acknowledged. Still, in that moment, the two of them needed to believe things could get better.
When they pulled apart, Ellis wiped his face with his sleeve, clearing away the tears as he tried to regain some composure.
"I'm going with you."
The sudden change of subject made Boyd blink, taking a few seconds to process what he had just heard.
"No. Absolutely not."
"There is no way I'm letting you do this alone." Ellis crossed his arms, wearing the stubborn expression Boyd knew far too well.
The sheriff sighed. He knew his son better than anyone and realized sending him back wouldn't solve anything. With no other option, he decided to level with him.
"There's a reason I'm in such a hurry to settle this." He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "I'm sick, Ellis."
The young man frowned.
"Sick? With what? Have you talked to Kristi?"
"Parkinson's." The word came out bitter, almost as if it left a bad taste in his mouth.
Ellis's expression crumbled. He stared at his father as though he needed to make sure he'd heard correctly.
"Are you sure?"
"I am. They're the same symptoms your grandfather had. My hands are shaking, my body is starting to fail. I don't have much time before I become a burden to everyone."
Ellis fell silent, unable to find an answer. But the concern in his eyes soon gave way to determination, as though the revelation had only reinforced a decision he had already made.
"Well, now more than ever, I'm not letting you go alone."
Boyd felt helpless when he realized his plan had failed miserably, but there was also a hint of pride hidden behind his frustration.
"All right." The sheriff finally relented, pointing a finger at his son. "But you stay behind me and follow my orders. No arguments."
"Of course."
As they continued, Ellis tried to steer the conversation away from his father's illness by talking about other things. At some point, he mentioned that he had proposed to Fatima and that she had said yes.
The news brought a genuine smile to Boyd's face, a rare spark of joy in a place where even good news seemed to have trouble surviving.
The lightness disappeared, however, when the ruins appeared among the trees. Ellis slowed his pace when he spotted the stone slab.
Dark stains were scattered across its surface, traces of blood that looked even more disturbing beneath the faint light filtering through the canopy. A shiver ran through him.
This is way creepier than I thought.
The sheriff noticed his reaction but said nothing. Instead, he drew the pistol from his belt and handed it to his son along with a flashlight. Ellis accepted both, adjusting his grip as he stared at the cave entrance.
"Stay close."
As they headed toward the opening, Boyd attached another flashlight to the shotgun before moving forward. The light revealed only a few feet of the interior, while the rest remained swallowed by darkness.
The sheriff stepped inside, with Ellis right behind him.
…
When Randall and Dilan arrived at the police station, some of the residents from Colony House were already gathered there.
In front of the door where the bodies had been left, Kenny was letting anyone who wanted to see them take a look.
"Was this all just fire?" Randall asked, his gruff voice rising. "Or was it the grenade that did all this damage?"
Kenny sighed. He had already answered that question more than once that morning, but he knew he'd have to do it again.
He explained that the creatures had kept their distance when the sheriff tried to use the Molotovs, seemingly anticipating the plan.
The revelation sparked an uneasy murmur among those present.
Randall narrowed his eyes, absorbing every detail as he tried to fit the information into some explanation that made sense.
Beside him, Dilan remained attentive, apparently more interested in everyone's reactions than in the corpses.
Before anyone could ask another question, the station door suddenly flew open. The Matthews family entered, accompanied by a few curious residents who lived near the center of town.
Jade pushed his way past a few people without the slightest ceremony until she got a better view of the room.
When he saw the bodies, he covered his nose with her sleeve and grimaced in deep disgust.
"What the hell is going on here?"
"The sheriff killed two creatures last night," Kenny explained.
Jim and Tabitha watched the scene with more subdued expressions. Unlike everyone else, neither of them seemed genuinely shocked.
They had already seen Daniel kill one of those things, and after the noise they had heard the previous night, they could finally understand what had happened.
Jade, on the other hand, stared at him in shock.
"How? With what?"
"I'll explain everything outside once the priest gets here," Kenny replied, gesturing for everyone to move toward the exit.
Jade hated the idea of waiting, but, to his own surprise, he kept his mouth shut. He knew from experience how frustrating it was to explain something over and over.
In less than ten minutes, the news had spread. An uneasy crowd gathered in front of the station, groups talking in low voices as they tried to understand how, after all this time, someone had managed to kill the creatures that terrorized them.
The motorhome's door opened, and Daniel stepped out with Julie. They had already noticed the commotion outside through the exterior camera, and with so many people gathered, it didn't take them long to realize that something important had happened.
Julie crossed the street and went straight to her parents, briefly wrapping her arms around Ethan before turning to Jim.
"What's happening?"
"They're waiting for a meeting. The sheriff managed to kill two of those monsters last night." Jim replied, casting a sidelong glance at Daniel, who remained a few steps behind, watching the gathering.
Father Khatri emerged among the residents, making his way through the crowd until he reached the station steps.
Kenny was already waiting there, and as soon as he saw him arrive, he seemed to breathe a little easier. Khatri took his place beside him, ready to help explain what had happened.
Kenny cleared his throat, asking for silence. Little by little, the conversations died down, allowing him to begin recounting the events of the previous night.
His explanation was going relatively smoothly until Kristi appeared with Marielle, causing him to momentarily lose his train of thought.
Khatri noticed and took over, drawing on his experience of organizing his thoughts amid chaos.
"So we just torch these bastards and the problem goes away?" Jade shouted from the middle of the crowd.
"It's not that simple," Khatri replied calmly. He then explained again what Kenny had already told Randall.
"And what about that grenade?" Randall's voice stood out once again among the residents. "Do you have more of those to take out the rest of them?"
"Not at the moment," Kenny said.
"That's strange." Dilan spoke, his gaze fixed on Daniel. "Because I heard Daniel was the first one to kill one of those things a few days ago. How did he get a military weapon? Was the sheriff the one who gave him the explosives?"
The question fell into the crowd like a stone dropped into still water. Murmurs arose as suspicious glances shifted from the deputy to Daniel.
Caught completely off guard, Kenny was still trying to decide whether to lie or tell the truth when Daniel spoke up.
"I didn't receive anything. I was the one who sold the grenade to the sheriff."
Silence fell over the street.
"What the hell do you mean?" Randall stared at Kenny indignantly. "The sheriff confiscated my gun when I got here, but let this kid walk around with grenades?"
Daniel tilted his head slightly, a half-smile on his face. His calmness made it clear that the accusation didn't bother him in the slightest.
"That's because I don't act like a rabid dog. The difference between us is pretty clear."
"You bastard!"
Randall's face turned red, and his reaction was so immediate that some people didn't even have time to get out of the way before he charged forward.
The crowd hurriedly parted, creating an improvised space in the middle of the street as the man walked toward Daniel with his fists clenched.
Kenny shouted for him to stop, but Randall completely ignored him. That was when the gap between Boyd's authority and his became obvious.
The deputy stepped forward, but Khatri grabbed his arm.
"Let it play out." The priest said quietly, watching the two men. "People like Randall only learn when they get their ass kicked."
Kenny turned to look at him suspiciously. For a moment, he seemed unable to believe that a priest was actually encouraging a fight in the middle of the street.
Still, against his own instincts, he decided to wait. He would intervene only if the situation crossed the line.
Daniel didn't even change his stance. He merely gave Julie a light tap on the arm.
"Step back a little, shorty."
She answered with a simple nod and retreated a few paces. There was no concern on her face.
Jim and Tabitha, meanwhile, pulled Ethan farther away. Tabitha even cast Randall a pitying look, knowing what Daniel was capable of.
"You're dead." Randall gritted his teeth.
Daniel yawned, as if the threat were nothing more than another inconvenient interruption to his morning.
"You talk a lot. Get on with it."
Randall lunged forward, throwing a punch straight at Daniel's stomach, intent on getting his revenge.
Daniel twisted his body, letting the fist sail past before Randall followed with another punch and a clumsy kick.
Neither attack came close to landing. Daniel kept retreating just enough to avoid each blow, calmly circling around him with almost lazy movements.
To an observer, it looked less like a fight and more like an adult playing with a child.
Ethan, realizing what was happening, shouted.
"Finish him, Daniel!"
The encouragement only made Randall even angrier.
After nearly a minute, he was already breathing heavily, sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead.
Daniel, by contrast, hadn't broken a sweat.
[I bet you're thinking you're farming aura.]
It's not a thought. It's a fact, Daniel replied mentally, feeling a small pang of embarrassment at how annoyingly accurate the system was.
Deciding the show had gone on long enough, Daniel finally took one hand out of his pocket. Randall noticed the movement and tried to charge once more, gathering what little energy he had left. The man's chest was heaving frantically, but it made no difference.
Daniel remained where he was until the last possible moment. Then, in a swift motion, he delivered a single punch to his stomach, striking the exact same spot he'd hit the day the man arrived in town.
Randall's eyes widened, and all the air seemed to leave his lungs at once.
He staggered backward before dropping to his knees, wrapping his arms around his abdomen as he desperately struggled to breathe.
Across the street, Dilan wrinkled his nose as he watched the scene.
Useless.
For a few seconds, nobody said anything. The silence was broken only by the muffled sounds Randall made.
Then Jade decided to add his contribution to the moment.
"That was kind of disappointing." He commented. "I want a refund."
A few nervous laughs escaped the crowd, while others simply stared at Jade in disbelief. Kenny, in particular, gave him a disapproving look that made it clear this wasn't the time for comments like that.
Daniel crouched in front of Randall and, without losing his smile, gave the man two light pats on the cheek, almost affectionately.
"If you want, I can teach you how to fight. Since you're my favorite punching bag, I'll give you a fair price."
The pats wounded Randall's pride far more than the punch had hurt his stomach. He tried to swat Daniel's hand away, but his arm barely managed to move.
Realizing the spectacle had come to an end, Kristi approached.
"That's enough, Daniel," she said firmly. Then she turned her attention to Randall. "Let me take a look at that."
He shook his head firmly, refusing treatment. With some effort, he braced one hand against his knee and managed to stand.
Still gasping for breath, he glared at Daniel with a mixture of fury and caution before staggering away down the street.
The tension gradually eased, though the residents were still talking about what had just happened.
A thin man from Colony House hesitated before asking.
"Hey... do you still have any more of those grenades? Do you sell them?"
The humor disappeared from Daniel's face almost immediately.
"No. I only deal in military gear with the sheriff."
He already had Randall and Dilan against him and had no intention of making things easier for either of them.
Handing a grenade to someone who might pass it on to them would be stupid.
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