Daniel looked away from the crowd and focused on Sara.
She stood behind the counter, completely still. Her eyes were fixed on Boyd, listening intently, her expression showing no visible discomfort.
But he noticed the detail that gave everything away.
Her hand was gripping a cleaning cloth so tightly that her fingers had gone white.
Beside her, Nathan stood with his body slightly angled toward her, an unconscious protective posture. His gaze shifted from Sara to Boyd, then to the crowd, and back again. The kind of silent vigilance that made no noise but never rested.
Daniel tilted his head slightly, evaluating.
Interesting.
What are you going to do now, Sara? Follow the script and try to kill the boy? Or has my presence already altered the variables enough?
Before he could deepen his analysis, Father Khatri stepped forward, positioning himself beside Boyd. His presence had a curious effect on the room. It didn't silence the fury completely, but it slowed it down.
"I understand the anger," he said, his voice firm but not harsh. "But we need to understand the motive. And why the creatures didn't kill the woman who was outside. That doesn't make sense."
Some voices stopped. Others lowered.
"If we act driven only by fear, we'll just make another mistake," the priest continued. "We need answers. Not lynchings."
The priest's cold logic made some people stop shouting. For a moment, the mystery was greater than the rage.
The sheriff seized the opening.
"That's exactly why I'm asking this," Boyd said, projecting his voice without shouting. "If anyone discovers anything, don't try to take justice into your own hands. Bring that person to me. We need to question them. We need to understand why."
Daniel watched the shift in the air. Shoulders lowering. Jaws unclenching. The animal instinct being shoved back into its cage, reluctantly.
"I also have some good news to share," Boyd said, changing his tone. "Unfortunately, it came from this disaster."
People leaned forward, hungry for any scrap of hope.
"We discovered that the talismans also work on closed rooms. Not just at the entrance of a house."
Surprised murmurs rippled through the room. Some faces lit up with renewed hope. Others frowned, processing the information.
"That means that even if a creature manages to enter a house," Boyd let the sentence hang, "...if there's a talisman on the door of a closed room, it can't enter that room."
Expressions changed instantly. Raw fear gave way to visible relief. People relaxed their shoulders. It was a new layer of armor.
"First," Boyd raised a finger, reclaiming command. "Everyone living alone or in groups needs to reinforce their houses. Board up the windows. Not just from the inside, but also from the outside. So what happened at the clinic doesn't happen again."
The crowd nodded in fervent agreement.
"Second. Every occupied bedroom needs a talisman, if possible. We'll redistribute the ones we have left. If a window is broken anywhere in the house, lock yourselves in the room with the talisman."
"Third." Boyd's voice hardened again. "If anyone knows anything, anything at all, about what happened... come talk to me. In private. No public judgments. We just need the truth."
"If there are no more questions..." the sheriff waited. Silence remained. "Then this meeting is adjourned. Go home. Reinforce the windows. Take care of each other."
The crowd began to disperse slowly, eager to apply the new safety rules.
Whispered conversations and suspicious glances were cast toward women wearing dresses.
Paranoia had taken root. Fear and distrust were now neighbors.
Exactly what the creatures wanted.
Kristi appeared beside Daniel, pulling him out of his sociological analysis. She looked exhausted. Her eyes were still slightly red and swollen, remnants of the traumatic, sleepless night.
"I'm going back to the clinic." She let out a tired sigh, rubbing her temples. "There's still a lot to organize."
"Want a ride?" Daniel offered, his hands still in his pockets.
"No, thanks." She gave a half-smile. "I need to walk a bit. Clear my head."
"Makes sense." He shrugged. "But if you need anything, you know where to find me. I'm the guy with the tank parked outside."
She let out a short, genuine laugh, something rare on such a gray day. "I'll remember that, Daniel. Try not to start a fight with anyone in the next two hours, okay?"
"No promises."
Kristi waved to Kenny before leaving, the door closing softly behind her.
As Daniel watched the flow of people, Julie, returning from the back restroom, stopped near him. Her hair was slightly disheveled, as if she'd been running her hands through it nervously while processing everything she'd heard.
She didn't speak right away.
She stood a few steps away from him.
"Are you okay?" she asked, low enough that only he could hear.
Daniel turned, surprised. For the briefest moment, he blinked, then his usual irritating half-smile formed.
"Why wouldn't I be?" he replied. "I'm protected by sarcasm... and a V8 engine."
"I don't know." She shrugged, but her eyes studied him with an attention that went beyond surface curiosity. "You seem... thoughtful. Like you're solving a puzzle."
"Just absorbing the spectacle," he said, keeping his tone light, while appreciating her perceptiveness.
She frowned slightly, unsure whether he was joking or not.
"And you?" Daniel tilted his head toward the table where she had been. "You seemed upset when I came in."
"What else could it be? Family." She let out a frustrated sigh. "They act like hiding the truth is going to save me."
Before he could respond, perhaps with a cynical remark or an observation about the futility of overprotection, Jim's voice cut through the air.
"Julie."
The tone wasn't exactly an order, but it carried that paternal weight that didn't accept being ignored.
She rolled her eyes, turning her head toward the table where her parents were sitting. The sheriff was there now, accompanied by Kenny, Father Khatri, and a robust woman Julie didn't recognize.
Daniel followed her gaze, noticing the tension in Jim's posture. The engineer clearly didn't like how close he and Julie were standing.
"I think you're being summoned," Daniel said, stepping aside to clear her path.
"Daniel, come here too," Sheriff Boyd called, motioning with his hand.
Julie glanced sideways at him, a playful, conspiratorial glint appearing in her eyes for the first time. "Looks like you're being summoned too, rebel."
"Then let's go," Daniel sighed. "Best not keep the authorities waiting. They get cranky when they lose control."
"As if you cared about authorities," she replied, already walking, expecting him to follow. There was a lightness in her step now, as if their brief conversation had eased the weight of the world.
When they reached the table, Ethan was the first to react.
"Daniel!" The boy practically jumped off the bench, eyes shining with pure excitement. "Did you see the drawing on the diner window? It looks like a monster... but kind of silly, right?"
Daniel leaned down slightly, resting his hands on his knees to be at eye level. "I did, kid. If that monster wanted to scare me, it needed to try harder. It looked like a kindergarten drawing."
Ethan laughed, satisfied, as if that completely resolved the issue.
Jim watched the interaction, attentive to every word.
Boyd cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention.
"This is Donna," he said, pointing to the woman beside Khatri. "She runs Colony House."
Donna was a force of nature compacted into a stocky body. Wild blond hair, piercing eyes that seemed to assess each person's worth in seconds. Her hands were large, calloused from hard work. She carried an authority that didn't require a uniform or badge.
"Nice to meet you," Donna said, her voice deep. She extended her hand first to Jim, who instinctively returned a firm handshake. Then to Tabitha, to Daniel, and finally to Julie, who received a surprisingly gentle grip.
Ethan just waved, a little shy under the woman's imposing presence.
"She's here to talk to you about the Choosing Ceremony," Boyd said.
"What choosing ceremony?" Jim frowned, shifting his gaze between the sheriff and Donna.
Father Khatri answered, hands clasped in front of him.
"All newcomers have to choose whether they'll live in town or at Colony House." He paused. "It's a tradition we keep to give people freedom of choice, wherever they feel most comfortable."
"Since you already know the town," Donna cut in, "I want to show you Colony House. See if it makes sense for you."
She smiled, but there was something calculated in the kindness. Not fake, just... strategic.
"It's a big house, Victorian style. A bit out of the way, but we've got space, structure, and a strong community." Donna slapped the table with her palm, the sound echoing. "There, nobody is alone. Everyone contributes. And everyone is protected."
Jim exchanged a look with Tabitha.
[She looks like the type who bakes homemade cookies and keeps a rifle under the bed.]
"I don't disagree."
"Could we visit?" Tabitha asked, her voice hesitant but interested. "Before deciding?"
"Of course." Donna nodded vigorously. "That's exactly what I was going to suggest. You can go right now if you want. I've got a van parked outside."
Before anyone could respond, a loud noise echoed.
Everyone turned their heads instantly.
Then came Tian-Chen's voice, sharp and desperate, cutting through the language barrier with pure panic.
"Help! Someone help!"
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