David's stomach churned as he approached the back door. Now that the immediate violence had ended, he could see broken glass scattered across the counter. Dark streaks marked the linoleum floor like accusatory fingers.

  As he rounded the counter into the kitchen, he found Katie.

  She lay crumpled in the corner near the sink, a trail of blood leading from a broken jug and shattered glasses in a lake of lemonade on the island. For a terrifying moment, David thought she was dead.

  Then her chest rose with an irregular, labored breath.

  "She's alive! Come quickly!"

  David was practically trampled as Camila and Mark rushed past him toward the kitchen. He pressed himself against the wall, watching them drop to their knees beside Katie with frantic urgency.

  Blood oozed from a nasty gash extending from her shoulder down her back. Too much blood.

  David's analytical mind kicked into overdrive as the others focused on Katie. They'd killed one creature, but there were two open doors and he had no idea where the thing had come from. That had been part of why he came in here in the first place. Carl was also injured, though not as critically.

  Securing the apartment fell to him.

  He moved to the back door, hockey stick ready and peered out at a small unfinished landing with wooden stairs leading down. The staircase took a bite out of the corner of the apartment building, creating blind spots where anything could hide.

  Seeing nothing immediately threatening, he quickly shut the door and engaged both the lock and safety chain. His hands shook slightly as he worked the mechanisms.

  The front door received the same treatment. Double-locked, chain secured. Not foolproof, but it would buy them warning time even if the things were incredibly strong.

  David returned to check on Carl, who sat staring at the crumpled remains of their attacker. Without the swift, sinuous movement that had made it so terrifying, the creature looked smaller somehow and pathetic. It was easy to see the remains of a person who had been twisted now it wasn’t snaking forward to slash with bladelike arms.

  Morbid curiosity took over, even as the crisis continued in the kitchen he stared at the monster, looking for clues

  David forced himself to move closer and immediately regretted it. Now he was looking he could see a ring was embedded in the left fused claw that had once been a human hand. A gold crucifix was partially embedded in the chest, along with pieces of what might once have been pajamas.

  This thing had been a person, hell it could have been him. Someone who'd gone to bed normally just a few nights ago and woken up as a monster.

  The smell hit him then. Copper and something sweet that made his throat close. David shut his eyes and took several deep breaths, which only made it worse. Desperately he turned away looking for something to distract himself.

  "Are you okay?" he asked Carl, then caught himself. "Sorry, stupid question. How bad is it?"

  Carl looked at him strangely, as if seeing him for the first time. "You said something and we all stopped. I could feel my body seizing up for a second, and that thing froze. What was that?"

  "My magic skill. Halt. Does pretty much what it says." David examined the alarming amount of blood around Carl's leg. "Can you move?"

  Carl winced and flexed experimentally. "Hurts like hell and it's still bleeding, but I can move. Makes it bleed more though." He paused as reality sank in. "I need stitches. Antibiotics. Hospital."

  Then his face went pale. "Oh God. There are no hospitals, are there? Not really."

  David moved over to the island grabbed a kitchen towel and handed it to him. "Apply pressure. We'll figure it out."

  From the kitchen, Mark's voice carried the authority of someone taking charge. "We need to clean this wound and stop the bleeding. Hot water, rubbing alcohol, anything from the medicine cabinet, clean towels, scissors."

  A pause, then more gently: "Focus, Camila. I need you to focus. Get me a clean kitchen towel."

  David could hear the soft hiss of the camp stove being lit, the sound oddly domestic against the backdrop of crisis.

  "David, Carl, I need your help!" Mark called.

  "I'm helping Carl," David replied. "He's hurt too. Not as bad as Katie, but he can't move easily."

  "Okay, come help us. We need to get Katie to the couch where there's better light. Minimal jostling."

  David looked at Carl. "Can you manage pressure on that wound for a few minutes?"

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  Carl nodded grimly, pressing the towel against his leg.

  David joined Mark and Camila around Katie. Tears streamed silently down Camila's face as she stared at her blood-covered hands. Mark held a towel pressed to the gash in Katie's back, the white fabric already discolored.

  His face looked drawn but determined, moving with the confidence of someone with medical training. David wondered if anything like this was covered in first aid classes?

  "Camila, David, I need you to lift Katie. One on each side. David, use her arm to help. Camila and I will support her so I can keep pressure on the wound. On three."

  They lifted poorly, jostling Katie enough to make her groan. The sound of pain actually helped focus them, and with better coordination they managed to move past the body to the couch.

  David tried not to look at the inhuman shape as they passed.

  Mark positioned Katie face-down with her injured arm propped above her head. "David, keep pressure on the wound. Camila, get anything medical from the bathroom and boil water."

  While Mark triaged Carl, showing him proper pressure technique and giving him a clean towel, David found himself processing what had just happened.

  He'd killed something. Used magic for the first time. Saved lives.

  The creature had been human once.

  His hands trembled slightly as he maintained pressure on Katie's wound, feeling her blood staining the towel he was pressing on sticky against his fingers. The warmth of it was disturbing in ways he couldn't articulate.

  Camila returned with a tub of supplies from the bathroom - first aid kit, hand sanitizer, rubbing alcohol, various bottles and tubes. She placed everything on the coffee table along with clean towels.

  Then she turned toward the thing on the floor and froze.

  "Madre de Dios." Her voice came out strangled. "It's Mr. Lopez."

  The choking sound she made before bolting to the bathroom seemed to echo in David's bones.

  They all heard her retching. Mark looked sick but kept working.

  "Their landlord," he said quietly. "I met him once. Sweet old man. Went to the same church as Camila."

  Mark walked to a wicker basket and pulled out a blanket. As he covered the twisted body, he spoke softly: "Rest in peace, old man. You didn't deserve this."

  David stared at the covered form, trying to reconcile the monster they'd killed with the description of a sweet old man. His analytical mind recoiled from the implications.

  If Mr. Lopez could transform, anyone could. Everyone they'd known, everyone they'd cared about, could become something that needed to be killed.

  The weight of that realization settled over him like lead.

  When Camila emerged from the bathroom, pale but composed, Mark had laid out their improvised medical supplies.

  "Hospital's out for now," he said matter-of-factly. "We need to get Katie stable and Carl mobile. I wish we had a better kit."

  "Sarah has a great medical kit," Camila offered. "She takes it camping. It's in the basement with her gear."

  She stopped, looking sick again. "I'd have to go past Mr. Lopez's apartment to get there."

  Mark's expression grew grim. "Don't. Let's see if we have enough here."

  David and Carl exchanged confused looks.

  "Mrs. Lopez is still unaccounted for," Mark explained. "She could be in a coma like Sarah. Or she could be another one of those things. Or..."

  "Or she might be dead," Camila finished. "Her heart was bad. Mr. Lopez was always worried about her taking her meds on time."

  David felt another piece of the puzzle click into place. The transformation process wasn't quick. Everyone was in a race, get themselves awake like him and the others or find out what got you first. Transformation or your body giving out. He went cold as he thought about that.

  His parents took daily medications. His sister was healthy but that just increased the odds of this happening.

  The hollow feeling in his chest deepened.

  Mark scrubbed his hands and dunked tools in boiling water with practiced efficiency. "I can probably patch Carl up with what we have, but I need more for Katie. Honestly, more for Carl too. His cut is deep enough that I want butterfly or stitch.”

  There was a pause while he thought then “Peroxide to clean the wounds properly. Something to keep them closed. I could stitch if we have nylon thread or fishing line…"

  He held up the small bottle of rubbing alcohol. "This won't be enough. If we don't clean these wounds right, infection will kill just as surely as blood loss. Again, we could improvise if we use the expensive vodka but…"

  David watched Mark working and thinking, noting the confidence in his movements, the way he automatically organized supplies and prioritized tasks. "You have medical training."

  It wasn't a question.

  Mark nodded without looking up. "EMT certification. Volunteering with the fire department for two years for the training. I’m a little out of practice now, I mostly deal with sprains and bloody noses at Aikido tournaments these days. Never thought I'd be doing field surgery in my girlfriend’s living room."

  The admission brought both relief and new pressure. They had someone with actual medical knowledge, but even that expertise had limits in their current situation.

  "Someone needs to get that kit from the basement, plus any fishing supplies, I need to boil needles from a sewing kit, boil the thread" Mark continued. "Katie's losing too much blood, and what I can do with this..." He gestured at their meager supplies. "It's not enough."

  David looked at the covered body, then at Carl's bloody leg, then at Katie's pale face. The decision formed with cold logic.

  "I'll go."

  "David, no," Camila protested. "Mrs. Lopez could be down there. She could be like... like he was."

  "Then I'll deal with it." His voice came out steadier than he felt. "I have magic. I have experience fighting these things now."

  He picked up the hockey stick, testing its weight. "Mark needs those supplies. Katie needs them. We all do."

  David looked around the room at these people he met hours ago. His friends – the realization was one of those moments of clarity.

  This is what people mean when they say brothers in arms…

  It was an epiphany. His responsibility now, whether he'd asked for it or not. Camila's tear-stained face. Carl's pain-tight expression. Katie's unconscious form. Mark's desperate competence.

  "How long do I have?" he asked.

  Mark checked Katie's pulse, his face grim. "Faster is better. I’ll need some time to sterilize and prep once I have everything. The bleeding's slowing, but she's lost a lot already." The helpless way he spoke only highlighted the limits of his knowledge – or maybe his fear of making a call for Katie.

  David nodded. Get to the basement, find the medical kit, and get back. While potentially facing another transformed human in close quarters.

  His analytical mind was already working through contingencies, but underneath the logic ran a current of pure terror.

  He'd killed Mr. Lopez. Could he kill Mrs. Lopez too if it came to that?

  David gripped the hockey stick tighter and headed for the back door. Some questions could only be answered in the moment of truth.

  Time to find out what kind of person he really was.