Oh, Jesus," Williams mumbled. He loosed the pistol from his waist and handed it to her. "Were-raptors, I think. How many bullets do you have in that thing?"

"All of them," she said. "The car's been our weapon. Were-raptors; what are—"

"Shhh, they're coming. Ank?"

The rustling intensified. Whatever it was, it was almost there.

"Get ready," said Williams, and sighted the dark.

And Luna emerged, holding Erik's hand with one arm and cradling her radio in the other, and everyone sighed. But their euphoria didn't last long—for it was immediately obvious there was something terribly wrong with her, something rattled, something haunted.

"Something's happened," she said, and sat the radio by the campfire. "I thought you'd better hear it."