If her pentagram was useless, what else could she do? Sally Yan was as brave as anyone could be but the Great Wave was only moments away.

“Show yourself!” she bellowed. “Come out of the shadows and show yourself!” She might be helpless about heights but she wasn’t afraid to face evil.

The looming presence, the threat of absolute evil grew until her hair stood on end, hissing and crackling.

But nothing happened.

That was the true nature of evil, wasn’t it? It might threaten ultimate calamity. But if it showed itself, it wasn’t as frightening. She had already seen calm evil on the face of her father as he surrendered to the unspeakable.

She touched Lavinia’s smooth face and dark cascade of hair. So much passion and wit, and now dead. It had happened so fast, it had to be a trick. She could bring her back.

Why did she feel a wave of despair when she thought about bringing her beloved back?

She stood, running her fingers through her wild hair, determined to walk straight toward the evil presence. “I’m coming for you,” she muttered.

A low moan made her jump. The first physical sign of the returning Evil!

No. It was the kid, Rich. In the emerging moonlight she saw his frightened eyes. He was completely back now, not in some half world. But he was confused and hurting and his face was a dim bloody mess.

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Now that she didn’t have to play to his fantasies to stop him slipping back into nightmare, there was room for pity. She folded herself to the ground and sat cross-legged beside him and as she did, the image of the approaching wave dissolved away.

Was her bleak despair because this kid was still broadcasting? But no, this was just a badly hurt young man who would probably die even if Lavinia hadn’t killed him because he needed a doctor.

“Can you hear me?” she asked quietly. “I’m Sally and I’ll help you if I can.”

At that he wept, hissing with the pain as his broken face bones grated. “Huh-heh-heh,” he said, his attempt to say “help” coming out like lumpy oatmeal.

Sally had lived his last, awful night with him and guessed that he wasn’t aware of the intervening years. He had come fully back when Lavinia smashed him, still traumatized from the horror he’d been through, every corner of his frightened heart shriveling into dust.

If she supported him, he might just be able to stumble along through the dreadful forest back to the road.

But that was stupid. The Evil wouldn’t let them go. It would bring back the vampire who had chased Rich or it would open a pit and she would fall in, screaming in disgraceful, helpless terror.

But everything was as quiet as a frozen cemetery. There was no evil in the woods. It had withdrawn. And at that, the despair rose from the sea and took final form.

The Evil had offered her the game. It had truly withdrawn, taking all its works with it. Somewhere inside she was sure that Lavinia was still alive and could be brought back.

But the sane, the responsible, the world-saving thing to do … was to leave her.

Take the only other living human in this glade to safety. Leave Lavinia and Walter and Jesse and all these other vampires to eventually rot and turn into old bones.

This story could end without any orgy of blood-drenched gore. She could drag Rich to his feet and struggle miserably with him through pitch dark that held no terrors except falling on your face. She could reach the edge of the forest, sweating and grimy, and push on down the open hillside under moon and stars, leaving everything she cared for behind. The vampires were gone, the crisis was over.

If she walked away.

A sliver of moonlight gleamed like a tear in Lavinia’s unseeing eyes.