Xir, in the form of the old man, stands with its slaves at the fallen tree blocking the road, staring out into the dusk. The road is clear and empty, but the scent on the wind does not lie. The virus is closing in, and closing in fast. The eunuchs shuffle their feet nervously, well aware of their master's ill temper and what it usually means for them. Complete silence reigns over the landscape, as Xir stares into the distance with tense anticipation. From the town square, a small group of men clad in NBC protective gear rushes over the barricade led by the sheriff.

"Clay." Xir greets the sheriff without bothering to turn around and address him.

"Great Xir, me and my boys are ready for action." Sheriff Clay announces proudly, "Any trouble shows up and you can leave it to us."

"Trouble, yes." Xir growls, "Did anyone follow you back here on the last raid?"

"No way." Clay scoffs, "We killed anything living, just like you said Great Xir. That dumb ass Prep King never knew what hit him. And Archie confirmed that all the food and water we brought back was clean."

Xir makes an annoyed gesture with his hand before continuing, "Fine. And the girl? Why haven't you been able to track her down yet?"

"We donno where's she hiding." Clay grumbles, "The woods are surprisingly big. And Archie thinks the girl knows some of that old world hocus pocus. We won't be able to find her until whatever money she has runs out."

Sheriff Clay speaks calmly, but internally his heart races, making it a struggle to keep his face from flushing. Archie had better be right about this. The skinny freak's plan sounded good on the surface, but Archie's not the one trying to peddle that bullshit to Xir.

Xir stares Clay with its cold, flinty eyes and the Sheriff instinctively takes several steps backward, recoiling under the inhuman gaze. Clay's hand pats at the was of money kept in his trouser's back pocket. If things went to hell, he would at least have a fighting chance. Archie had taught Clay the good shit, the type of magic that could actually hurt Xir. Of course, Archie could also be full of crap, hiding in the backroom of his store. He's not the one taking risks out here. But the mysterious grocer had been proven right many times. Clay had by now learned from experience that Archie always had some kind of card to play.

And that it was always better not to be on the skinny freak's bad side. The cashier Archie employed was exhibit A of that lesson. 'Bought and paid for'. That's how Archie referred to the woman. Clay didn't know what exactly Archie meant, but it was nothing good.

Xir grunts, satisfied with Clay's answer and goes back to glaring at the empty road. That was close. Too close. Clay wipes the sheen of sweat that had formed on his forehead with a handkerchief. He's too old to be dancing on eggshells everyday. But its too late now. The Sheriff should never had gotten involved with Archie and this crazy conspiracy.

"Tell your posse to keep searching." Xir snarls, "For the girl and the boy. I need them. This entire town needs them."

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"The boy?" Clay asks with mock innocence, "I thought he was at that house you lured him to?"

"Just find them!" Xir snaps angrily and goes back to ignoring the Sheriff.

And there you have it. Archie had predicted the boy would escape with his sister. Clay sighs in relief. Everything is going down as planned. The situation is under control. He's going to be a winner. And he's going to be the new big man in town once this is all over.

Archie had promised. And Archie had yet to be proven wrong. Clay just needs to play his part, and everything will be fine.

And the next 'act' as Archie put it, is about to start.

Xir suddenly snaps to full attention and roars at the top of his lungs, the fearsome noise forcing everyone behind the fallen tree to cower. And from the distance, a lonely yelp is heard. Clay peeks out from behind the bush he was hiding under and sees a small figure on all fours, limping towards their barricade.

"Just a mutt." Clay comments, as the lame dog drags itself forward, the bones of its ribs showing on the dirty almost threadbare fur. The mutt swings its head about, its milky white eyes blindly scanning its surroundings. The dog's entire body hitches upwards as its breath catches and mucus begins to drip from the mutt's wet, bleeding nose.

"Put the damn thing out of its misery, son." Clay orders one of his deputies. The deputy nods and levels his shotgun at the mutt, ready to fire.

"Stop -" Xir screams at the top of its voice, but its a second too late. The shotgun barks and the slug smacks straight into the emaciated animal, sending blood and guts spilling all over the ground.

The deputy is sent flying backwards from an enraged backhand delivered Xir and everyone falls on to their knees at the beast's wrath. Xir howls into the sky, causing the ground to shake.

"Great Xir," Clay asks nervously with his face firmly planted in a kowtow, "Did we do anything wrong?"

Xir grabs the Sheriff by the hair and lifts him up to eye level. The grip on his head gradually tightens and it feels that the man's skull might pop open like a peanut. Everyone else remains prostrated, awaiting their master to pass judgment. After a pregnant silence, Xir throws Clay back into the dirt.

"No rations for Sheriff Clay for the next week." Xir snarls, "He can eat bark and drink urine if he feels hungry."

"Thank you Great Xir!" Clay throws himself at the beast's feat in gratitude for this leniency. But the cunning man's eyes flick to the side, where he sees the mutt's blood eagerly seeping into the cracks across the ground.

Just like Archie said it would.

"I'll be at the church." Xir says, "Priests stay here and keep watch. Inform me the moment anything happens."

"Great Xir! Great Xir! Great Xir!" the priests chant as the old man leaves.

Clay gets back to his feet, his face contrite. But his heart leaps with elation. Everything is going to plan.

And Xir won't be so 'great' for much longer.