Lincoln checked all of the places Lana went when she was upset, but didn't find her. Beginning to worry, he hopped on his bike and rode around the neighborhood. Though there were many kids out playing, none of them were Lana.

When he returned home, the sun had set, and the sky was a fiery orange smear tinged with cool purple. He parked by the garage and went in the back door. Luan was sitting at the kitchen table going over a sheet of paper (new jokes, probably) while, across from her, Lucy read. In the living room, Luna was on the couch watching VH1 and Lisa was fiddling around with a bunch of test tubes. Lynn tossed a tennis ball against the wall and jumped to catch it before it smashed into anything. As he entered, mom appeared at the bottom of the stairs, a worried expression on her face. "Has anyone seen Lana?"

"No," Lynn said, "not in a while."

"Me either," Luna said.

"Nor have I," Lisa piped in.

"I was looking for her," Lincoln. "She's still missing?"

Without replying, mom went into the kitchen, and appeared a moment later. "I'm going to drive around and look for her." She scooped Lilly off the floor. "Lucy, Lisa, and Lola, come with me."

"What about me?" Lincoln asked.

"Stay here in case she comes back."

Mom and the younger girls left. Lincoln watched through the front window as they piled into the van and pulled out.

"Come on, guys," Lincoln said, "family meeting."

In the kitchen, he, Luna, Luan, and Lynn sat at the kitchen table. "Alright," Lincoln said, "Lana's been missing for a couple hours now. No one's seen her?"

Everyone shook their heads. "The last time I saw her she was outside," Luan said.

"The last time I saw her was when we came in," Lynn added.

Lincoln sighed. He was starting to get scared. "Alright, we have to search this house from top to bottom."

Dad came into the kitchen from the garage, a flashlight in his hand. "I'll check outside."

"I already did," Lincoln said.

"Well, I'll do it again."

He went out the back door and closed it behind him.

"Lynn and I will start on the second floor," Lincoln said. "Luan, you and Luna check the first floor and the basement."

"Right," Luna said.

They split up then, Lincoln and Lynn climbing up the stairs. Lincoln started in his room while Lynn started in hers. He checked under the bed, under his desk, and even in the vents. Nothing. He moved to Luan and Luna's room and did the same. Still nothing. He was just coming into the hall when Lynn tried Lori and Leni's room. The knob wouldn't turn.

"It's locked," she said.

Lincoln came over and tried the handle himself. It wouldn't turn. Lori and Leni never locked their door. Lana had to be in there.

Lincoln knocked. "Lana? Are you in there?"

No reply.

"We're going to have to knock it down," Lincoln said. "She might be hurt."

Lynn held up her hand. "Let me."

She reared back her foot and kicked close to the knob. The door popped open and slammed against the wall. Lincoln went in and snapped on the light. "Lana...?"

What he saw stopped him.

A naked, headless body was propped up on the blood-soaked bed, its arms bent and broken. Another body, this one also missing its head, lie across the foot of the bed, its chest cavity open. Nasua washed over Lincoln, and he turned away. Lynn saw, and gasped.

"That's...that's Lori!"

Lincoln knew, but hearing it spoken aloud pushed him over the edge. He ran into the bathroom and threw up in the toilet, unthinkingly grabbing the shower curtain and pulling it down. A stream of hot bile shot from his mouth. His knees shook.

"Lincoln!" Lynn screamed.

Lincoln looked up. Lana was hanging from the showerhead, the nozzle hooked through one of her overall straps. Her head was broken and bloody. Her eyes were open and bulging in terror.

Lincoln puked again, his tiny frame shaking. Lynn was sobbing.

"We have to call somebody..." she said through her tears. "The cops...an ambulance..."

Lincoln got shakily to his knees. Tears were starting to stream down his face. "The soldiers," he said, "we have to get Luan and Luna and get to the soldiers."

In the basement, Luna checked under the stairs and under a work bench while Luan checked by the hot water heater.

"I don't see anything," Luan said.

At the furnace, Luna stopped. "Neither do I."

"What about in there?"

"The furnace?"

"Why not? She could fit."

Luna shrugged and opened the door. Her body went rigid and she screamed.

"What?" Luan asked, rushing over. When she saw, her heart dropped.

Leni's face stared back at them, pale and covered in blood. She was wearing her sunglasses.

"Leni!" Luna finally screamed, coming alive. She reached in to touch her sister's face, and it was cold. The movement knocked the sunglasses away, and when Luan saw the empty, bloody sockets, she puked.

"We have to get dad!" Luna yelled.

In the kitchen, they met with Lincoln and Lynn, both of whom looked as terrible as they, Luna and Luan, felt.

"Lana's dead," Lincoln blurted. "We found her in the shower."

"Lori too," Lynn stammered. "And Bobby."

"L-Leni's in the furnace," Luan said, "she's..."

The pantry door exploded open, and a giant, hulking thing in a mask stepped into the kitchen. Luan screamed.

It came forward, raising a huge blade over its head, and the Loud kids scattered, Lincoln flying to the front door with Lynn hot on his heels. Luna ducked into the basement, while Luan remained frozen, unable to move.

At the front door, Lincoln pawed frantically at the knob. "Hurry!" Lynn wailed.

He got the door open, but glanced over his shoulder and saw the monster advancing on Luan, who shook and cringed where she was. Lincoln's heart rocketed into his throat. "Luan!"

The girl gave no sign that she had heard.

Cursing, Lincoln ran back into the kitchen. "Hey!"

The monster paused and looked at him.

"Yeah," Lincoln said, scarcely able to hear the sound of his voice over the pounding of his heart, "you. Come here. Ugly."

The monster shuddered, and came after him.

"Run, Luan!"

Luan came alive then, and threw herself at the back door. She clawed helplessly at the handle, her hands shaking. Why wouldn't it open?

When the door finally opened, she fled screaming into the night. The soldiers in the forest had set up a number of floodlights, and as she approached, crying for help, she saw several of them look up.

When, from nowhere, one grabbed her by her arms, she screamed and broke down.

"What's the matter?" the man barked. "Are you okay."

"T-There's a man in my house...he killed my sisters."

The soldier froze. "A man? What does he look like?"

"I-I don't know. He's big and he has a mask."

"Holy shit," the soldier said, "it's him. Call General Teal. We got him!"

-2-

Lincoln backed slowly into the living room as the monster followed. The creature moved with the slow deliberation of an animal advancing on trapped and frightened prey. "Come on, Lincoln!" Lynn yelled from the porch.

Luan fought with the backdoor. Come on, Lincoln thought, come on.

When she got it open and disappeared, Lincoln turned and bolted, Lynn running ahead of him. When he looked back, he saw the monster coming out of the house, not running, not even walking, but strolling.

-3-

Jason paused on the front step. The boy and girl cut across the front lawn and ran up the street, screaming as they went. He shook with rage. They always ran. And he always caught them.

He took a step forward, but the sound of a voice stopped him. "Freeze, asshole!"

He turned slowly and was met with the sight of a dozen men in camouflage advancing through the living room, their rifles trained on him. Soldiers. Just like the ones who had taken him away from his home.

Jason hated soldiers.

"Don't move," one of them growled. He came forward, and Jason chucked the machete at him like a spear. It pierced his stomach. A look of agony crossed his face. He depressed the trigger, and a burst of gunfire sounded, the bullets missing Jason and hitting the wall.

The others opened up then. Bullets struck Jason's chest, legs, and face, tearing away bits of rotted flesh, Jason flinched and jerked, but felt no pain, only anger, rising, growing. Moving forward, he snatched a rifle from one of the soldiers and hit him with it so hard that his head shattered. The others screamed and started to flee. Jason grabbed one by the back of his shirt and flung him into the wall. It cracked. Framed pictures fell to the carpet and broke. He snatched another by his arm and yanked. The limb came off with a sickening pop, and the man screamed, dancing back, a jet of blood shooting from his ragged stump. Jason swung the arm, and it connected with his head. The crack was satisfying.

The others were running through the kitchen and out the back door. Jason followed, grabbing his machete from the chest of the first fallen soldier. At the back door, he paused. Soldiers were crouched behind various obstacles, some advancing in a crouch. Someone yelled when they saw him, and they all opened fire. Bullets smashed into the side of the house, shattered windows, and sank into Jason's cold, dead body. A burst struck his mask, and it broke into a million little pieces, revealing his skeletal face: Wide, boring eye-sockets; lipless mouth pulled back over crooked teeth; sunken cheeks.

Though he jerked and shook, Jason advanced.