"You're doing what?" Irene was as alarmed by the announcement as Fi had been. Molly and Jack didn't bother to clarify their intentions, instead continuing their search through the Phillips house for potentially useful items.
"Salt?" asked Jack, holding up a container of Morton's. "I heard if you make a circle around you, or something, you're immune from attack."
"Can't hurt," Molly shrugged, rummaging through cabinets and closets. "Toss it in the bag."
"You can't do that," Irene persisted. "What if you get hurt? Then what happens?"
"Then we join our friends in the hospital, or we die for a good cause," Molly finally said, more than a little frustrated. "Look, we can't just sit around here going, 'gee, I wish we knew what happened out there.' This thing, whatever it is, went after the people we love. There's a very strong protection instinct that kicks in when a member of your family is nearly killed, Irene, and frankly, I'm surprised you're trying to stop us instead of help us."
"This is foolish. You'll probably just make things worse. Please don't go out there."
"Ooh, look, honey, a little axe." Molly held up a small red-handled hammer for Jack's approval. He nodded, and she tossed it into the ever-fuller supply bag.
There was a tentative knock at the door, and then the screen banged open as Carey let himself in. Surprised by the increasing amount of desperate-search clutter, he let out a low whistle. "What's going on?"
"Molly and Jack are intent on killing themselves tonight," Irene said. "They're going out to fight some crazed killer with a little axe and some salt."
"Count me in."
Molly stopped rummaging for a moment and looked up. "No."
"No?"
"No."
"I have just as much right to go out there and get myself killed as you do."
"No, you don't. You need to stay inside and the two of you need to stay safe. Lock your doors and windows, don't drive your car. We think whatever this is--and it's clearly not a crazed killer, because nobody's dead yet--might follow its victims in search of more."
"Rope?" Jack suggested, and she nodded shortly.
"That's bullshit," Carey said. "I'm not going to sit around here while you go out there and confront whoever it is that's tried to kill my father and two of my best friends."
She paused. "That's understandable, and it's certainly laudable, but the answer is still no."
"Okay, I think the bag's full enough now," Jack said, dragging the duffel bag toward the front door. "Ready to go?"