After a few minutes, the prickly sensation left my legs and I stood up. Cassie didn’t want to go back in the Tagon. After a minute or two of useless persuasion, I resorted to a delayed bribe: I’d let her share a pack of fruit snacks with her brothers after we got home. I still had to pry her hands off me when I lifted her in, but she let me do it and didn’t have a tantrum or try to dive out.

Scott was eager to see if his dogs could sense the badblankets, but no one suggested trying on the next one we found.

“Wow, Mom! That one is not as good at hiding as the others,” Micah laughed.

The patterned camouflage of the badblanket was still perfect, but unlike its cousins it wasn’t holding its body flush against the ground. It rose in a mounded lump that might not have attracted attention in a muddy field or a forest floor, but was all-too-obvious on the relatively flat pavement. As we watched, the whole lump shivered slightly. I heard someone cry out as it moved, and another person retched.

“Let’s… let’s go around this one, okay? The right side of the street is still clear.” I didn’t want to see what was under that badblanket, and I really didn’t want my kids to see. Gavin and Micah were looking around in confusion. It was obvious to them that the adults didn’t find this badblanket funny, but they weren’t quite making the connections they needed to figure out what was going on. Thank God.

“Go ahead,” said Mindy. “I’ll follow. I need to, uh, re-tie my boots. I think I’ve got something inside my sock.” Carlos and a few others stayed behind to keep her company. Not the family with teens. Not the father of the young girl.

Their bodies formed a wall behind us, blocking the badblanket from sight. Nothing blocked the screeching sounds it made as they killed it, but at least we didn’t have to watch. Carlos borrowed Mindy’s hatchet and slammed it into a nearby bush.

“What are they doing, Mommy?” called Gavin.

I wasn’t sure how to answer.

Dog Guy Scott came to my rescue. “Don’t you think that badblanket was a little weird, Dr. Gavin? They’re probably just checking some things out. Do you think a badblanket would eat a bush?”

His question caught Gavin’s attention. My six-year-old went off on a rambling monologue about what he thought badblankets would and wouldn’t eat, and how he thought bushes would taste, and a number of other things. I think we were all grateful for the distraction of his stream-of-consciousness speech. The occasional leafenrat fights barely interrupted him.

It wasn’t long before the group caught back up with us. A pile of branches hid what they’d left behind them.

“Four legs?” I asked Mindy hopefully.

“No. Two.”

I missed a step, then caught myself. “Was it… Did you…”

Mindy understood the question I wasn’t asking.

“I would gauge the time of expiration to be several hours prior, but cannot pinpoint the moment with precision. The accoutrements appeared familiar and masculine, but severe degradation of the upper extremities made identification impossible.”

I hoped her slew of ten-dollar words and medical jargon would be enough to keep Micah from putting it together. That poor man. Had he been on his way home from our meetup? It seemed likely. Most of the people who’d left early had left together, but not everyone. Maybe Pointy would know who he was. I couldn’t remember.

I was grateful when the next badblanket we found was flat as a pancake. It had camped out a few feet from Mindy’s doorstep, and I could see two younger kids and a teenager pressing their faces to the window as we approached. Scott led the dogs over one at a time, but none would step onto the badblanket, and several barked or growled at it. Scott rewarded those dogs with a piece of dry kibble from a bag he kept in his pocket.

Scott was instantly inundated with requests to adopt his rescued animals. Even some people who already owned dogs wanted to adopt, since these dogs already knew and understood the danger the monsters presented. Scott grudgingly agreed to most of the requests, but first he gave an impromptu speech about appropriate dog diets and needs and made sure everyone could recite the basics back to him. I don’t think he was happy watching the dogs leave with such little preparation, but it was obvious that their sense of smell would save lives.

The discovery of the dogs’ capability took a lot of the burden off me. I continued to lead the way as we dropped people off at their homes, but Scott and his pack followed up on each monster I found. He continued to reward his remaining animals, until every dog had made the connection between barking at a badblanket and getting treats. Well, almost every dog. There was this one Afghan who seemed completely confused by the whole affair, and another little terrier who kept barking at random things and looking at Scott hopefully. The vast majority seemed to understand.

Finally, we made it to the end of our driveway.

“This is our house. My kids are tired, so I don’t want to keep going tonight. You can sleep here though, if you like.”

I could tell everyone was thinking about my offer.

Dog Guy Scott was the first to shake his head. “Nah. I’m gonna keep going. I’ve covered a lot of the neighborhood, but it was slow going even before these badblankets. I still haven’t made it down Sienna or Ochre, let alone anywhere in Royal Woods.”

Royal Woods was the ritzy subdivision south of us. It was contiguous with our neighborhood, nominally. No major roads divided us. But if our neighborhood was full of brick facades and two-car garages, their neighborhood was dominated by all-brick homes with four-car garages. You kind of knew when you passed from one into the other.

“I think I’m good,” Darryl said. “I think Sir Fluffbutt here used to belong to Nana’s neighbor. I recognize him. We’ll get each other home and I can raid his house for more kibble tomorrow.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “That’s a long way to go on your own.”

“Yeah, I gotta,” he said. His voice sounded confident, but the helmet hid his face. “Y’all don’t know my grandma. If I don’t come home, I swear Nana Helen will come out looking for me. If you could kill these monsters with pure stubbornness, that’d be fine, but...” he trailed off.

“Alright,” I said, doubtfully. His grandma wouldn’t really charge out into monsters alone, would she? I felt like he could wait, but I didn’t know Helen personally.

Of course, the badblankets would still be there tomorrow. Maybe he was right not to delay.

Carlos gestured at the parents and teens still with us. “The Browns already offered to put me up for the night if I’d walk them the rest of the way home.” That made sense. Their house had been one of the few we’d visited before the incident at the Olsens. They were just around the corner. Not far.

They helped me clear my front yard, and I towed the Tagon over the doorstep. We went inside and shut the door.

I took the lid off the Tagon and lifted Cassie out, then started to take off my gear. It took me three tries to get my helmet off because my fingers were shaking and I kept dropping the clasp.

“Mom?” asked Micah. “Are you okay?”

“I…” I looked into his worried eyes. All my kids were looking at me, concerned.

I’d been trying for so long.

Trying to keep them safe.

Trying to keep them healthy.

Trying to keep them happy.

Trying to be strong.

The kids had learned so much lately. Many of the things they’d learned were things I’d never wanted to teach them, like how to fight monsters and how to bounce back after an injury.

But here they were, still reaching out, still worried about me. Trying to take care of me.

Maybe it was okay to let them. Once in a while.

“You know what? I’m not. I’m not okay.” I made sure to keep my voice soft. “I’ve been trying to take care of all of us, but it’s hard. Apparently, it’s just going to keep getting harder. I miss your Daddy and I’m just really… tired.”

My voice broke on the last word and I realized I was crying. Not just a little water leaking out of my eyes, legitimately chest-heaving crying. Shit. I didn’t want to be like this in front of the kids! I tried to stop, but I knew if I was sobbing my eyes were already red and the tears were leaving blotchy paths down my face. I just didn’t have the physiology to cry in a graceful or dignified way. My crying aesthetic was less elegant tragic princess and more pitiable tissue-burrowing frog - it always had been. If I’d gotten this far, I really couldn’t hide my emotions.

I felt Gavin grab my side. Cassie attached herself to my leg in a fierce hug. Micah grabbed my hand and tried to smile at me, but he couldn’t quite manage it. The kids had all started crying too. I sat down, right there on the floor, and wrapped my arms around all three.

A few minutes later, when we’d gotten the worst of it out of our systems, I heard Micah’s voice, quiet. “I’m worried about Dad, too.”

“I really miss him,” whispered Gavin.

“Will Daddy ever be home?” asked Cassie.

The question hit me like an arrow. I had to close my eyes and take a deep breath before even trying to answer, so I didn’t lose it again. “I hope so,” I said. “I really hope so. But I think it might take him a very long time.”

“He said he would play unicorns with me when he got home,” said Cassie, seriously. “He was too busy when I asked, but he said he would play when he came home. He promised.”

I stared at her. Vince had been gone for over a week, so this must have happened just before he left, while he was packing. How did she remember things like that?

“I could play with you,” I said.

Cassie considered this offer and then shook her head. “No. You are not as good at unicorns as Daddy. He makes better noises and he is funny when I ride his back.”

Gavin pushed at Cassie. “Don’t tell Mommy she is bad at unicorns! You’ll make her more sad.”

Cassie gave me a guilty look.

“It’s okay,” I told her. “I know you didn’t mean it that way.”

I could keep us safe, I hoped.

I couldn’t fill the hole Vince’s absence left in our lives. I didn’t even want to.