Sally had meant to go into the crypt alone. But Jesse, happy for a chance to be more than some fantasy’s puppet, stepped up to help her. Walter stood protectively at his side, though the divide between them was as deep as it was paper thin.

She motioned them to go first. It went against her grain but if they were going to get turned again, she wanted them where she could see them.

Lavinia’s voice kept up its thread of domineering patter. Sally turned to look at her one last time (why did every single thing seem so significant?). Lavinia waved her on and Sally did not see the piece of jagged stone Lavinia had picked up.

Far above, the glaring moon whitened the sky except for cold and ancient stars. But beyond the first few steps, the opening was black. Sally finally flicked on her flashlight, shining a fragile beam which cut through darkness as solid as packed earth.

The white marble that she remembered from the kid’s nightmare was streaked and blackened. Rubble was everywhere, including on the steps: Jesse’s foot turned, Walter caught him and they both fell to the bottom and slammed against a wall. She ignored her natural urge to run to them and waited while they glided upright in that eerie vampire way that she hated. Walter gave her a thumbs up.

She descended into the dreaded chamber. The marble coffin that Rich had been sure held a vampire had been blown open from the inside. Chunks had been hurled everywhere, gouging the walls and even the ceiling.

She shone her thin light here and there, expecting at every moment to see a ghastly face. Perhaps the masked face that still pushed into her nightmares?

But the room was as settled as old soot. She hadn’t reached the center of the storm at all. This was just a room built by some long ago duke or prince as a resting place.

When she stood with Jesse and Walter at the foot of the stairs, the thought came to her: I’m the only human for miles around. Quickly she shone the light into their eyes so that they winced and Jesse lifted a protesting hand. But they were both themselves. Jesse struggled with his gashed throat and his feelings while Walter carried his shame and tried to look cheerful.

She picked her way across the uneven floor to the sarcophagus. Rich had heard a boom just as the sun set and had been sure it was the vampire rising, letting the marble lid drop.

But he’d been too far away to hear anything like that, hadn’t he? He had heard the sound of whatever explosion had ripped this tomb apart.

She knelt at the edge of the ruin. The lid was completely gone and the side was partly crumbled. It looked like a baptismal font. Her light climbed the chunk of sharp stone that remained, passed over the blackened, gleaming heat-fused edge, and settled on what remained in the crypt. A layer of ash. She reached out trembling fingers.

The ash was made of glittering shards of crystal that chittered like teeth.

She jerked her hand back but it was too late. Her fingertips had made contact…

The masked jiāngshī, the dreaded zombie vampire from her childhood, laid a stiffened hand on her shoulder…