AARON Our car fell in behind the Hutchinsons, turning onto the road that ran alongside the massive Haven Assembly Hall. I looked at the structure. Its primary Outer Vehicle Court was a solid block of parked cars. I started to doubt we would find any space at all. In fact, families had already parked along the side of the road and in the vacant lot directly across the street. We saw people abandoning their vehicles and sprinting across the pavement to the safety of the church doors. Our car’s system came alive then, informing me the local traffic management for the Assembly Hall showed zero available spaces. My only options were to select a new destination or take manual control and find parking myself. The dashboard glowed with virtual controls. I rested my palm against it. I steered us off the road, following the Hutchinsons’ tail lights into the emptying lot. It was rapidly filling with other late arrivals, though it looked like our car might be the very last one allowed in. At least for this moment. “We need to move fast. I do not want us to be out here by ourselves,” I said. The image from nature documentaries flashed in my mind. The lone animal separated from the herd. Always the most vulnerable. Always the first to fall. “Where are the parking attendants?” Elena asked. I stared at her with pure bewilderment. With all of this happening, that was her concern? I let the question hang and parked our Compact Cruiser right beside the Hutchinsons’. They had already pulled their small daughter from her carrier base in the back seat and were rushing to cross the street, heading for the Assembly Hall entrance.I got out as quickly as I could, pulling open Lucas’s door and reaching in to unstrap him. Elena gathered our most portable supplies from the back. I was nearly done with the buckles when I noticed his feet were bare. “Buddy, why are you still taking off your shoes in the car?” I asked, exasperation sharp in my voice. Our son had chosen this moment, of all moments, to continue his frustrating habit. “I do not like wearing them in the car. It is not comfortable,” he said, his voice small. I leveled my gaze at him. “Buddy, we really need to get inside the Assembly Hall right now. Where are your shoes?” His little hand pointed toward the tangled mass of blankets, stuffed animals, paperbacks, and plastic toys that cluttered the footwell. I bit back my next comment. Stressed or not, I would not be a jerk to my son. I quickly leaned over him, my hands rummaging through the nest of comfort and distraction we kept in the car. My fingers brushed something sticky and hard. Fossilized mini pancakes. I threw them out onto the gravel without a second thought. “When all of this is over, I am making you clean this entire car,” I grumbled, but without real heat. My hand finally closed around a small sneaker. I placed it in Lucas’s lap and kept searching, finding its mate a second later. As Lucas struggled with the first shoe, I took care of the second, tying it snugly. Then I lifted my only child from his seat. I gave him a quick peck on his warm cheek and whispered, “Sorry I got frustrated with you, buddy.” With that, the three of us took off toward the road. The Hutchinsons were already out of sight, swallowed by the flow of people. We weaved through the cars still clogging the empty lot, then broke into a jog across the street.As we entered the Assembly Hall’s own parking area and the large main doors came into clear view, a wave of reassurance washed over me. We were going to be okay. We had made it. “Where are the guards?” Elena asked, her voice tight. “What is it with you and all these questions right now?” I shot back, not slowing our pace. “No, really, Aaron. Why are there no guards outside the doors?” “They are not soldiers, Elena. They are volunteers. Why would they even think to post armed guards?” I said. The logic felt thin even to me. We kept running for the entrance. Then Elena’s hand clamped onto my arm like a vice, yanking me to a sudden stop. Lucas stumbled against my leg. “What are you doing?” I asked, irritation flaring.“Stop talking,” she ordered, her voice a low hiss. I opened my mouth to snap at her, but then I heard it too. What she must have heard a second before. A woman’s scream. High and raw. Cutting through the night. Elena yanked my arm again, pulling Lucas and me behind the bulk of a parked Utility Rover. I pushed Lucas down and placed a steadying hand on top of his head. Then I slowly raised my own head, peering over the lip of the Rover’s door, looking through its windows at the brightly lit entrance of the Assembly Hall. Everything seemed peaceful. The lights were on. The doors were shut. Elena pressed close beside me, also looking. Lucas began to squirm underneath my hand, whispering, “What is going on, Daddy?” Just as I started to think we had imagined the sound, another scream shattered the quiet. It was closer. More desperate. The main doors of the Assembly Hall burst inward. A woman stumbled out into the night. I was almost certain it was Heather Hutchinson. Her white blouse was a mess of dark, spreading red. Her feet were bare. She must have lost her shoes trying to escape. Her hair whipped around her face in the wind. My body was already moving, instinct taking over to shift Lucas toward Elena’s arms, when her hand slammed down on my shoulder. Not for the last time, she stopped me from trying to be a hero. I looked at her. Her face was pale. Her eyes were wide. She shook her head vigorously, once. Staring down at Lucas, who was peeking around the tire. His eyes were huge, glistening with pure fear. Looking into them, I knew yet again that my wife was right. I did not know what was chasing Mrs. Hutchinson out of that building, and my only job was to protect our family from it.