Yes, but can they survive long enough?

A few hours earlier at the Shipbottom mansion, Sergeant Fulton had completed his press conference on the **** of Carter Shipbottom. This being a small town this meant a sparse number of reporters in attendance. One from the local daily newspaper, one from a weekly circular that rarely covered news more pressing than Little League baseball, a two-person crew from the local closed circuit TV station, a more professional three-person crew from the nearby state cable news station. and a podcaster who saw himself as the lone true newshound despite earning a living as a meter reader.

And because this was a small town, most of the reporters did not find it odd that the press conference was being held inside the mansion instead of outside it. The one who picked up on it was Trent Walls of the Daily Beckoner. But even he had no idea that the reason for being indoors was that Sergeant Fulton had become one of the undead and needed to stay out of the sun. When the mish-mash from the Fourth Estate left to write their stories, or in the case of the larger TV crew to head back to their town, the police sergeant gave the all-clear to the others in hiding on the second floor. Appearing at the top of the staircase were the Kirks and the Van Pollards, the quartet that had done away with Carter Shipbottom for having the audacity to win the bidding for the strange candle. Now that they possessed it they didn't think about it at all, concerning themselves with their more pleasurable pursuits. Ford Van Pollard roughly pulled Carter's maid into view, her hands bound and a gag in her mouth. Everyone knew that she was the reason Carter's third wife left him, but that did not matter at all to them now. She too would be like they were, a depraved beast eternally hungry for sex and blood; but that wouldn't be until that night. The two couples wanted to take their time if they were going to be holed up in one place. They decided to have fun with her and enjoy the powerless resistance she provided.

The sergeant had to get back to the station, dreading the 10 second run from the door to his cop car as the sun would beat down on him. Still he decided that he had time to enjoy himself. With a series of looks and nods between the parties, they divided into groups of three. Angelique and Michelle made their way downstairs to have a little roleplay with the policeman. The two women's husbands would amuse themselves with the maid with the sounds of her muffled pleas.

Back in the mayor's office, Mayor Wittier tried calling her financial officer, Roger. After a few rings someone picked up. Dana heard silence and after a few seconds repeated "Hello!" until she heard mumbling. "Roger, are you okay? Do you need to go to a hospital." On the other end Roger said one word, but it was as clear as day, "They've". "They've what? Who's they?" Another few seconds of silence, then Roger's wife, who Dana recognized from a Christmas party or two, must have picked up the receiver. "Roger is very sick, but I'm sure he'll be just fine soon. Just let him rest today." Then the call ended abruptly. "They've" It was suspicious. If he were sick then he might have started with "I'm". After a minute she pondered if this warranted calling the police. She relented and made the call. Luckily for her, Dispatcher Callaway was in the back of the police station draining every fluid from a local who happened to stop in to get his gun permit renewed, and did not answer the phone.

Dana Wittier was afraid she might have been overreacting, so she called the one man she could trust: Trent Walls. They had a thing a year ago, but he had to break it off when he felt he couldn't fairly report on city government while dating the mayor. They remained friends and confidants. "Trent Walls, Beckoner," he answered. She explained all that happened today with the absences and the strange call to Roger. He assured her that if this instinct that something wrong is nagging at her, to follow through, as that's how he gets his stories. Trent apologized that he couldn't not assist her, as he was busy compiling a list of enemies Carter Shipbottom might have had (not convinced it was animals that killed him), but insisted she get back to him with what she found.

Dana told her assistant that she was heading out early, and to move any appointments she had until Monday. The assistant, knowing this meant the rest of the day would be easy, smiled and said goodbye to her boss as the mayor took her keys and headed out the door. "Mayor's taking the day off," the slimy town clerk said as he walked in not long after. The assistant's smile went away as she hated dealing with him in any capacity, "Looks that way." "Good, 'cause I've got something to show you."

Minutes later at Roger's house Dana approached the front door. Before knocking she listened in. She couldn't make out what was being said. It was two female voices. They were aggressive, certainly not the tone towards someone who was sick. The mayor figured one voice was Roger's wife and the other was their daughter in from college. Dana finally knocked on the door. The knock was met by the sounds of stumbling around a few choice curse words. Walking up to the foyer and the front door was Roger's wife. "Yes?" she said curtly. Mayor Wittier fumbled her words to explain why she was there, "I, uh, wanted to know if there was anything I can do to help Roger feel better." "I told you on the phone that we're taking care of him." "It just seems like he might need to go to the E.R." The two bickered this way briefly, with the wife trying to get the mayor to leave and the mayor trying to pick up on what was really going on. It was then that Roger's daughter appeared at the door, also in her bathrobe which Dana thought was strange. She claimed, "Dad, said he wants to talk to you. Come on inside." She nudged the screen door open slightly, not too much as the sun was still hours away from setting. Dana's instincts were like a fire alarm in her head. She wanted to know what was happening but her body prevented her from taking a step forward. "No, that's okay. I'll see him when he -- you said you expect him to be better Monday? -- I'll see him Monday.

The mayor's hand shook as she walked back to her car and she found the right key. She drove away as the women at the door watched intently. Dana parked near the corner of the street and snuck he way via a neighbor's yard to reach the back yard of Roger's house. Similar to before, she listened intently near Roger's back window. She could hear the pained moans of Roger and the voices of the two women. The rate of Roger's painful utterances increased, and that was soon followed by decidedly not painful moans from the women. Rapidly, Roger's sounds of agony became grunts. The grunts became more forceful as the women's noises did as well. Then in a shock, Roger's face pressed up against the back window, wild-eyed and crazed with a wide and terrifying smile. Dana didn't know if Roger saw her or if he was too engrossed in what his wife and daughter were doing to him. She scurried away and back to her car.

In the car she dialed Trent again. "You've got Trent's voicemail. I'm not responsible if what you say next makes the front page." "Damn it, Trent! Answer your phone. There' s something VERY wrong going on here."