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stomach settled?"
    "Yes. I need to get back to the kitchen to finish dinner.
I promised to make fried chicken for Mack."
    "Would you like me to take a look at the young one?"
Karzac lifted an eyebrow.
    "Sure. I've already squashed Mack's memories twice. He
really needs somebody better suited to handle the emotional side to this."
    "Then I will talk with him. Come, I will follow you to
the kitchen, gather soft drinks for your son and his friend and we will have a
talk."
    "Thanks, Karzac."
    "You are very welcome."

Chapter 3  
    Justin's Journal
    I seldom see Uncle Karzac. He showed up that afternoon. Yeah,
I knew he was a doctor and plenty busy, but somehow, Mom and Dad got him to
make a house call. He brought two bottles of Dr. Pepper to Mack and me, then
sat on my bed and talked to both of us while Mom cooked dinner.
    He had good things to say, too. He told Mack that feeling
guilty about surviving was natural. Lots of people felt that way in traumatic
circumstances. He said what I did, too—that it wasn't Mack's fault that the bad
stuff happened or that he'd miraculously lived over it.
    We also discussed people who did bad things for reasons known
only to them, and that Mack wasn't responsible for any part of that, either. I
could tell Karzac wasn't happy that Randall Pierce's dad stuck Mack in the same
cell with a homicidal lunatic, but he didn't come out and say it.
    When Mom knocked on the door and said dinner was ready, I
could tell Mack felt better, and it wasn't just because fried chicken waited in
the kitchen.
    That night, we had dinner with Uncle Karzac, Uncle Lion, Uncle
Joey and Uncle Dragon, something that seldom happens except at Christmas. Uncle
Lion grinned and teased Mack and me, but it was a gentle teasing—about stuff
that really didn't matter and made us laugh.
    Uncle Dragon watched both of us with guarded attention. He
does that a lot—as if he's making sure everybody is safe. Mom always says Uncle
Dragon does it out of habit. I have no idea what that means, but it's nice to
know.
    Mack admires Uncle Dragon a lot—he's only seen him a few
times, but since Dragon is Asian and has a long, black braid down his back,
Mack says he looks like an ancient, Japanese warlord or something.
    After dessert, which was banana pudding, another of Mack's
favorites, Mom, Dad and my uncles went to Dad's study to discuss business. Joey
didn't go to the meeting; he helped Mack and me clear the table and load the
dishwasher instead.
    "Want to see the latest?" Joey held up a flash drive
when we were finished in the kitchen. He'd been working on his own video games,
and the last one looked pretty cool.
    "Yeah," Mack said, his eyes shining. Joey was
working on what might prove to be the coolest game ever, and Mack and I couldn't
wait to try it. Joey did all the computer work for Dad's business, but he did
this on the side and wanted to start a gaming company someday.
    This game would be a good start on that dream. Joey had
serious talent in that area—he'd graduated with honors from MIT. That's why he
could help with all my math and science homework—those subjects were never a
problem for him.
    Mack and I followed him as he led the way to my bedroom and my
computer.
    * * *
    Adam's Journal
    "I don't like the idea of waiting," Dragon said
before sipping the bourbon I'd poured for him. "We only need a plan to get
them out of the hospital before taking care of the situation. They're not human
any longer—we all know that. I know their parents will be devastated, but
devastation is better than being bitten and turned to spawn by your own children."
    "I agree with Dragon," Kiarra said. "Who has
ideas on getting them out?"
    "You will do nothing of the sort." Thorsten appeared
in a brief flash of light, wearing a huge frown. "I command that you allow
this to play out as it will," he added.
    "What the fuck?" Kiarra bristled. She disagreed with
Thorsten more than half the time, and often argued against his decisions. The
rest of us