Helena had no answer for that.  She wasn’t even sure what Cinnamon meant by it.  But she knew it was a Truth, one that might yet unfold for her on this dark night.  She smiled and started to stand, casting her eyes over Cinnamon’s shoulders to the street.  Then she stiffened.  Her face went pale.

Cresting up the road, from where they had just come, was a thick meandering fog.  She could almost hear it slithering along the pavement.  Her breath caught in her throat.  It wasn’t the fog itself she feared, it was what was inside the fog, burrowing its way through, pushing it ahead, over the curb, along the walkway.

“We have to get you inside,” Helena snapped, “quick!”

Cinnamon turned her head to see what had alarmed Helena so suddenly.  Her blood went cold.  She nodded, gripped the pushrims and with Helena pulling her, shoved herself over the threshold and into the living room. 

Helena continued pulling the chair until there was enough clearance to close the front door.  Solid core steel, it clanged shut, sounding loud in the low-lit room.  She shot the bolt home.  “What the hell is that, Cinnamon?  What’s out there?”

Cinnamon shook her head.  “I ain’t sure, Miz Helena, but it’s some bad mojo fo’ sure!”

“Ahmed!  Salameh!  Help Cinnamon onto the couch!  Marina, Carmen, help me close the shutters.  Quickly!”

Marina and Carmen noted the alarm on Helena’s face and left Bette’s side to rush forward, as Helena showed them how to draw down the shutters from within the window frame and lock them.

Tina was attempting to put an ice pack on Bette’s knee.  She’d moved easily through Helena’s kitchen, knowing which side of the stainless steel refrigerator was the freezer compartment, knowing where the plastic bags and hand towels were.  Her familiarity wasn’t lost on Bette, who snatched the ice out of her hand and snapped, “I can manage!”

“Well, manage then!” Tina snapped back.  “There are other things more useful I can do right now.”

“So I see.”

Tina moved to Helena’s side, helping her pull the steel shutters down in window after window.  “These weren’t here before…when….”

“No…after,” Helena agreed.

“Why?”

Helena sighed.  “Wilson had night terrors when he was little.  We thought he was over them, but once Winnie and I split up….” She gestured, palms up.  “The last time he was here, he had an awful dream about someone trying to get into the house.  I told him not to worry, that the doors were too strong but he said they could come through the window.  So….” She gestured at the shutters.

“Maybe he sensed what was happening,” Tina mused.

“Maybe,” Helena said softly, “or maybe he was sensing what was going to happen.”

Her words sent a chill up Tina’s spine.  “What’s out there, Helena?  Is it the neighbors?  Is it…?”

“I don’t know,” Helena shook her head, “but I think we’ll be well secured in a few more minutes.”

“How about upstairs?” Carmen interrupted.

“Yes, the bedrooms and bathroom too.  Take a flashlight.  I don’t think there are any candles lit up there.”

Carmen nodded, grabbed Marina and a flashlight, and charged up the stairs.

With all the windows shuttered tight, the house should have felt a little safer.  But in the dim light of guttering candles, if anything, it now felt small and tight.  For better or worse, they were now isolated, with no one but each other to turn to.  And Helena could tell, by the bitter look on Bette’s face, that it would be a difficult quarantine.  All she could hope for is that daybreak would end with the lights coming back on.  If not….