The Invaders
"You mean," Jerry asked carefully, "that they didn't have any effect at all?"

Mike nodded. He tipped the glass, wiped his ragged sleeve across his face, and rose.

"Where are you going?"

"Back to the cabin."

"Mike, you can't go there!"

"That's where my brother's body is."

"Look," Jerry said evenly, "you can't help him now. Stay here with me, and we'll go up in the morning."

Carver shook his head. "My brother's there at the cabin. I got to set up with him." There was no arguing against that tone of simple and utter finality.

"All right. Wait till I get some clothes on, and I'll drive you back."

A few minutes later they passed through Wide Bend's deserted streets and started out the road to the valley. Carver rolled down his window and spat tobacco juice. "Feller was up to see us," he said gloomily. "Told us people was losin' things all over the county—includin' two kids. Said crops has shrunk. Said water in the forks is way down."

"He's right."

"Said people were gettin' the idea Dark Valley was livin' off the rest of the land. Feedin' on it, like a parasite. How crazy you think that is?"

Slowly, Jerry said, "I'm not sure it's crazy at all."

Carver brooded. "I shot that thing tonight. Should 'a been dead if a critter ever was. Then I seen it go after Ed."

"You know what all this means, don't you? Witchcraft. Something people haven't believed in for hundreds of years."

"Mebbe they better get started again."

They were nearing the divide that overlooked Dark Valley. "Mike, I've been reading up on it, for hours. Everything I could find. And it fits. It's been the hardest struggle I ever had—admitting such a thing existed. But it was either acknowledge that or lose my mind."

The night seemed colder as they started downward. Unaccountably, 
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