Sheryl was perched between two strong emotions, not knowing which way she was going to tip. On one hand, she was back inside the Lodge, out of the elements and inside an environment that was bounded and she at least could pretend she understood. Not only that, but she surrounded by people she trusted, and who she felt deeply bonded to, now that they had gone through Glenda's tragic end together. Laid across this layer of comfort, though, was the fact that Kerren was still hurt and needed more care than getting carried around wrapped in a rug, not to mention that they had just re-entered the lair of some bizarre creature whose abilities and intentions weren't even clear yet.
She decided to put off her decision on how to feel until later. Right now, there was someone new in their midst, a man wearing what looked like an apron that seemed to have an inordinate amount of blood on it. She and the others had finished carrying Kerren down the stairs from the roof, and she kept moving, forcing them to keep following her. She walked until she was standing next to Dale, who was just standing there in silence, with Glenda still draped across his arms.
"Who are you?" Sheryl said to the bloodied man. As soon as she had spoken, she knew the words sounded harsher than she intended.
The man's eyebrows raised, clearly assuming he'd be welcomed more readily. "I'm Carlos," he answered. "I was working in the kitchen with Benny when the avalanche hit. Does she need--"
Sheryl didn't let him get distracted with questions about Glenda, who the man had clearly been looking at. "No. We need to know what's going on out there. You've seen that thing with the horns?"
Carlos focused back on her, nodding. "Like I said, it chased me in here. Benny's hurt, though. I told him I'd try to find a way to lure it away, so maybe we could get him some help..."
"Well," Sheryl said, nodding in various directions, "we've got people hurt too." She glanced over his shoulder and into the room beyond. "What's in there?"
"Just more storage," Carlos said, but his eyes kept drifting over to Glenda. This time, he spoke to Dale. "Is she going to be--"
Dale shook his head ruefully, and looked down at the woman in his arms. The snow that had accumulated in her lashes and on her cheeks had melted in the Lodge's relative warmth, the sheen making her look decidedly more alive than she had been outside.
Carlos breathed out an "Oh," and then stood with the group as silence gathered around them. A moment passed, and then Sheryl spoke again, as matter-of-factly as she could. "My wife's legs are broken. Is there someplace we can take her?"
Carlos eventually turned his attention back to her. "Well, it looks like any closed room would okay. Whatever that thing is, it can't pass through anything solid. I hit it with a -- a vase, I think -- and that almost brought it to a total stop. Like it had some kind of force field around it. Or maybe it *is* the force field. I don't know. What were you doing on the roof?"
"Trying to leave," Sheryl said. "But we just ended up right back here, where we started. There's no way to get off the mountain. So it sounds like we're stuck in here with it."
"Well, I came out here to see if I could find anyone else," Carlos continued, "so now that I helped that author guy, and found you all, I want to get back--"
The tension in the room started to ratchet back up. Manoj spoke up from the back of the transom that carried the blonde woman. "You saw Bruce Casey? Where is he?" The edge of rage in his voice was unmistakable.
Sheryl saw the look in Carlos's eyes get suddenly cagey, as if he was aware that what he was about to say was the vocal equivalent of walking through a minefield. "That thing was going to get him... So I grabbed it, and he got away."
"Where?" Sheryl asked insistently. "Where did he go?"
Carlos chest puffed out a little. "Sorry, but I was wrestling with what might be a literal demon at the time, I didn't get a chance to see. He was down by the other end of the hallway, where the whole thing collapsed. It was almost right above the kitchen where I was. But I left Benny down in Harmon's room, so now I'm going to--" He was starting to turn and leave.
"Wait. Please," Dale's voice filled the room, his throat strained. He nodded to Glenda, where she lay across his arms. "Let me go with you. I want to get her somewhere... safe." The regret in his voice was painfully clear. "Harmon's room would be good. Quiet. Can we take her there?"
Carlos looked at the big man, as if surprised by his sudden vulnerability. "Sure, Dale. We can get her there. It'll be a little crowded; Benny's not doing so well himself."
Sheryl jumped back in. "But it's a safe place? Can we take Kerren there too?"
As if given a cue, Kerren began twisting her head from one side to the other, letting out little, troubled hisses. Sheryl, concerned that she would hurt herself, said "Down! Put her down," to the couple holding the far end of the rug, and together they lowered the troubled woman to the floor. Sheryl ran and knelt next to her head as soon as she could. "Honey?" she soothed against Kerren's continued twisting inside her confines. "What's wrong? It's okay, we're going to get you someplace--"
She paused, listening. It was strange, but she thought she had heard something articulate in Kerren's breaths. She bent close, and there it was again. She was saying two tiny phrases: "In here" and "Again".
"What's happening to her?" Manoj asked in an anxious whisper. For some reason, it didn't sound like he was asking because he didn't know.
Kerren's hisses started to sound a little more like "heart". Sheryl leaned closer, trying to soothe her. "It's okay, honey, you'll be comfortable soon..." Her voice drifted off as she drew more disturbed by what her wife was doing. The urgency was starting to drift out of Kerren's repeated utterings of "heart", and her eyes were starting to take on a faraway look, as if there were something high overhead that was distracting her from where she was and what she was doing. Sheryl almost felt her old feelings of panic settling in, almost convincing her that the shock of Kerren's injuries had finally kicked in and she was fading away like Glenda had... but she managed to keep them at bay, at least for a few moments.
"What's that, Kerren?" Sheryl asked her, leaning closer, trying to divine her fading words.
"Sarah," Kerren said clearly. "It's all about Sarah. They all know her."
"Sarah?" Sheryl asked, confused. "What about her?... Honey, What does this have to do with your mother?"
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