("Come and see what would happen to your planet if we had not been prepared and sent.") He held his hand higher, reaching for Baskel.

"Hell no. I'm not gonna see nothin'. You're not gonna suck me in with your psycho bullshit."

("We need you to see. We will need your help soon.") "Need my help? What the hell are you talking about, you crazy-ass sonofabitch?"

("Take my hand and see. Please.") Baskel looked at Jensen, who didn't even seem to be aware of his presence anymore, and he thought, They've both finally gone completely mad.

But he took Lawless's hand.

And he saw...

Baskel found himself being drawn through a tunnel of images and sounds that flashed and streaked by. He stared in wonder, rotating his head, trying to see it all, searching for something familiar. Disoriented, he thought he might fall, though he didn't think he could; there didn't seem to be any up or down in the tunnel. For all he knew he could be upside-down.

He traveled like this for some time, how long or how far he couldn't tell. Then, just as he thought he was getting used to the stream of color and sound, it stopped.

He found himself on a hill overlooking a valley, of sorts. In the valley, he saw threads of images and sounds, moving from left to right. There were hundreds, thousands of them, so many he found it impossible to concentrate on any one. To his left and behind him, he saw more, many more, all around, surrounding him. Underfoot, more threads of light and sound. He tried to turn around but couldn't; someone was holding his hand. It was Lawless.

("Where are we?") he asked with his mind.

("We are here.") This was exactly the type of answer he was tired of hearing, the very thing he had been complaining about back in Jensen's living room. But here, in this place of light, sound, and motion, it seemed right. They were here, and it didn't really matter where here was because it was where they were.

("Place is a matter of reference,") he heard Lawless say in his mind.

("What are all these images?") ("They are the threads of existence, past, present, and future.") ("For Earth?") ("For the universe.") ("There are so many.") ("They cannot be counted.") Baskel looked again and was enlightened, discerning one stream of images from another. He saw strange things, things he would never have imagined; he saw them but could not understand them, and he knew he wasn't meant to.

("What have you brought me here to see?") ("Look.") Baskel looked: one of the streams of images separated itself from the others and moved toward them. Or were they moving toward it? He couldn't tell, and then thought, in this place, it didn't matter.

("This thread is the future of your planet if the Evil Species is not killed before it leaves your place of dwelling.") ("How can this be if it hasn't happened?") ("All things exist in time and space, even the future. One needs only to know how to view them.") ("Someone taught you how to do this?") ("It's not a matter of teaching and learning; it's a matter of knowing. Only Seers can know, and I am a Seer. I was made to see, to look into the threads of time.") ("How many futures are there?") ("Too many to be numbered.") ("Then how do you know which one is the real future?") ("I don't. Which future becomes the present, and then the past, depends on our actions.") Baskel's mind couldn't grasp what Lawless had just said.

("Look.") Baskel looked: another thread came to the forefront, images he recognized from his own past. He saw himself, younger and thinner, with fewer lines on his face and no gray in his full head of hair, at the hospital in San Antonio where his first child was born. He looked worried, scared; there had been complications, a lot of bleeding.

("This is your past, but if you had married Ruth Johnson instead of Johanna Robertson, this past would not exist. It would have been replaced by the future you made when you chose to marry Ruth. There are infinite versions of the future, all dependent on the choices we make and what we do, but there is only one past. Look.") Baskel's attention was returned to the thread of time that would be the Earth's future if the creatures were allowed to leave Modesto.

He saw the seven snake monsters grow wings by Tuesday and take flight, each to a different destination on the North American continent: three to Canada and four in the United States. The creatures chose areas similar to Modesto, with many rivers or canals running through or adjacent to the populated areas.

Modesto recovered and life returned to normal for those who hadn't lost loved ones. Another sensational story hit the news and everyone forgot about the days of terror wrought by the monsters.

He observed the creatures, now winged, no longer limited to hunting from waterways, repeat the pattern they began in Modesto, except there was no learning curve; they already knew how best to kill and eat people. They spawned and the young grew rapidly because the mother creatures were expert hunters and could feed them well.

They adapted to their environments within days. If they needed to fly greater distances to hunt, their wings grew larger. If the hunting was good from the water, they remade their bodies to be better swimmers. If they lived in areas like Modesto, with canals or rivers that ran through subdivisions, they grew legs so they could travel short distances on land and go into buildings to feed.

The new colonies dispersed in ten days, each leaving the same night. Seven colonies became forty-five and there were creatures spawning in Central America and Alaska. The Modesto pattern was repeated, as it would for months and years to come.

It was after the second dispersal that the more sophisticated law enforcement agencies, the fbi and Interpol, began to suspect something big was happening. Their computers and analysts saw patterns: dozens of communities reported similar gruesome murders; people missing large portions of their bodies, people cut in half, people without heads, and hundreds gone missing. Task groups were formed, data was collected and analyzed.

While they were meeting, arguing, and collecting even more data, the third dispersal took place. Forty-five colonies became one hundred and fifty, with more than twelve hundred creatures. The United States was now infested and there were colonies in South America as far south as the Straight of Magellan. Several creatures flew across the Bering Straight into Siberia, then to North and South Korea.

Any u.s. agency associated with national security got involved and a new bureaucracy was created, with predicable results: meetings were conducted but little was done. The military was called home, ordered to drop whatever busybody task the president had them doing.

While the military was organizing, the fourth dispersal occurred. One hundred and fifty colonies became eight hundred and thirty-three, with more than six thousand creatures.

Colonies were established in Saudi Arabia and Turkey, India and Vietnam. Island countries stopped all flights from outside destinations, thinking they could keep their people safe from the spreading ruin.

Modesto was recolonized.

The full might of the United States military was unleashed. Sophisticated technologies were used to locate the lairs where the creatures hid during the day. They succeeded in finding some but failed to kill any of the creatures, so at best it slowed their rate of breeding for a while. The creatures adapted by changing the energy they emitted and varying their body temperature, rendering man's technology worthless.

Baskel watched the creatures disperse for the fifth time, and knew it was over. There were now more than seven thousand colonies, covering almost every country, and over fifty thousand creatures. The only populated areas not infested were remote islands like Tonga and Samoa. New Zealand received its first colony.

Countries entered into a debate over the use of nuclear weapons, thinking it was the only way to kill the monsters. Small, tactical nuclear bombs were tried, but when they searched the blast areas they found no evidence they had killed any of the creatures. When it was clear that as nuclear weapons had unknown effects on the monsters, but well-known effects on humans, they were dismantled.

Martial law was declared in most industrialized countries and people starved to death in their homes, too afraid to go outside. Many cities and towns located near waterways emptied, by attrition as well as evacuation. Governments with resources build strongholds to protect their citizens. Poor countries had to fend for themselves. Any population that failed, or was forbidden, to migrate to one of the stronger countries was decimated.

The sixth dispersal took several years and Baskel didn't bother with the math. The creatures' young were taking longer to mature, the result of there being fewer humans to eat and far more creatures trying to eat them. At least half had adapted to land, while others improved their ability to swim long distances and moved into the oceans, hunting the larger game, whales and giant squid. One by one, each remote island was found and infested. Eventually, every land mass had at least one colony terrorizing and devouring the population.

They evolved in hideous and terrifying ways, sprouting multiple sets of legs and wings, growing long pointed horns they used to spear their prey or giant pincers that grabbed and crushed. Their heads grew into grotesque shapes and sizes, some even grew two or three, to terrorize the population so the creatures could feed on the emotion.

As mankind's destruction unfolded before him, Baskel realized two things never changed. The creatures either could not or did not wish to break their attachment to water. They adapted and hunted on land, but always returned to water every day before the sun came up. They also never adapted to the sun or to bright light. In fact, people could go about their business, if they had any, during the day without fear of attack. They planted crops, repaired buildings, built fortresses they hoped would keep the monsters out, and traveled during the day. But when night came, anyone foolish or unlucky enough to be out would be killed and eaten in minutes.

Years passed. Poor countries and areas with sparse population became barren. Eventually only the United States, Great Britain, Japan, Russia, and some Western European countries had significant populations. Survivors were forced to move into large well-fortified cities or be harvested during the monsters' nightly raids.

Mankind attempted to repel them by lighting up their cities at night. It worked until the creatures adapted and found ways to disrupt the city's power supply. With no electricity to power the lights, the creatures needed only find ways into the fortresses, which they always did.

One by one, the cities fell and survivors found themselves grouped into fewer strongholds. Despair blanketed the planet. Many chose suicide over the sure knowledge that someday they would be torn apart by the monsters who never ceased attacking, never slacked. Their bodies were thrown outside the city during the day in the hope the corpses might slake the monsters' hunger. The corpses were devoured, but primarily by the young who weren't mature enough to compete for the living with the larger, evolved creatures. Still they came, ever relentless in their pursuit of human flesh, never stopping.

Baskel sensed the end was near and asked Lawless, ("Where did they come from?") ("They arose from the oceans of our planet.") ("You know this for a fact?") ("Yes. They do not belong to any other planet's past.") ("How did they get to Earth? I don't see them using any space crafts.") ("The same way the Facilitator and I came to Earth, through our space travel machines. They overran our planet much in the same way they will overrun yours if they are not stopped here. We made the mistake of not destroying the machines when we retreated, thinking we would find a way to defeat them and take possession of the machines again. We did not and the Evil Species adapted to use them.") Baskel was confused.

("So it's your race's fault they're here?") ("That is correct.") ("Why didn't your ... seers ... foretell their coming and prepare your people for it?") ("There was no need for Seers as there was no evil among us. All were taught the way of the Leader and all followed it willingly. We built the space travel machines to share the wisdom of the Leader with other planets and civilizations. That is why we came to Earth many centuries ago. Unfortunately for you, your kind prefers evil over good.") The image threads began to fade and Baskel knew the vision, or whatever he was having, was coming to an end.

("Wait! You haven't told me the way out of this. How are we, you, going to stop these things? Isn't that why you said you were here, to stop them because it was all your fault?") ("Yes. That is why we are here.") ("Okay then, how are you going to kill these things?") Lawless didn't answer and Baskel unhappily found himself being drawn back through the tunnel. He wasn't ready to go. He wanted to know there was hope.

("How are you going to kill them, man? Tell me!") The vision closed and he was standing in Jensen's front room, no longer holding Lawless's hand.

"Brothers and sisters, it's time now to talk about our children, your children. These are perilous times we live in now. Can I get an amen?"

"Amen!" the congregation shouted.

Sister Tanya shouted with them, and worried about the children, even though she didn't have any and never would. Young and foolish, running with bad boys, she was injured in a motorcycle accident and something happened to her insides; organs got bounced around, something started bleeding, and they had to open her up and remove her uterus.

That was that: a barren womb. Who would want such a woman? She dedicated the rest of her life to the Lord, swearing off passion, love, and lust. She'd been doing well until tonight: Pastor Keith's revival had whipped up things in her that hadn't even been stirred in seventeen years.

She was afraid, yet thrilled. She couldn't wait to see how everything turned out tonight.

"Old Scratch has it in for your children, brothers and sisters. He has them in his sights. Now, he won't make himself known to them like he did to Jesus when he tempted him on the top of the temple, on the top of the mountain! No sir! He comes after them on the mtv!"

A few "Yeah!'s" were heard coming from the congregation.

"He comes after them in low-rise, hip-hugging, skin-tight jeans!"

A chorus of mumbled "Yeah!'s" and "Amen's" and "Praise the Lord's".

"He comes after them in slick magazines that make your daughters feel flawed if they're not having sex with a boy, ugly if they don't paint their faces up like a Jezebel, deprived if they're not wearing designer clothing."

More "Amen's".

"He comes after them in movies and television, telling them, showing them, that it's alright to have sex before you're married, that it's unnatural not to.

"He comes after your young men in the locker room, where their friends offer them drugs and tell them who the loose girls are, the girls who do the devil's bidding, who will drag your young men down to hell!"

"No!" shouted the congregation.

"Yes he will, brothers and sisters! The devil is coming after your young men and women. What are you going to do?"

"Help us Lord!" they shouted, their hearts pounding in fear for the children.

"Sisters, the devil is coming after your young ones, too, your little ones, the ones who suckled at your breast just yesterday!"

The congregation gasped. Women grabbed their small children and pulled them onto their laps, clutching them tight.

"The Dark One wants your little ones to make his own, to take them away from the Lord."

"Help us Lord!" they shouted again.

"The Great Liar will hold them prisoners, corrupt them, lead them into a life of debauchery. He will whisper in their ears that it's alright for a man to lie with another man and for a woman to lie with another woman."

Shrieks of shock and horror arose from the congregation.

"The Deceiver wants your little ones, brothers and sisters. He aims to make them his, to make them miserable as he is miserable, to drag them down into the pit of hell!"

More cries of protest and shock.

"Are you going to let the devil have your little ones?" Pastor Keith shouted.

"No!"

"Are you going to let the devil corrupt them and make them vile sinners?"

"No!"

"What are you going to do, brothers and sisters?"

There were cries and mumbles and shouts; a great din of noise.

"What are you going to do, brothers and sisters?" Pastor Keith yelled again, louder.

They mumbled and grumbled louder, then a voice rang out above the chaos: "Help us, Pastor Keith!"

"Help you?"

"Yes, help us Pastor Keith!"

"What would you have me do?"

They mumbled and grumbled, then looked at him with pleading eyes.

"Brother and sisters, send your little ones up and let me pray for them. Let your little ones encircle me while I raise my voice to the Lord God Almighty and ask his blessings to be poured down upon their innocent heads."

No one moved, too afraid to let go of their children.

He needed to get the ball rolling, again, so he spied a family with four-year-old twin boys sitting in the third row and said to them, "Brother Tom and Sister Lucy, will you let me bless your little ones?"

Lucy looked as if he'd just asked her to pull an arm off one boy and use it to beat the other one unconscious. She clutched her children tighter until they cried out in pain. Tom snapped out of the spell he was under and pried one of Lucy's hands loose, saying, "It's okay, honey. Pastor Keith just wants to give the boys a blessing." Lucy clutched tighter with the one hand.

"It's okay, honey. Let go of the boys."

Still looking frightened, Lucy released her grip. The twins gulped in air and slid off their mother's lap.

While pleased his sermon had been so effective, Pastor Keith now worried it had been too good. The grand finale would never work if the parents were afraid to allow their children to go up on the stage.

He jumped down and made his way to the two little boys, who by now were using their father as a shield in case their mother tried to crush them again.

"Come, little ones," Pastor Keith said, offering his hands to the boys. "Come and be blessed of the Lord." Their father gave the boys a smile and a nod, so they took the pastor's hands and walked with him to the stage.

Now that he had two, he was sure he could get more. He positioned the twins at the front of the stage and knelt between them.

"Who would like their little ones to join these two handsome boys in being blessed of the Lord? Who wants their little ones to have the Lord's protection, to have their names read into the Lamb's book of life?"

Four more children were released and began walking to the stage. Pastor Keith helped them up. He knew the other parents wouldn't want their children to miss out and that he would soon have them all.

"Behold, the little ones of the Lord! The little ones whose souls the Devil lusts for, whose purity he wants to tarnish with sin. Let us pray for them, pray for the Lord to wrap his loving arms around them and lay a shield of protection over them."

That did it for the fence sitters; they pushed their children into the aisles and ordered them to the stage. The timid children, too shy or afraid to go on their own, were carried or ushered up.

Pastor Keith took a silent tally as he and a church helper positioned the children into circles: thirty-two. There would be at least that many fat donations in the collections plates at the end of the night. He smiled despite himself.

The children arranged to his satisfaction, he knelt in the middle, looked to the heavens, or the top of the tent, and began praying in a loud deep voice, hoping he sounded majestic.

Captain Bozeman was waking people up, making enemies.

His first goal was to drain the canals. It couldn't wait for Monday, it had to be done, or at least started, tonight. He didn't care who he had to yell at or threaten, he would get the tap shut off tonight and he would do it at gunpoint if necessary.

Then he would call in the National Guard. A drastic step, but it would better to try and evacuate the city than have another night like tonight on his hands, a night of blood and death.

So he called and waited on hold and plead and yelled and threatened, all from the safety of the police station in downtown Modesto, some two miles from the nearest canal.

That was not the case for the men and women in uniform; they were sent back out on the streets. Their new orders were simple: keep people away from the canals and don't get killed.

After the massacre on Elm Street, many cops left town with their families. They didn't care if they would be reprimanded later, fined or prosecuted. It would be a small price to pay to see their kids grow up.