My Savior, he thought.

You know I still have work to do.

That’s why You helped me escape from the booby-hatch. That’s why You brought me back home. That’s why You saved me today from the hands of the evil ones. You knew I still had work to do.

Confined in the Illinois hospital for the criminally insane, Uriah had thought his mission was over. He hadn’t destroyed every vampire, but he’d done his share. He’d whittled the army down some. He’d lost his eye. He’d been caught. Though they didn’t know all he’d done, they knew he’d tried to kill that Charleston vampire, which was enough to get him put away. He’d hated to admit it, but he’d been glad it was over.

When he escaped, he’d had no intention of going after any more vampires. All he’d wanted was to make his way back to Sagebrush Flat and live in his hotel where he belonged.

But God was behind it, after all. God had led him back here, knowing in His infinite wisdom that trouble was afoot.

Uriah had been in town no more than a month before those people came and found the hiding place. He’d been out in the desert, hunting up supper. They were gone by the time he returned. When he spotted the broken floor of the landing, he’d prayed that they hadn’t discovered the vampire. But his prayer was in vain. The panel enclosing its tomb was loose. The blanket was disarrayed.

He knew, then, that Satan had sent them to undo his work.

But why hadn’t they pulled out the stake then and there? It didn’t make sense. Had God intervened, somehow, to prevent it?

For days afterward Uriah had kept a vigil. He never left the hotel. At night, instead of retiring to his second-floor room, he’d slept in the lobby. It puzzled him that the intruders didn’t return to resurrect the foul thing under the stairs. Perhaps they hadn’t been sent by Satan, after all. Maybe pure chance had led them here, and they had no intention of coming back.

But if they were innocents, why hadn’t they told the police about finding a corpse?

Day after day Uriah waited and pondered these things. He left the hotel only to relieve himself and to fetch water from the old well out back. He ate jerky from the small supply that he’d set aside for emergencies. When the last of the jerky was gone, he fasted for two days rather than abandon his watch to go hunting.

Finally, gnawed by hunger and knowing he would need all his strength to combat the evil that was sure to come, he’d set out into the desert. Not until after dark did the Lord provide him with a meal. He’d cooked up the coyote. It had spoken to him as he ate. It told him to beware. While he’d been guarding the vampire under the stairs, the intruders had found the other two and set them free.

He’d been sure it was the voice of God that had warned him. Terrified that the evil had been unleashed, Uriah had hurried back to the hotel. With candles and a rusty old spade from his room, he ran to the east end of town. The front door of King’s Liquor had long since been broken open. Entering, he made his way to the rear of the empty shop. Holding a candle close to the floor, he was able to find the trapdoor.

It had been Ernie King’s pride and joy — a secret entrance to the cellar where he kept his most precious bottles of wine. In the old days Ernie used to brag that nobody knew about the trapdoor except for his own family and his best pal, Uriah. They’d spent many fine evenings down there, sampling, before Ernie upped and left town along with nearly everyone else.

A thin layer of sand blown in from the desert covered the wooden hatch.

Sure didn’t lookas if anyone had opened it up recently.

But maybe the intruders had sprinkled sand around, afterward, to make the area look undisturbed.

Uriah took out his knife. He pried up the trapdoor and eased it down against the floor. Lifting his shovel, he descended the stairs.

The dirt floor didn’t appear to have been dug up. That should’ve been another clue. But Uriah was not about to question the words of the Lord. By the light of the candles, sweating in spite of the cellar’s chill, he’d dug for the bodies.

These had been buried deep. With these, he’d had plenty of time. He would’ve put the last vampire down here, too, but he’d been in too much of a rush. He’d been seen. So he’d just hidden it under the hotel stairs and fled town as fast as he could.

Digging in the hard earth of the cellar, he wished he hadn’t put these two down so far.

Hours seemed to go by, and his last candle was down to a tiny stub before the blade of his shovel struck wood. He had buried the coffins next to each other. He wasn’t sure which he’d found. But it didn’t matter.

Standing in the shoulder-deep hole, he worked feverishly to clear the coffin’s lid. The candle was guttering as he scooped out footholds on each side.

He straddled the coffin. He rammed the blade of his shovel under its lid. The nails squeaked. The candle died.

A chill of dread squirmed through Uriah as he worked in total darkness.

The Lord had told him that the vampires had been set free. Not that they were gone.

There might be a living vampire in the coffin below him.

My crucifix and my garlic will protect me, he told himself.

But his terror grew as he wrenched the top of the casket loose. He tossed his shovel out of the hole, bent down and lifted the lid. He brought it up between his spread legs. He hurled it out of the hole.

Carefully, he eased himself down until his knees came to rest on the narrow wooden edges of the casket. Gripping an edge with his left hand, he bent lower. He reached through the darkness.

His fingers slipped into soft, dry hair, and he felt as if a thousand spiders were rushing up his back.

He touched the parched, crusty skin of the vampire’s face. When his fingertips met the edges of her teeth, he gasped and jerked his hand back.

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want,” he whispered, and forced himself to touch her again. He felt her neck. Her collarbone. “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures.”

He touched the smooth roundness of the wooden stake.

He curled his hand around it.

The stake was still buried in her chest, just as it ought to be.

Uriah knew, then, that the coyote had lied. Its voice hadn’t been the Lord. Satan had spoken through the beast to trick him.

Throwing himself out of the hole, Uriah scurried through the darkness. He stumbled up the cellar stairs and rushed out to the sidewalk.

In time to see two men come out of the hotel carrying the coffin.

Angry, miserable with fear and guilt, he watched them slide the coffin into the rear of a van. They climbed into the front seats. Without headlights the van sped up the moonlit street. For a wild moment Uriah considered rushing out and trying to stop it.

But the Lord held him back.

Bide your time, He seemed to say. I won’t fail you.

So Uriah had ducked out of sight within the store until the van was gone.

He had bided his time.

Today the Lord had brought the men back to Sagebrush Flat. They had come to kill him. Of that, he was certain. They had set the vampire free and become its undead brethren. They had come here to destroy the only man worthy of laying them to rest.

But they had failed.

Uriah touched his tongue against the raw inside of his cheek and winced.

They failed, he thought. But I didn’t.

No, he hadn’t succeeded in putting them at peace. But he would.

He would get them andthe vampire who had slaughtered his family. All together.

He smiled. It sent fire through his cheeks and made his eyes water.

Reaching down, he plucked a slip of folded paper from between his belt and the skin of his belly.

Before honking the horn of their car to draw them out, he had searched the glove compartment. He had found what he knew must be there.