Eric crouched too, his hands open, constantly moving.

The kid jabbed tentatively and Eric danced out of the way. "Pretty good," the kid grinned, a film of sweat glistening on his upper lip. "But they said you would be." The kid chuckled, started coughing a racking cough, doubled over. Eric, hoping to take advantage, rushed closer.

Suddenly the kid straightened up and lunged at Eric, the heavy knife slicing air with a menacing whistle. Eric pulled back too quickly, almost falling. His arms windmilled a couple times before he regained enough balance to sidestep another thrust. The kid had suckered him with a fake coughing spell, and he'd bought it. Almost permanently.

The kid looked annoyed with himself for having expended so much precious energy and missing. He winced at the pain in his chest, pressed a bloody hand against the wound. More blood seeped between his fingers. He sighed, which sounded as if something loose was rattling inside of him.

"Mom," Timmy called from somewhere in the hall. "What's all the noise?"

"Timmy," Annie shouted, "you stay right there! Don't come any closer!"

"Get out of here," Eric snapped at her. "Take the kids and run."

"Like hell," she said and, grabbing two fistfuls of blanket, jerked it off the bed and tried to fling it over the kid with the knife.

However, the electric cord attached to the blanket kept it from going very far, and it collapsed in a deflated heap over the edge of the bed.

But the distraction was enough. When the kid turned at Annie's movements, Eric managed to snap his heel into the kid's knee, felt the kneecap buckle, the fragile bone crunching as it disintegrated. As the kid sagged, Eric drove his elbow into the kid's temple, at the same time grabbing his wrist and twisting until the knife plopped to the carpet. Afterwards he gave an extra twist until the wrist snapped too.

Annie ran forward and snatched the knife from the floor, ready to plunge it into the kid's heart should Eric need any help. "You okay?"