neck. The doctor listened quietly, then leafed through a stack of papers. He said Mrs. Hobbs was anemic and dehydrated, which was a mystery because her IV fluids and nutritional intake should have been sufficient to offset both anemia and dehydration.
        “Was she experiencing weakness or fatigue before the injury?”
        Dan shook his head. “She was healthy as a horse. All the sickness has come on since she got here.”
        Dr. Sharma proposed blood tests, x-rays, and continued IV therapy.
        “But you have no idea what’s wrong with her?”
        Dr. Sharma assessed Dan calmly with his large brown eyes the way he had assessed a million concerned relatives before.
        “Maybe we’ll know more after the tests.”
        “And the puncture wounds?” he pressed. “They’re not healing. They look like fang marks from a vampire.”
        The doctor remained somber. “That at least would explain the anemia and dehydration.”
        Dan looked at him incredulously. “Seriously?”
        The doctor closed his eyes and spoke barely above a whisper. “No.”

#

        That night as Dan sat next to Gramma listening to her rhythmic breathing, she and Mrs. Hafu spontaneously began chanting in unison.
        “All the children of the master will meet as one and live for all eternity.”
        It was silent for several beats, then, on cue, they repeated the chant. Then he heard the same chant from across the hall, then from down the hallway. The hair on the back of his neck stood up.
        And then his grandmother turned and looked him in the eye. “Robin is coming. She wants to see you.”
        A second later Robin stepped into the room.
        “How’s the patient?”
        Dan was rattled. “She’s getting weirder and weirder. She’s scaring me.”
        Robin assessed Gramma. “Danny, I’m convinced something’s going on in this hospital. Last night there were six more patients with bites on their necks. That’s sixteen in all. We’ve got to get Gramma out of here.”
        Robin was right. The next day, Dan sat in a small office with the patient ombudsman, a mousy nun in a black habit.
        “I’d like to have my grandmother transferred to another