John tried to pull her from the house, but she fought against him. Tears streamed down her face as she tried to get to her mother's body.

"Let me go. I can still help them."

Her father lay lifeless just a few feet further.

"They're gone, sweetheart, and you'll be in trouble if we don't get you out of here."

From behind, he grabbed her chin and turned her face to the third dead body. It looked just like her.

"That thing has been living here as you for two weeks. It killed your parents, and everyone will think it was you if you stay here."

"Not if that body is here, too."

"Wrong. No one will ever look at you without suspicion. They'll think you were involved. You have to leave. Now."

"I can't," she cried.

"You have to. Come on."

He picked her up and ran with her as she fought against him, sobbing all the way to his truck. Once he got her inside she stopped fighting. Her hands covered her face as she cried.

John drove a couple dozen miles before he tried to get her to talk.

"What's your name, sweetheart?"

She didn't answer. The sound of her sobs filled the truck.

"Come on, darlin'. I want to help you. Tell me your name."

She wiped at her eyes. "Jenna."

"Jenna, I'm John. You're gonna have to lay low for a while. Is there someone you can call?"

Jenna shook her head. "My parents were all I had."

John blew out a breath. He would have to figure something out.

"I don't understand what happened back there," Jenna said through a few remaining tears. "Who was that?"

"Not who. What. You're going to think I'm nuts, but that was a shape shifter."

He glanced over at Jenna, and she just stared back at him.

"It's a creature that can take on the form of anyone. When it does, it has all your thoughts and memories, and it can take your place without anyone noticing. I had been tracking it. That's how I know how long it was at your parents' house."

"But it's dead. Why did I have to leave?"

"These things are good at setting you up. They kill, and they make sure it looks like you did it. Cameras, neighbors, you name it. They all saw you, and they'll suspect you even though that body looks just like you, because they won't be able to explain that. What they can explain is you killing your parents and trying to convince people that you're innocent with some insane story."

Jenna thought about that. "How do you know about this stuff?"

John took a breath. "I had something happen to me twenty years ago... I learned a lot after that. Horrible things exist in this world."

"You said you were tracking that thing that looked like me?"

"The shape shifter, yes."

"Why?"

"So I could kill it, but I wasn't a hundred percent sure it was a shifter. I couldn't risk killing a person. I figured it out too late."

John felt the familiar sting of guilt. He was too late to save this girl's parents. Any longer and she might be dead, too. Or in prison for murder.

Jenna stared at the dark road ahead of them.

"Where are you taking me?"

"We have to get far away from that place. I was going to take you to someone you could trust, but... You can ride along with me for a while, until you figure out your next step. But your old life is gone. Everyone will think you're dead."

"So, where are we going?"

"I'll drive a while, then we'll find a motel. When was the last time you ate?"

"I'm not hungry," she said as she looked out of her window.

"That's not what I asked."

She let out a sigh. "A couple of hours before I got on the plane to come here."

"So, this morning?"

"Yeah."

"We'll grab some food."

"I'm not hungry."

John shook his head. "You're as stubborn as my boys."

Jenna looked at him. "You have kids?"

"Two boys," he said.

"Where are they while you're out killing monsters?"

"My youngest, Sam, is in college."

"Wow, I'm sorry. The way you called them boys... I assumed they were young."

"No, I suspect they're about your age."

"Twenty-five," she said.

"Yeah, you're right between them. They're men now, but they'll always be my boys."

Jenna stared out of her window again. The two of them stayed silent for a long time as John drove an empty stretch of two-lane highway.

"I won't get to go to my parents' funerals," she whispered.

"At least they'll get to have one, and the people that loved them will be there."

"All friends," she said. "No family." Jenna wiped tears from her eyes. "Will we be stopping soon? I'm feeling trapped in this truck."

John glanced at her. He could see the adrenaline of the night was fading, and her eyes looked heavy with sadness and fatigue.

"Just a few more towns over."

Jenna leaned her head against the window.

Alternating hands on the wheel, John shrugged out of his jacket and passed it to her.

"Here. You can use that as a pillow."

Jenna stared at him a moment.

"Thank you."

She adjusted herself against the door, placing the bulk of the jacket in the crook of her neck, with a sleeve folded between her head and the window.

"You're not one for words of comfort, are you?"

"You just lost people you love in a horrible way," John said. "There are no words of comfort."

A few minutes later John glanced over at Jenna. She was asleep. The last road sign said there was a motel in ten miles. He would stop there for the night. Jenna didn't deserve to sleep sitting up in a truck after what she had just been through.

He parked the truck and pulled his duffle from the floor at Jenna's feet as he got out. He noticed the chill in the air, and remembered that Jenna had only been wearing a light t-shirt when he dragged her out of the house. The shifter had ripped her sweater off of her as Jenna fought back. He pulled the duffle onto his shoulder and carefully opened the passenger door. Jenna fell forward a little, but caught herself as she woke up. Her eyes searched her surroundings before they landed on John, and she leaned her head back against the seat.

"Where are we?"

"Motel."

Jenna climbed out of the truck and handed John his jacket. He took it, but draped it over her shoulders.

"It's a little cool out here," he said.

"Thanks."

Inside the office, John rang the service bell.

"Two rooms," he said as the manager came out.

"Sorry. Only have one room left."

"Two beds?"

"Two beds."

John looked at Jenna. "Is that okay with you, or do you want another motel?"

"It's fine. I'm so tired."

John nodded at the manager and put a credit card on the counter.