"What's a hob? Is that the big one or something?" Luis asked. Unless these little things could deflect bullets, maybe he could take it out from a distance.

They were pounding on the door now, and Luis felt an involuntary shiver roll down his spine at the sound little hisses and growls and things muttered in Spanish.

"It's just a dream, right? We can't die," he said, mostly to reassure himself.