"Hello?!" Sam said when Harper seemed to go rigid suddenly. When he didn't respond, Sam snapped his fingers in front of the man's face before, eventually, following his gaze to a building down the road.

Then Sam, too, froze. Blinking a couple of times, Sam withdrew his hand away from Harper's face and reached for his Beretta--loaded with silver bullets--and gripped it tightly, sliding the safety off.

"I suppose that's not a friend of yours," he said, edging his way down the street toward the dark figure.