Which he will, after a marathon run of unnerving encounters. The scares in It Comes at Night take every form: the lantern-lit hallways of Paul's padlocked shack breed shadows and whatever could lurk in them; the cabin's red door, a partition between life and death, is perpetually captured in camera moves that build suspense with every closing inch; the woodlands surrounding the family are sprawling yet suffocating -- behind any tree there could be a gunman or a mutated beast or a whiff of toxin ready to slip through a punctured gas mask. Then there are Travis's visions, where reality and fantasy meet in literal widescreen, then congeal into coughed up bile. It's disorienting, sick, and eternal.
There was really no hope for Will (Christopher Abbott) and his family, who show up in dire need of assistance and wind up dead before the closing credits. Regardless of the shared meals, the afternoons spent chopping wood, the whiskey-laced nights telling stories around a flickering light, the possibility of Will's son absorbing the virus, and the potential for him to infect everyone else in the house, was enough to send Paul off the deep end. Sarah pulls the trigger on Will, but the patriarch goes ballistic, gunning down Will's wife and child. Then we realize it's all pointless: Travis is sick, too. The final shot shows Paul and Sara succumbing to the illness. Death was fate.