Prologue

U.S. Government Depot Area 12, Massachusetts

October 26, 1999

"Frank, come on," the driver called out of his window, trying to get the gate man's attention. A few seconds passed and a panel slid open on the booth. "There you are. Can ya let me in now?"

"You know the procedure, Ted," replied Frank, who was looking down at something the driver couldn't see. He hesitated a few more seconds, apparently reading something, then turned his eyes up. "Background's clean, truck's clean. Now let's see if you really are who you say you are."

"Ah, jeeze…"

Frank pressed a button and a smaller panel opened below his viewing one. Out of it came a long silver arm, on the end of which was attached a boxlike device. It approached the driver's face and stopped, a smaller arm flipping up to press a rounded cup to his eye. The machine took his retinal scan and compacted back together into the hole it emerged from.

Ted blinked. "Well?" he asked, rubbing his eye.

"Mm-hm," mumbled Frank, his face illuminated from an unseen computer screen. "Looks good." He turned his face back to the driver and smiled. "Go on in, Ted."

"Yeah, thanks…" he muttered. Ted shifted the armored truck into gear and slowly started through the chain-link gate that was sliding away.

The depot was brightly lit in the cold and dark autumn night. Huge floodlights attached to the various warehouses and hangars surrounding the central yard left almost no shadows outside. It was comforting in some ways, yet also quite eerie.

But Ted was used to it. He was always shipping stuff for the Bureau, either to this depot or one of the other hidden ones around the country. Those were the ones he really didn't like going to, mainly for two reasons: one, they often only had a handful of personnel as compared to the several dozen employed here in the Massachusetts depot; and two, the stuff that was really important or dangerous went to those ones, so to Ted the threat level was a little higher – even with the fact that they were hidden bases.

He pulled his truck up to a wide warehouse door and stopped. Two armed guards approached either side of his vehicle, one going around to inspect while the other climbed up to bring his face level to Ted's through the driver's window.

"Cargo?" he asked in a clipped and serious tone. No joking with these guys; the only one that remotely had a sense of humour was Frank, and even his was lacking at the best of times.

"Some statue thing," replied Ted, reaching over for his shipping list. He pressed a thumb to the print analysis pad on the small case and it popped open. Inside was the list. "Here ya go."

The guard took the offered paper. His eyes darted over it, and after almost a minute he handed it back. "Everything seems to be in order." He passed the list back and glanced to the rear of the truck. "Just wait for the inspection."

"Is it going to take long? I've got a date," said Ted jokingly. It was well past midnight; the Bureau always thought it best to make land shipments in the cover of night. Ted often wondered why that was, and all he could gather was that it made any incidents that may occur a lot easier to clean up. The higher-ups were so considerate…

Of course the guard didn't find the joke the least bit funny. He just stared dully at the driver for a few seconds then glanced away again. The other guard called out to him and he stepped down to the ground. He walked to the rear of the vehicle and disappeared behind it. Ted watched him leave through his side mirror, then just sat back and looked around the nice view of the warehouse wall and door he had in front of him.

At least until the lights went out. All at once the lamps and floodlights around the yard just shut off, plunging the depot into darkness. Only his truck's headlights shed any illumination, all of it pressed into a wide door a meter in front of them.

"Hey," Ted called out through his window, leaning out and looking to the rear of his truck. "Hey!"

Faintly he made out the guards walking towards him. The one he had spoken to moments before was talking into a hand-held radio. They both stopped beside his door and the second man addressed him. "Seems we've got a situation with our power," he said. "Standby until everything's clear."

"How long is that going to take?"

"Unknown. We can't get through to central comman–"

Rapid gunfire clattered from somewhere nearby. The staccato bursts of several guns could be heard but the location was impossible to determine. At least until a guard came running around one warehouse, firing back at something unseen. The only way they could see him was from the brief flashes of his shots.

The two guards outside of the truck pulled down their own weapons and rushed to aid the man. Ted watched them go then lunged for the shotgun under his seat. The Bureau was at least considerate enough to give him some type of weapon. He pulled it out, checked it was loaded and made sure the safety was on, then laid it across his lap.

He wasn't going to just wait around to be picked off in the dark by whatever was out there. The driver shifted his truck into reverse and pulled away from the warehouse. Ted turned towards the gunshots in the dark and let his headlights shine out on the attackers.

He wished he hadn't. The lights allowed him to watch as some large man – no, creature – lunged at one of the guards and rammed him into the ground with bone-crushing force. The others kept shooting but the thing was too fast. It spread its wings, giant bat-like appendages, and darted into the air. The creature came down behind the two men, the ones who had rushed from Ted's truck, and smashed their heads together. The driver could see the gore spray from the impact and had to turn away.

When he looked back up he could see the thing was staring straight at him. He panicked and rammed the gas pedal to the floor. The truck wasn't built for speed, especially a quick start, but there was a good thirty meters between it and the creature, and, being an armoured vehicle, it had a reinforced front. As long as the creature didn't move – unlikely, but entirely possible – Ted would definitely win this confrontation.

Surprisingly, the thing held its ground. Rather than evading, either by simply dashing to the side or by using its leathery wings, it started walking towards the approaching truck. The driver squeezed his steering wheel hard and kept his foot on the pedal, watching carefully for any sudden movements.

None came.

A few moments before the front of the truck would have struck the creature, a gap of only a couple feet between them, it stretched back its left arm and made to punch at the vehicle. Ted couldn't see exactly what it was, but there was something in – or on – its hand that looked hard. Hard enough to do anything to a speeding armoured truck? No way – that creature was big, but not that big.

Ted was soon proved wrong. The monster did indeed use its arm to punch the truck, smack dab in the center of the front grille. It was like hitting a rock wall. The fist of the creature rammed into the hood of the vehicle and crumpled the front around it. The impact threw Ted into his steering column – he had removed his seatbelt when he first got to the depot – and caused his face to smack the dashboard hard.

It took him a few seconds for the stars to clear from his eyes. He raised his head and felt his forehead, fresh blood on his hand as he brought it in front of his eyes. His chest hurt from pressing so hard into the steering wheel; surely it was bruised, probably even a couple broken ribs. Ted groaned and slid back in his seat.

By the time realization struck, mere moments after the crash, it was too late. He glanced out and saw the creature walking slowly towards the drivers' side. Clearly the thing was no person, but the way it moved was so eerily human. Ted scrambled to find his shotgun. It had slid off his lap and was caught under the dashboard by his feet. He tried to pull it free but as he moved his leg a sharp pain shot through it; he had broken or at least cracked something.

It didn't matter, though. The creature had made it to his door and reached up to it with that huge left hand. The fingers easily broke through the window, the bullet-proof window, and clamped down on the door itself. With a quick tug the whole door tore free and was thrown to the ground.

Ignoring the pain in his leg, Ted pulled himself away from the door. But the thing outside reached in and seized his foot. He cried out, both in pain and fear, as the creature roughly yanked him from the cab of the truck.

The last thing the driver ever saw were those glowing red eyes, cold and emotionless, staring through the dark at him. He was entranced by them even as he fell from the seat of the cab like a rag doll in the monsters hand, and watched them even as he was swung like a club into the side of the truck.

Then all went black.