Prologue There was a creak for every knock, like the door was wincing from the pain.

Come on in, major McNally heard from within the house. As soon as the major crossed the threshold to the foyer he was body-slammed by a good centurys worth of cooped up stale air, twice as damp as the outlying marshes from where the house rose up like an outgrowth. Mold funk flushed inside his nose like it was seeking shelter and he couldnt really blame it. The place was a piece of shit. Colonial in style and history, the surrounding wildlife had encroached upon the foundations and taken permanent residence a while ago: weeds and vines weaved in and out of the rotting clapboard walls, merging their vivid greens in with the mildewed coloration taken up by the once-white wooden slats and the 19th century furnishings. Clusters of gnats leisurely swayed on the dense atmosphere - in the dim shafts of sunlight piercing through the milky window panes, they barely stood out against the drifting dust specks. This shithole needs to be taken off life support stat, the agent thought. Hello? he called. Up here! He was hit with a tangy soup smell halfway up the rotting stairs to the second floor and came upon a wide hallway ensconced from the touch of day by its windowless walls. A pale flicker of TV light spilled from the only open door, beckoning him to the sole possible location of the person he was here to meet. The door led to a wide living room where the ancient furniture hemmed an incongruous island of modern technology in on a corner. In that oasis he saw Jody Lou sitting in his La-Z-Boy and facing an HD flat-screen TV set from three feet away, deeply engaged in the infomercial channel. He was eating from a steaming bowl on a TV Dinner tray rigged to the recliner almost certainly the source of the smell coursing through the whole second floor. Jody himself looked like Crocodile Dundees decrepit cousin from the Bayou: Leather vest over wife-beaters covering a carcass of wrinkly gray skin and sinewy muscles; tousled shoulder-length black hair covering a bony face of deeply sunken eyes and a high forehead. Despite the appearances, though, he looked remarkably young for his actual age. Judicael Loussouarn? Jody Jody. Im major Fred McNally, RDECOM. Pleased to make your acquaintance, major Likewise

On the TV, some guy was hawking a multi-purpose blender to a cheery audience. Jody stole a glance at the slim manila envelope clasped to a clipboard under McNallys arm and pointed his plastic spork at him: You hungry, major? No, Im good. Much obliged. As he got closer, the agent could see what was in the bowl: chunks of ginger root floating on a green broth that looked like gumbo but didnt smell like it. The pungency of the scent wafting up from it was making him light-headed. So, what can I do for you? Jody asked, not peeling his eyes from the screen. I'm here on behalf of the RDECOM, or, more specifically, its biochemical arm, the ECBC. I guess you know what this is about Jody knew what this was about long before the jarhead interrupted his dinner. The TV light bathing the La-Z-Boy area revealed a perfectly self-sustaining human abode: there was a hot-plate, a microwave and a mini-fridge at arms length, and the door to the bathroom was just to the side. This guy lives like a squatter in his own fucking house, the agent thought. Jody nodded towards the envelope. Zat the file? Yes, said the major, briskly handing him the parcel. Jody reached beside the recliner and fished a pair of reading glasses. He dabbed at his mouth with a handkerchief, opened the manila and skimmed the contents while MacNally stood to the side. City names Graves End, Arkansas, the body was found yesterday in a playground by a city janitor, said the agent. This the only victim so far? Yeah. To our knowledge, yes. How dyou know its not a run-of-the-mill psycho? Check page 5. This wasnt done by no human. Jody flipped to 5 and read through the coroner report: the limbs were pulled straight out of their sockets, finger-shaped bruises on them. Chunks of flesh were bitten off the neck and rope marks around the ankles indicated the corpse was hung upside down in order to drain the blood, the remnants of which had pooled in the head area. All of that on top of the signs of rape and sodomy pre- and post-mortem. As gruesome as the scene was, none of it was news to Jody. Much to his chagrin, he had seen it all before. He was inoculated to the horror, even if it was at the expense of his soul. But something in the last paragraph caught his attention. A small detail that

could mean nothing at all, but which he had never seen before, and hinted at an unexpected possibility. One he was perhaps not entirely suited to handle. His eyes lingered on that peculiarity, trying to process its significance. Something wrong? the major said, snapping him out of it. What? No, sorry This is the genuine article, alright. How you spinning this? Bobcat or Cougar... Whatever's more plausible. We're manufacturing an Arkansas Fish and Game Commission report to forward to the city. Of course, the AFG is in on this. Local fuzz buying? Unfortunately, we couldn't keep the coroner from doing an autopsy, but, at our request, he is keeping mum on the most outlandish aspects of the scene. He handed a manicured version of the report to the Sheriff. The Sheriff definitely saw the body, though, so he may know somethings off We gotta work with him, then I guess Thats for your handler to determine Whos up? That would be agent Paul Turring, I dont believe you two have worked together before. New guy Plus, youll be working with the guy theyre prepping as your replacement. He just finished the experimental training at Glynco, DC is hoping you could give him some pointers Jody paused at that, raised his gaze from the paperwork. Sure he said, after a while. I reckon its about time. McNally then produced a Just then, Agent McNally was startled by an old, gravely voice coming in from the doorway behind him Who is dis, Judicael? The scraggy geezer who asked the question was standing in his skivvies, holding a framed photograph under his left armpit. Standing still, you could mistake him for a bare tree braving a cold winter draft. Hes with the Army, pop. Dont worry, I got this handled

The old man stood there for a long time staring at nothing while the information bounced around inside his skull until it reached sound purchase. Then he just turned and glided away in the same silent shuffle that got him there. When McNally swiveled back to Jody, he was already out of the La-Z-Boy and rummaging inside a Victorian cupboard, from which he brought up a big glass jar and set it on top of the cabinet. Inside it there was a makeshift knife plunged in a murky, amber-colored liquid. The weapon consisted of a triangular blade half-wrapped in threadbare cloth, which served as a handle. The fuckers got a taste of blood already, he aint gonna lie low for long. When am I going? We booked you a seat on the red eye from New Orleans tonight. Plenty of time to pack your belongings. Jody unscrewed the lid, pulled the knife out and laid it to dry on the white handkerchief he was using as a napkin. He had to be prepared. That night, he was off to Bumfuck, Arkansas, and he was going to kill a monster. A vampire, some people would call it.