I DON'T HAVE ANYTHING TO DO WITH HELLBOY: ANIMATED OR THE TERMINATOR FRANCHISE HEY IF I DID HOW COOL WOULD THAT BE? AND I KNOW THE CHUPACABRA WAS FIRST SIGHTED IN PUERTO RICO 1995 BUT I IMAGINE THE BPRD WOULD HAVE A DIFFERENT STORY TO TELL.

Off the beaten path in Oaxaca, 1985.

As I ran low on cash, I turned to waitressing once more. It hadn't been part of the plan, but then again, so many things weren't. I knew what had to happen eventually, but John had just been born, I needed the money (though I hated the work) and it gave me an opportunity to meet people. Maybe one of them would be the one I was looking for.

So, there I was, waiting tables and practicing my Spanish at this little cantina and they all walk in. Nacho wouldn't turn down a check, though I had my reservations. I wasn't scared, of course, but one wore a spacesuit and one had gills and one was big and red.

A long way outside Nogales, 1993

The ranch manager hadn't been expecting us. He was sure it was vandals or a cult of some kind. Despite his insistence that it was all something completely rational, he assigned a few hands to show us where the carcasses had been found. I tried to discourage my guide, but she wasn't buying it.

"I like your gun," she said, a few minutes into the drive.

"Oh? Thanks. I do, too."

"Custom job."

"Yeah, well, I'm in a special line of work," I replied. I tapped the shotgun balanced on the dash.

"Nothing scares off trouble like the sound of someone cocking a double-barreled shotgun."

I looked over. "You think it's just something normal?"

She shrugged a little. "I don't know. If it was normal, we probably would have caught them by now." She stopped the truck. "Here. I can show you where we found it."

There was a stick stuck in the ground a few yards over. No tracks, except for human ones, and the body was long gone.

"You found it?" I asked.

"Ramirez did," she said. "Looked just like the picture you showed Garcia."

"How long ago?"

"Couple weeks back. Garcia had us burn it," she said. "He doesn't like this stuff."

"Well, nobody likes animal mutilations," I said, surveying the landscape. Where did it stay during the day? We knew it hunted at night, but I couldn't see any shelter. If it was underground it would probably be gone by the time we found the den.

She crouched and picked at her boot. "He thinks it's devil worshippers."

"Huh." I turned back to the truck. "Well, I guess I'd be the man to call for that."

We drove back in silence. At the ranch Abe, Paulson, and I compared what we'd found and agreed that we still didn't know anymore than we had when we left headquarters. It liquefied the insides and sucked them out, it didn't leave tracks, and it hadn't been seen. Abe still thought it might be a spider.

"Well, think about it," he said.

"I know. It sounds perfectly reasonable," I allowed. "But if it made sense, why would we be here?"

Paulson drummed his fingers on the table. "So, how are we going to catch it?"

"We can't just lure it into a trap. The workers have already tried it," Abe said.

"We could sedate all the animals and set up motion detectors, but then we'd wind up catching coyotes," I said. "I guess we'll have to go hunting."

The goal had initially been live capture. I'd been hoping we would have a more accurate idea of what we were capturing before we tried, though. Didn't know what size it was, which made using tranqs risky; not enough and it would probably just get belligerent, too much and we could kill it, supernatural creature or not. I suppose the businessmen would rather have a dead crypto than more dead livestock, which was why we'd been dispatched to look for it with almost no evidence, but Kate would probably like to cross-reference it with Aztec mythology or something. And how would we transport it?

"Catch." Paulson threw a coil of rope out of the truck. Abe stood a part away, trying to lasso a fencepost. "And we're just so technologically superior, too," I said, unlooping a bit.

"Hey, this is the good stuff," he said, jumping down. He gave the loose end a tug. "Feel that? Strong, flexible, lightweight. Like spider silk, right, Abe?"

"Just you wait," Abe replied, missing the fencepost. He was getting good-natured about it now, but he'd definitely been displeased by the reception his idea got back at the briefing.

"Sure. Look, I'll buy you eight shots if it has eight legs, and anything less, you buy mine, okay?"

"Fine. No cutting off legs just to prove a point."

"No cutting anything if you can help it," I said. "No point in dragging back a specimen too damaged to be any use."

Abe coiled up his rope. "What if it's sentient?"

I'd wondered about that, too. "I don't think it's likely. But the protocols would still apply, I guess."

Gas, tranqs, rope, nets and launchers, flashlights, night-vision goggles and respirators loaded, we borrowed a pickup, headed out to the range and…waited. All of a sudden, it was dark. I purposely hadn't been checking the clock to make the time pass quicker; it had worked. I leaned over and quietly tapped on the cab. "Is Paulson asleep yet?"

"No, he's not," Paulson answered.

And then I heard the scream. Abe and Paulson did, too, and headed off in its direction, nearly tossing me out of the pickup bed. We were eventually blocked by livestock and had to get out and run.

I finally got a good look at our target.

Standing on the back of a steer was a creature nearly as big as its prey. Big fangs stuck out of a long snout and into the steer's neck. Two spindly forelimbs with sharp claws dug into the steer's back, followed by large hind limbs and a tail. How many shots was that for Paulson?

Abe was further back, but he shot first. Paulson was right behind him, tearing off his goggles and adding his own flashlight to illuminate the scene. The beast did not like the tranq, or the light, and hopped off. It had a long jump to it; maybe why we hadn't matched any tracks to it. I shoved aside a cow and ran after it.

It was fast. So was Paulson, who somehow got ahead of me. He launched a net at it. It didn't catch, but the creature turned to face us and screamed.

Turns out the scream was a paralyzing agent. Who knew? Hit me hard enough to knock me over and hold me for a second, though Paulson took it harder. It didn't attack us, but turned and hopped away.

Abe had caught up to me. "Still think it's sentient?"

"Well, it isn't a spider," he said. "But I can ask."

"Well, if it is," I said, "it probably speaks Spanish."

"I'll keep that in mind," he said, breaking away.

He ran off to its opposite side, so that if we could catch it, we'd have it flanked. "Hey!" he shouted. "¡Amigo!" The creature didn't acknowledge. "¡Venimos en son de paz!" Nothing. He shot another tranq at it.

I decided to try our highly-technical rope. I hung the coil over my right hand and slipped it into a loop with my left. I tossed the loop at its head, but it hopped and I only got its tail, which slipped out of the loop. It could go on like this forever, us chasing and it running, probably until sunup. Working out in the open had some definite disadvantages, most importantly the fact that the creature was managing to put a lot of distance between us.

Up ahead in the distance, a light came on. Where were we? We couldn't have gone that far. And it wasn't the kind of light daybreak was, the kind I've been so happy to see so many times.

I heard the distinctive sound of a double-barreled shotgun cocking, and then a blast.

The creature collapsed to its left. It let out a sour yelp and tried to get up, but it couldn't put weight on the left foot. It tried to crawl, dragging itself by its forelimbs and scooting with its good leg, but it didn't get far, because I had caught up to it and leapt on its back. It turned and snapped at me, but I popped it with a right on the snout and pinned it to the ground to muzzle it. Abe and I tried to tie it down, but neither of us had any experience roping a…thing.

Someone shone a flashlight on our attempted hog-tie. "You look like you could use some help," said my guide, and she set down her weapon and corrected our loops and twists while a young boy held the light on our work. The creature up close was a dull, dark gray, with a tough, hairless hide and big yellow eyes. Between the tranquilizers and the rope it was pretty still, but Abe pinned a net over it anyway.

"I'm going back to get the truck and pick up Paulson," he said. "You keep an eye on our new friend."

"Wait a minute," I said. "Did you say 'we come in peace?'" He shook his head then turned and walked away, his flashlight bobbing through the night. I sat down next to the creature, which was now thoroughly knocked out. I took up the net and rolled the creature over to get a better look at the foot.

"Sorry," my guide said. "I tore it up."

"I can fix it. Do you have any antiseptic?" The foot was a mess, but not hopeless.

She nodded to the kid, who ran off with the flashlight. "Here," I said, and rolled her mine. She stood up and ran the light over the creature, examining it.

"So," I said, "what's a nice girl like you doing in a place like this?"

She laughed softly. "I can't even think of where to start," she said. I didn't respond, which prompted her to continue. "I came up with Carlos a few months ago. We were in Chiapas before, and we had to come north, but we got tied up here." She paused. "Fair enough work, I guess. Carlos is kind of a mechanic, and I…" She changed her tone. "We've never had it this close to us before. How did you get over here?"

"We didn't start here," I said. "Here, look at these." I pulled up the good leg. "Do you know how far it can jump? It stuns the animal sonically, and then it jumps on it, that's why I couldn't find any tracks near the site. It jumps, I don't know, 50 feet, at least." She hmmed approvingly.

The kid came back running, followed by a man with a lantern. The kid thrust a plastic bottle at me breathlessly. "What this? Oh." Hydrogen peroxide. Good thing it was asleep. I poured it over the wound and it bubbled; at least it bled normally. I pulled a bandage out of my belt and handed the gauze pad to the kid. "Here, hold this down while I wrap it." He took the length of it and dressed it himself. Smart kid. "Thanks. What's your name?"

"John."

"Well, thanks, John." My guide and the man were softly talking to each other. The lantern made it easier to see, but I could tell the sky was getting less dark.

"¿Quieres café, rojo?" the man asked.

"Si. Gracias," I answered. He picked the shotgun off the ground and walked away.

My guide handed the hydrogen peroxide to John. "Here. Go back to bed for a few hours." He left reluctantly.

She and I stood in silence for a bit.

"You know, I never got your name," I said.

"Sarah," she replied. "And I know who you are."

"Those damn comic books."

"Something like that," she said, and she almost smiled.

The man came back with two mugs. She took hers and he moved behind her, kneading her shoulders. Carlos, I presumed. She turned her head and said something inaudible; I pretended to like my coffee.

"You need anything else?" she asked.

"No. It's getting light, and Abe will be back soon. Then we need to wake up Paulson and find a bar."

"Alright," she said, and turned to leave.

"Wait," I said, and walked over. "Thanks, Sarah."

I offered my hand.

She took it. "Thank you, Hellboy," she said, and she and Carlos walked away.

She sounded like she meant it, which was nice. Manning usually said it to be a jerk. I sat down next to the creature and waited for our ride.

I had to ask about the revolver. It was sitting right there next to his steak. He spoke English, fortunately, and was kind enough to let me hold it, show me how he loaded it. Not as accurate as this, he said, meaning his great right hand. Longer range, but I'm a lousy shot.

The fish man sitting across from him slid out the magazine and showed me his sidearm. Nothing fancy, he said, but solid. BPRD standard issue.

BPRD?

Bureau of Paranormal Research and Defense.

Oh, I said, and smiled.

You don't look like a fed.