SAN FERNANDO VALLEY
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA

It was after dark as Carter Johns jogged through the suburban sprawl of Canoga Park. The sharp late-autumn breezes of the valley were pleasantly bracing, cooling rather than chilling him. He was out pounding the largely empty streets this fine Thursday evening in order to clear his head. What with one thing and another, it had been a long few weeks and this was the first opportunity he had really had to cut loose in that time. Coming upon with the local high school he saw the gate was open and so ducked in to use the track on their athletic field, which appeared to be deserted.

This was the very school his children attended, and he decided it would be good to see the track as they saw it. It was while lost in such reflection that it happened. One second he was enjoying his run, and the next he was sent sprawling as something slammed into him at high speed from above. Stumbling to his feet, he staggered into the soft sand of the long jump pit. Even as he realized this, so he felt the air displacement as whatever had struck him landed softly behind him. Dazed, he turned to face his attacker. It was dark, but in the illumination provided by the streetlamps of the distant road and the security lights around the running track, he could make out its powerful, form, all color washed out by their sodium glare. He barely had time to take in any details before the creature lashed out, claws raking his throat and severing his jugular. Carter Johns slumped to his knees, blood gushing from his neck, then face forward into the sand. He did not get up. He never would again.

Five minutes later and two miles distant, Gary Negretti was driving along the main San Fernando valley highway, listening to classic rock on his car radio. After a long, frustrating day at the base he was looking forward to getting home and settling down in front of his TV with a six-pack to watch the big game. He was contemplating the Raiders' recent, woeful form, when something heavy landed on the roof of the car, causing him to swerve in surprise. As he straightened up, powerful talons stabbed through the roof, peeling it back like tinfoil. Instinctively, he threw the steering wheel as far right as he could, hoping the sudden lurch would eject his attacker from the roof.

It didn't.

Negretti took his gun from the car's glove box, swinging it upwards as he did so. He was fast, but the creature was faster. It grabbed his wrist before he could bring his gun to bear. The struggle only lasted a few seconds, but that was long enough for him to lose control of the car. Unfortunately they were on a bend. Even more unfortunately, they left the road at a point where a section of crash rail was missing, sailing out into the air. The creature took wing as they did so, soaring clear as the car crashed down the slope, totally out of control. Negretti cried out as he saw the trees at the bottom rushing towards him. Then the car smashed into them and he knew no more.

Whether he was unconscious for seconds or for hours Negretti had no way of knowing know, but as soon as he came too he grabbed a second item from the glove box, released his seat belt, then rolled out of the car, scrambling unsteadily to his feet, gun in hand.

And not a moment too soon.

The thing hit him at speed, knocking him backwards. He fired at it as it tried to press its advantage, bullets slicing through the leathern skin of one wing. It hissed in fury, and Negretti got his first good look at its face.

It was the face of a demon.

Negretti paused for a moment, then resumed firing, his bullets driving the creature back against the car until he had no bullets left. When that happened he dropped his gun, pulled the pin from the other item he'd taken from his glove box, and lobbed the grenade over the demon's head and in through the ruined roof of his car. All this before it had time to react.

The explosion was much bigger than he'd expected. It blew the car to pieces, setting fire to the trees and dry grass over a large radius. Fortunately, Negretti was far enough away and partially shielded by the creature for the blast to do no more than knock him off his feet.

Ears ringing, he looked up, expecting to see the demon's remains spread over a wide area. Instead he spotted it in the air and already a hundred yards distant, flying away. The thing was tough as hell, but it had clearly had enough. Getting to his feet, he brushed the dirt from his uniform then started up the embankment to the road where he hoped to flag down a passing car.

Despite being a self-professed devout Christian, it had been months since Gary Negretti had last set foot inside a church. He would remedy that tonight.