Frustrated at not being able to make heads or tails of what the Paco was saying, Dylan sighed and mumbled, "OK, let's go take a look at this dead goat." He pulled some papers over the pistol, left it on the seat, and stepped out of his rig to follow Paco towards the goat pen. "I tell you, Paco. You've always been one of Dad's best workers. I hope you're not going nuts on me."

"You will see, señor," Paco replied as he held a gate open. "You will see there are things in this world even your people do not yet know."

Even before Dylan walked around the edge of the barn, he could tell something was wrong. There were none of the normal sounds of a barnyard. Even the chickens had stopped their endless clucking. As he entered the goat pen, he saw terrified goats crowded into one corner, and in the middle of the pen, an old nanny goat lay on her side, obviously dead.

Dylan knelt by the body and studied both it and the ground around it. "What is this?" he asked. "This was no coyote attack, there are no teeth marks. Just this little hole right here on her neck." Dylan spun on his heels and glared at Paco. "Who killed this goat?" he demanded accusingly. "Answer me! What's going on here?"

Some of the other farm hands had come up behind Paco and were now hanging on the gate and fence. They whispered amongst themselves, and Dylan could hear the word "Chupacabra" repeated over and over.