"Ayudia! Ayudia!" the cry rolled across the open fields. Dylan looked up and squinted out towards the source of the noise. "Señor Keppen, come quickly! Ayudia!" a farm hand called as he scrambled over a fence. Dylan could not make out the identity of the employee. At that distance, he looked like any other person in a blue jeans and a cowboy hat.

"What is it? What is going on?" Dylan called back as reached under his seat and gripped the smooth handle of his .45 revolver. The workers on the farm were pretty stable, but the millennium was about to change and people were acting pretty strange. As the man came closer, Dylan recognized him as Paco, the foreman on the day shift.

Breathless, Paco clutched at Dylan through the truck's window "Señor Keppen! El Chupacabra! El Chupacabra esta aqui!"

"Whoa, hold on there, Paco," Dylan reached out with his left hand and patted the flustered foreman on the arm. With his right hand, Dylan pulled back the hammer on the pistol and laid it along his thigh. A big, fat slug like a .45 wouldn't penetrate the door of the truck, but Dylan was sure that if he kept a firm grip, he could hang on to the deranged man long enough to get a clean head shot.