We all flanked the truck and guided Dean until he was halfway into the garage. Then Jim killed the lights, and the four of us unloaded our guest. Its black eyes were more pronounced in the shadows, making the face look almost alien. The tongue had swollen in its mouth and was pressed against the fangs – a fat prisoner leaning against the bars of his cell. We wrapped the carcass in tarps and helped Hank carry it down to the basement.