I had been driving all day and into the night, never going less than seventy. The stars are bright in the Arizona desert without the sprawling skyscrapers and the illuminated smog to obscure them. I could make out a few of the easier constellations like Orion and the Big Dipper, but for the most part I just enjoyed the sight. It was a welcome release from what I had had to put with from my wife and kids.

I needed to get away from them before I lost my mind. Sure, the problems had been backing up like a clogged septic tank for years now, but that morning everything finally exploded. Over breakfast Karen suggested that we all get some family therapy. I didn't know what brought that up. It's not like I ever hit her or the kids. At any rate, that was the last straw. Any man who can't hold his own family together might as well just give up. So I ended up heading east to start over, hopefully with someone I was more compatible with. I didn't really care to see the kids, either. She was making them into a bunch of pathetic little weaklings with all those books and stuff.

I left just before lunch after Karen and I had fought about that therapy bit all morning. She wanted to know where I was going, of course, but I didn't tell her. I went straight to the bank and closed my savings account. With two thousand dollars in my pocket and the clothes on my back I set off east.

I wanted to get all the way to Phoenix before I stopped, but the fuel gauge was on "E" when I crossed the Arizona border, and the thought of being stranded in the desert was not particularly appalling. Since I hadn't eaten since breakfast, I had two good reasons to take a break.

I spotted a small truck stop and decided to fill my car and my stomach. A single flickering neon sign said "DOLLY'S" in large, sky-blue letters. Three gas pumps stood like silent sentinels a few yards form the front door. A tractor trailer and a hatchback were sitting in the parking lot, and that was probably brisk business for a place out in the middle of nowhere.

After I parked, I noticed how cool the weather had become. A the time I though it was just the arid desert air. Now I'm not so sure.

I decided to eat first and pump gas later. I walked up to the glass door of the truck stop and opened it. My entrance was cheerfully greeted by a string of bells hanging from the door. I hate those things.

The interior looked bigger than the outside, but that wasn't saying much. The diner only had three booths and five barstools. A small radio feebly broadcasted a country western station. The joint smelled like Lysol and bacon greases.

The trucker sat in the middle stool, gripping a coffee cup with both hands. He matched all the popular stereotypes of a trucker. He was wearing a flannel shirt, blue-jeans, and a dirty hunting cap. He had a dark, overgrown beard and a noticeable flap of flesh hung over his belt. It was almost comical, but I was in no laughing mood.

The booth farthest away from the door was occupied by a family of four. The two kids were rowdy and noisy, and the weak-willed parents were doing a lousy job of shutting them up. I almost turned around and walked out right there, but I didn't know if my gas-starved car would make it to the next truck stop. I resigned myself to sitting in the booth closest to the door.

After a few minutes, a waitress in her mid-forties walked up to my booth. "What'll ya have?" she said in a barely detectable southern accent. She was chewing some spearmint gum and didn't show any qualms about exhaling its sickly-sweet scent in my direction. I ordered a simple hamburger and coffee, but she felt the urge to write it down on her little note pad before she left.

I was waiting for my food when I heard the bells on the door jingle. I looked up. The first thing I noticed was the guy's orange hair. He was easily as big as the truck driver and had he was hanging his head so that I couldn't see his face. He sat down in the booth behind me. I heard the waitress ask him several times for his order, but he never answered. She shrugged walked back behind the counter, muttering something I didn't catch. She was probably thinking that the guy was either drunk or psycho.

I finally got my food fifteen minutes later. I'm not sure whether it was force of habit or the noisy kids, but I found myself wondering what my family was eating that night. I forced the thought from my mind, determined not to let them ruin the rest of my life.

I was halfway through the burger when the doorbells rang again and a gust of cool wind washed over my face. this time a tall, slim man in a black nylon jacket walked in. He had black hair and a drawn, sallow face. He stood next to the door for a few seconds, scanning the room. His dark, piercing eyes made his face look even paler, more skeletal. I shivered involuntarily when his gaze crossed over me. Then he walked past me. I turned my head slightly, keeping his movements in the corner of my eye. he sat down across from the red haired man. I listened to their conversation, although I'm not really sure why.

"Charlie," the man said, barely above a whisper, "you have a job to finish."

The red haired guy, presumably Charlie, sounded like he was crying. I winced. He was pathetic.

"Look," the man continued, "you let them out, now you're going to have to get them back. You got it?"

"They...they killed her," Charlie whispered.

"That's right, they did. Now what are you going to do about it?"

I was distracted for a moment by the radio suddenly becoming swamped with static. I heard someone flicking through the stations, but it wasn't receiving anything.

A faint rumbling pulled my attention to the window. The stars were gone. I could see flashes of lighting across the sky on the horizon. The wind was picking up, blowing dust across the parking lot and rattling some windchimes outside. I had never seen a storm blow in that quickly before.

"It's coming," Charlie said meekly.

"All this is your fault, Charlie. If you don't set it right, this entire world is going to hell, and you with it."

"No, no it won't. I'll just leave. I'll get out of--"

"Then I'll kill you myself, you coward," the man hissed.

Charlie seemed somewhat subdued. "But I might die."

"You'll die anyway. You're in it up to your hairline and if you expect to get out of this with your soul, you'd better do some fixing."

An especially loud crash of thunder rattled the entire diner. I cringed away from the window, fearing that it would shatter from the vibrations. I felt in my gut that something was definitely wrong. The kids began bawling and even the trucker threw a nervous glance at the gathering storm. I think I heard Charlie begin to pray.

"Shut up!" the black haired man rasped. "If you're expecting angels to come down from heaven and save your sorry butt, don't hold your breath. You're coming with me now, and you're going to put a stop to this."

Charlie must have offered some kind of silent consent because a moment later the two of them were walking toward the door. A hot gust of wind rushed through the open door, making placemats and napkins airborne. Charlie hesitated, but the other man shoved him through the door.

I don't know why I decided to get involved. Maybe I was curious, maybe I'm just stupid, but, against my better judgement, I decided to follow them to see what they were up to. I shelled out five bucks for the burger and tip and hurried toward the door. The temperature must have jumped by at least fifty degrees, causing beads of sweat to congregate al over my body. A stifling wind nearly knocked me off my feet..

I saw Charlie climbing into a battered red jeep, but I couldn't see the black-haired man. I watched the jeep to pull out into the highway and begin speeding away. I bolted for my car and leaped into the driver's seat. As I fumbled for my keys, I felt a heavy hand clamp down on my shoulder.

It was the black-haired man. With strength I wouldn't have thought him capable of, he yanked me out of my car and slammed my up against the side of my car. Pain was still echoing through my head when he grabbed my by the collar and brought my face a few inches from his own sweat-soaked face. He looked directly at me, his eyes burning into my soul.

"You wanted to follow us, did you? You wanted to find out what those two looneys were up to, huh? Well take a good look."

He pointed off to the horizon. The sky was illuminated with a reddish glow that was growing brighter by the second. I thought I saw the black line of the horizon buckle and writhe in the light.

The man turned back to me. "Thank God every day that you don't know about all the things stalking the edge of existence like wolves. Thank God that you have a family and a world for your children. Be thankful for what you've got, so that it doesn't turn into this."

My mind was suddenly overwhelmed by a horrific vision. I don't remember it entirely, but I'm sure that it was a glimpse at pure evil. All I really remember is that I saw Karen and my kids being engulfed by a vicious, malignant darkness. I think I screamed. I know I passed out.

I woke up in the back seat of my car. The sun shone brightly through the cloudless sky. I got out of my car, and I was greeted by a cool, dry breeze. I felt a peculiar, tingling sense of well-being deep in my soul as I looked at the horizon and saw only the familiar blue of the sky.

I headed back toward the diner. I was glad to hear the bells, since they testified that I was still alive. The shifts had changed, so now I was talking to a different waitress. I didn't want any food, though, just gas. I had some family therapy to get to.