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Prologue
POCONO MOUNTAINS
3 December 1979
He hovered among the trees waiting. His shoulders shuddered from the cold December night air, and he pulled the zipper up on his black leather bomber jacket to keep warm.
Just over six feet tall, his broad, thick shoulders, narrowed hips and chiseled face led one to assume he was powerfully athletic. His short slicked back hair, piercing eyes, and set jaw added an ominous presence on the deserted country road.
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Darkness swept over the winding hills just south of the Pocono Mountains in Pennsylvania as a patch of clouds drifted across the sky, concealing the illuminating full moon.
The stranger cocked his head slightly and his body stiffened at the sound of a vehicle coming towards him from the north. Knowing the time was approaching, his swift movement as the car rounded the corner was imperceptible in the isolated area.
The man driving the green, two-door Ford Escort glanced back to check on his three month-old-daughter, sleeping in the back. The smile of peace and contentment on his face swiftly disappeared when his wife screamed in shock.
“Grant! Watch out for the deer!” shouted the terrified woman. She grabbed the dashboard to brace herself for impact. Her face contorted in fear.
He slammed on the brakes and frantically turned the steering wheel to the left. But the car skidded across a patch of black ice and spun out of control. Plunging into a ditch it toppled, end over end, before smashing up against a tree, forcing it to come to an abrupt standstill.
The deer escaped death and disappeared into the night without a trace of its existence.
The mysterious stranger, appearing from the dust, walked slowly and purposefully towards the accident. Looking down into the ditch he saw the car, crunched and mangled with steam hissing from under the hood.
Loosing his balance as he sidestepped down the edge of the ditch, he grabbed onto the log of a dead tree to steady himself. He inched his way down the partially frozen and slippery brush filled bank. Reaching the bottom he stopped and brushed the dirt off his lambskin jacket. “Damn!” he muttered to himself noticing the rip on the right sleeve.
Shrugging off his annoyance, he straightened himself up and returned his attention to the car ahead and kept moving. His keen hearing detected the sound of the baby crying inside the car. He approached slowly, taking care not to trip over the busted branches and debris left behind from the collision.
A low tree branch had ripped through and shattered the windshield. The stranger peered inside and whistled at the devastation. The branch had pierced through the man’s chest, pinning him to the seat. The woman’s eyes were glazed, her hair soaked with blood, her right arm snapped in two from the impact.
Both husband and wife were dead.
Moving along the side the stranger inspected the vehicle’s damage. He stopped to study the baby girl strapped into a child’s seat in the back. Although she was still wailing she appeared to be unharmed. Satisfied, the man straightened, his expression as cold as ice. He adjusted his jacket, turned and walked away, into the darkness of the night.
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