After a four-year stint in the Marine Corps, Scott Pritchard should have left government service. The dreams were getting worse. But he talked himself into applying for top-secret security assignments. Finally off the active duty rosters, his head was crowded, jam-packed tighter than sardines in a can, and he was sure the monsters were coming for him. Some people called him an insane son of a bitch; he knew he was just unfocused. And now the military wanted him for a special assignment. R&D had blown open the inner gates of hell, and it was up to Scott to close them. He could've told them the monsters were coming for him.