Griffin Hayes
Nestled in the warm belly of the abandoned Keisel Steel Works, an ancient creature has begun to stir. A one-hundred-year cycle is drawing to a rapid close and with it the time when the beast must lead her newly hatched young to the feeding grounds. A handful of the oldest folks in town remember that time well. A time when the sky was clotted with flapping, leathery wings and monsters driven mad by the smell of human blood. They also know of the feeding grounds. They know them as the backyards in which their kids play and the streets of the tiny Alaskan town they call home.
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