Forests of the Night?

Below is a brief glimpse of another Caley Faith Dayton story. The tale is in progress, and hopefully, when I find the time, it will see the light of day:

“Did you know we’re an experiment?” Caley Faith Dayton asked.

The man, Ryan Baum, made no attempt to struggle. His gaunt and gray face glistened with fear. “I told you,” he said in a strained voice. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Caley pressed the Beretta against his temple – a promise of absolution. “Can you feel them?” she asked.

His eyes screwed tight as though trying to will himself to another place. His mouth worked silently like that of a man endlessly uttering a prayer.

“Caley,” Graham said. “I don’t think he knows anything.”

She and Graham stood before their prisoner. In the gloom of an empty warehouse he seemed a shriveled man, tied to a metal chair, helpless. Waves of sickly yellow light washed through the grimy windows above, spilling on the floor. Rain danced on the roof, a tinny sound of countless feet joined in a sinister dance.

“Caley . . .” Graham repeated softly.

“He knows,” she said, arm rigid, the gun’s barrel planted firmly against the captive’s head. “I can sense it in him.” Through the weapon, she felt him trembling.

“Perhaps,” Graham said. “Or maybe it is something else.”

Thunder rumbled, shaking the ramshackle structure. With preternatural speed, Caley snapped the Beretta to her side. She cocked her head toward Graham. “So what’s your plan?”

* * *