🗝️Detective Ryker Viltarin must uncover dark secrets before he loses not only his heart but also his life.🗝️
You're on your own, far from home
The wind is blowing in the top of the pines
A gloomy sky where the sun never shines
Deep...
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"Stay," he ordered in a stern voice. He saw the clever dark eyes look up at him. "Guard the door, Chief."
Indeed, the sheepdog seemed to have understood him, for as he directed his steps into the night, his faithful friend stayed behind on the porch. Only the male dog's gaze seemed to follow him attentively.
Ryker stepped purposefully around the house towards the window through which he thought he could see the silhouette in the forest. He kept waving the flashlight in his hand, the weight of which gave him a sense of security. At first glance, he could see nothing suspicious. Everything looked the same as always. The same wilted grass lay at his feet .... Or ...?
He dropped into a crouch and stroked the withered stalks before him. Ray felt the dew wetting his hand and mixing with the cold sweat.
He had not been mistaken!
Some of the stalks had been trampled flat. Fine, barely perceptible marks ran through the turf, too big to have come from his game. Too fresh.
A loud cracking sound startled him, only a few meters away. Quick as an arrow, he snatched up the lamp and backed away to put some distance between himself and the telltale sound. His heart beat faster, every fiber of his body tensed, and his left hand automatically clenched into a fist in anticipation of a possible attack.
Instead, he caught a brief glimpse between the thickets of the forest's edge of the familiar gray and green camouflage he knew from the past. Camouflage clothing and someone hurrying away.
"STOP!" he shouted into the night with the full bass of his voice as the rustling moved away with hurried steps. Instinctively, his body fell into a familiar pattern: he sprinted off as the leaves rustled excitedly around his feet.
Ryker threw himself through the thicket, knocking aside oncoming branches and hurrying across the foliage and damp forest floor. His eyes were fixed on the figure moving deftly through the night... as if it wanted to lure him away from the hut.
The thought struck him like a bolt of lightning. Immediately, his heels dug into the damp ground, drawing fine grooves in the moist earth and bringing the dancing beam of light to rest.
