🗝️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...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Dylan's heart pounded and stumbled... then he let out a sigh of relief and finally dared to breathe again. Underneath the damn tarp lay the carcass of a young deer. It had to be relatively fresh, probably from around noon, and now Dylan caught the unmistakable
scent of deer and blood. But the most important thing was that it wasn't his son, his wife, Fiona, or the dog.
"False alarm. Just a deer," he replied curtly to Ryker's question and could see the tension drop from his comrade. It had been many years since they had shared the same fear, felt the same tension in their veins, and had the same goal.
"Come on, we've already lost too much time," whispered Ryker, and Dylan silently agreed, already putting his hand on the edge of the loading area. It was a coincidence that his gaze fell through the dirty window into the driver's cab... directly onto a smeared bloodstain on the dashboard above the glove compartment.
"Ray!" Immediately, his pulse raced again. Dylan turned around, ran to the other side and jumped down. He jammed the blade into the crack of the door and immediately pushed with all his might against the long shaft. The leverage did the trick. With a groan and a moan, the old metal bent and Dylan yanked open the passenger door. What he saw froze the blood in his veins.
The old leather of the passenger seat was smeared with blood. It was stuck to the seat, on the side of the seat, on the belt and even on the glove compartment. The inside of the door was also stained.
Inside, the husband and father now fought with the soldier's composure for control over his next action. One part of him wanted to storm into the house like a raging bull. His wife and daughter were wounded. Maybe dead. He wanted to kill the bastard. Right then. What if they were already too late?
"That's...a lot of blood." Next to him, Ryker was shaking, clutching the rifle so tightly that his hands had turned pale.
"Come on, hurry now", Dylan urged, turning away from the horrific sight. Suddenly, Dylan's head was empty, and his throat felt so tight that it felt like a garrotte was wrapped around it. He could only think of finding Eve, holding her in his arms and... oh God.
