Novels by daiton001

The road was half-rotted and forgotten, swallowed by the forest. Logan drove with the headlights off, tires crunching quietly over gravel. Beside him, Mason checked the magazine on his rifle. Reyes sat in the back with the kid, Finn, who hadn’t spoken much since they left the cabin.“You sure about this place?” Reyes asked.“No,” Logan answered. “That’s what makes it the right place.”The entrance was hidden beneath a landslide. The only giveaway was the steel hatch barely peeking through the soil, its hinges rusted but not broken.Finn stepped forward. “They dragged her in through here. I watched from the ridge.”“Anyone else guarding it?”“Two men. Both smelled—off.”Logan nodded. “Means they weren’t men.”Mason tensed. “Werewolves?”“Or something worse,” Logan said.They pried open the hatch. Cold air rushed out, stale and metallic.Below them, darkness waited.They moved quietly through the old power trail, using the canopy for cover. Rhea led with two others: a sharp-eyed woman n

The cabin was cold, the windows boarded, and the floor covered in dried mud and cigarette ash. Logan stood by the fireplace, sharpening his knife in silence. Mason paced behind him, frustrated.“She’s out there,” Mason said. “And we’re stuck here waiting.”Logan didn’t look up. “You want to run out there and get killed too? Be my guest.”The door creaked open. Reyes stepped in — soaked from rain, shotgun over his shoulder.“No sign of Evelyn,” he said. “But someone’s following us.”Logan finally turned. “Circle?”“No. Smarter. Slower. Could be local.”Mason rubbed his eyes. “This town’s barely on the map. Why would anyone follow us?”Reyes tossed something onto the table — a metal tag with a number etched into it: S-019.“That’s not Evelyn’s file,” Logan said slowly.“No,” Reyes muttered. “It’s someone else’s. And they’re not dead.”Evelyn dragged herself through the pine needles, ribs bruised, blood drying on her fingers. She didn’t know how far she’d run from Hollowmere, but the air

Rain hammered the city like it was trying to drown the truth.Evelyn stood beneath the crumbling awning of an abandoned print shop, her breath sharp in the cold night air. Her coat was soaked through. Her knuckles were bloodied. The USB drive in her fist felt like it weighed a hundred pounds.This was it. Everything Reyes had buried. Everything the Circle tried to erase. Photos. Names. Procedures. Lab reports. The Bellwether Protocol. Neural suppression tech. The placement program. Julian. Herself. All of it.She'd send it all.She’d been running, hiding, fighting, bleeding for too long. And they kept controlling the story. Not anymore.Her burner phone buzzed once. Mason. Again. She ignored it.The city's data dump was just two blocks down — a hub for whistleblowers and hackers, protected by a loose alliance of anti-corporate watchdogs and street-level technomancers. She didn’t need to trust them. She just needed the files to spread.One truth at a time.Earlier That DayMason slamme

Evelyn kept her sidearm raised, finger just off the trigger.The woman in the red scarf didn’t flinch.“You knew my mother,” Evelyn said. “Start talking.”The woman took a deliberate step forward. "Maris didn’t just work on Bellwether. She initiated it. She was trying to solve something you don’t yet understand."Evelyn gritted her teeth. “Try me.”“You were born from the solution,” the woman replied calmly. “But the solution never came.”Evelyn’s pulse spiked. “Who are you?”“Codename Lysandra. Officially? I don’t exist. But your mother and I... we built the first version of the Placement Protocol together. Before Damian corrupted it. Before The Circle took control.”She glanced at the van. “They’re moving Wendy because she broke containment. She remembers too much. You want the truth? You need her alive.”“Then why are you here?” Evelyn demanded. “To warn me? Or clean up after the Circle?”“I’m here,” Lysandra said, “because you're about to make the same mistake your mother did. And

The envelope slipped from Evelyn’s fingers.She stared at the article, the circled name, the accusation inked beneath in a sharp, angry scrawl. She lied to you. You’re not the only one they made. The paper crinkled in her grip as her mind raced.Wendy.Was she part of it? Another subject like Evelyn? Or worse — a plant? A lie wrapped in grief, dropped on that rooftop just to set Evelyn on this path?But then why save her? Why deliver the envelope, the photo, the warning?Unless that too had been orchestrated.Evelyn stood abruptly, the room suddenly too small. Her breathing sounded loud in the silence. She walked to the sink and splashed water on her face, gripping the porcelain edges until her knuckles turned white.She couldn’t trust anyone — not even the people who seemed broken like her. Especially not them.A knock.Not at the door this time — her window.She turned fast, gun already in hand, safety off. But when she pulled the curtain back, she froze.It was Mason.Rain soaked t

The stairwell smelled like rust and dust, every step up echoing with the weight of memory.Evelyn pushed open the heavy rooftop door. Wind rushed her face, cold and cutting. Rain slicked the concrete. The city stretched out in all directions — but all she saw was the figure standing near the edge.Female. Mid-thirties maybe. Back turned. Long coat flapping in the wind.“Don’t come any closer!” the woman shouted without turning.Evelyn stopped in her tracks. Raised both hands. “I’m not here to stop you. I just want to talk.”“I know who you are,” the woman said. Her voice trembled. “Detective Evelyn Black. Daughter of Michael Black. They told me you were gone.”“I’m here now,” Evelyn said. “Who told you that?”A pause. A long one.Then the woman finally turned her head — just enough to show her profile.Evelyn’s heart jumped.She knew that face.Or thought she did.“You were in one of his files,” she said. “Wendy Arlo. You went missing in 2004.”Wendy’s eyes welled. “No one misses what