

Cameron’s head throbbed as she tried to get a sense of her surroundings. It was pitch black, thanks to the strip of cloth covering her eyes. Despite the rising noise from a small crowd, searing its way into the base of her pounding skull like a hot poker, she didn’t move a muscle.
“What should we do with her?” an old man asked. His voice was a strange mix of brittle and croak.
“Find out how much she knows.” The smooth male response was equal parts condescending and amused. “You can play with her, a little, but don’t kill her.”
Cameron’s whole body broke out in gooseflesh at the sound. Declan, she thought. She’d heard his voice only once, when she was a child. It was little more than a distant rumble at the time, scattered across the open yard by a freezing, swirling breeze, but she was sure it was him.
The old man mumbled something under his breath.
“Merle, if she dies in your care, I’ll come back here and pull you apart piece by tiny little piece. Until there’s nothing left of you but bloody stumps and wails of agony. Got it?”
“Yes. Yes, sir. I’m sorry,” Merle quailed.
“Good. I have plans for this little lady,” Declan taunted as cold fingertips brushed across Cameron’s cheeks.

Casey lives in Western Colorado with her husband and their pack of rowdy rescue dogs. She enjoys reading a little bit of everything, but she has a fondness for immersive and emotionally engaging science fiction, dystopian, post-apoc, speculative fiction, and romance.


















