Forest

Of

Fear

 



 

     Bruce Lyon stepped from his Renault and stared at the small brown sign. That was the marker which he had been told to find, and finding it meant he was at the right place… and it was just around the corner. He knew he had seen this sign at least a thousand times, but paid no attention to it.

     It appeared this could be the final piece of the puzzle, and the indication that he was in the right place was the small red ribbon pinned to the top of the sign; he had been told to look for that, as well.

     The man walked up the forest trail slowly. He had followed the directions he had been given, but now wondered if this was what the note had meant. A narrow trail into a forest of giant trees had absolutely no connection to what he was doing.

     In spite of the fact that it was a partly cloudy day, the foliage blocked the light and as he walked further down the trail, with deep undergrowth crowding in from both sides, he spotted a glow, maybe a light in the distance.

     Stopping for a moment, he tried to see what was causing the illumination. As he stood, straining to see, he heard a sound behind him, a sound of footsteps crunching dead leaves. He turned and stared as a dark figure illuminated by the sun behind it, moved slowly toward him.

PROLOGUE

​

Fort Kincaid, SC

Tuesday Morning in Late June