The world was dark. Dereck Little held the torch higher, but everything seemed to absorb the light. Outside the circle of torchlight, there was nothing.

He had no idea how he had gotten there. One minute he had been in his bed, the next, here, wherever here was. There was nothing but darkness and damp tar-like earth. The idea this was a dream was beginning to seem more and more likely, but if it was a dream, it was the most lucid dream he had ever experienced.

Everything felt so real—the cold wind on his face, his heart thumping inescapably in his chest, even the fatigue of walking through the mud. His muscles hurt more than ever, even more than after football. He was panting. He had to stop soon. But there was an impending sense of dread at the back of his mind, as if there was some...

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