The following is a short excerpt from my novel, Deep Water:

Salem Matthews IV tried to quell the lump of terror that was working its way upward from the pit of his stomach. He reached out into the darkness, trying to identify his surroundings. Sweat poured from his body and his hands trembled like an alcoholic going through detoxification.

What is this place? Pakistan? It looks like the northern highlands. I think I can see the Pamir Range. Where’s the rest of the team? I can’t do this alone. We need to finish the mission.

His hands touched something soft. He moved closer and found himself looking into the dead eyes of Lieutenant Burns. Salem could hear the blood roaring in his ears as he took in the full scope of the carnage. The entire squad had been killed.


Salem turned and tried to run. He couldn’t move – quicksand rose to his waist and threatened to carry him under. He could hear the enemy coming for him; he could smell the lunatic rage they wore like cheap cologne.

Hot, fetid breath tickled his neck. With a Herculean effort, Salem opened his eyes and banished the nightmare with a soundless scream.