The Walk

<p>When environmental engineer <strong>Marcus Chen</strong> proves there's toxic contamination in the city's water supply he expects a recall not a reckoning. Nightmares of drowning follow. The number <strong>3:47</strong> appears where it shouldn't-on clocks invoices street signs-as if a turn is being called rather than a time. Faucets whisper. Rooms feel rearranged when nobody's home. His wife Sarah and daughter Emma are loving yet oddly scripted. <strong>Dr Patricia Martinez</strong> the neurologist trying to help is seeing similar disturbances in other patients. And in the glass-always at the edge of sight-the <strong>Watchers</strong>.</p><p></p><p>Threaded through it all is a behavioural programme known as <strong>The Walk</strong>: four stages quiet rules no questions. It selects its subjects. It keeps what it likes. As Marcus pushes for answers he's trapped between two intolerable possibilities: a ruthless human design dismantling chosen lives or an inherited madness finally breaking surface. Either way every step forward feels like a step <strong>back</strong>-toward the first contamination the first choice the reason he was noticed at all.</p><p></p><p><strong>THE WALK</strong> is a slow-burn psychological thriller about trust surveillance and the fragile borders of the mind-ideal for readers who prefer dread that tightens by degrees over cheap jump scares.</p>