Caleb Rennes hasn't slept in six days. His body is shutting down. But every time his eyelids drop, something in his room moves.His cameras show nothing. His monitors show nothing. The sleep clinic where he works has equipment that detects brainwaves down to the millisecond. According to the data, he is alone.But Caleb knows what he sees in that half-second between awake and asleep. A figure in his peripheral vision. Closer each time. And last night, for the first time—it didn't disappear when he opened his eyes.