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A blizzard brings a city to a standstill and ushers in an evil that defies imagination in this gripping tale from #1 New York Times bestselling author Dean Koontz.
Winter gripped the city. Terror gripped it, too. They found four corpses in four days, each more hideous than the last.
At first the cops thought they were dealing with a psychopath. But soon they heard eerie sounds in the ventilation system—and saw unearthly silver eyes in the snow-slashed night.
In a city paralyzed by a blizzard, something watches, something stalks…
When Hampton finished chanting, when he put down the asson, Jack said, “Those terrific smells—where are they coming from?” “They’re the olfactory equivalents of visual apparitions,” Hampton said. Jack blinked at him, not sure he understood. “Apparitions? You mean... ghosts?’” “Yes. Spirits. Benign spirits.” “But I don’t see them.” “You’re not meant to see them. As I told you, they haven’t materialized visually. They’ve manifested themselves as fragrances, which isn’t an unheard of
as vicious as the trashing of her locker and the destruction of her clarinet. No. It hadn’t been Sissy or Cara or any of the other snobs. But if not them... who? Chris Howe had remained crouched in front of Penny’s locker, pawing through the debris. Now he stood up, holding a fistful of mangled pages from her textbooks. He said, “Hey, look at this. This stuff hasn’t just been torn up. A lot of it looks like it’s been chewed.” “Chewed?” Sally Wrather said. “See the little teeth marks?” Chris
you believe in the possibility of miracles and the existence of the occult without also embracing the claims of at least some of those who said they had been witness to manifestations of the supernatural? Your faith could have no substance if you did not also accept the reality of its effects in this world. It was a thought that hadn’t occurred to him before, and now he stared at Carver Hampton with mixed feelings, with both doubt and cautious acceptance. Rebecca would say he was being
“Hampton wasn’t faking when he told me he was terrified of Lavelle.” “How did Lavelle know precisely the right moment to call that pay phone?” Rebecca asked. “How did he know exactly when you’d be passing by it? One answer is that he was in Hampton’s shop the whole time you were there, in the back room, and he knew when you left.” “He wasn’t,” Jack said. “Hampton’s just not that good an actor.” “He’s a clever fraud,” she said. “But even if he isn’t tied to Lavelle, I think we ought to get men
“Two corpses.” “I know what stiffs are,” he said. “The call just came in.” “Did you order two stiffs?” “Be serious.” “I didn’t order two stiffs.” “Uniforms are already on the scene,” she said. “Our shift doesn’t start for seven minutes.” “You want me to say we won’t be going out there because it was thoughtless of them to die this early in the morning?” “Isn’t there at least time for polite chit-chat?” he asked. “No.” “See, the way it should be ... you’re supposed to say, ‘Good