The Hatching: A Novel
3.5/5
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About this ebook
“An apocalyptic extravaganza of doom and heroism…addictive.” —Publishers Weekly
“This is a fresh take on classic horror, thoroughly enjoyable and guaranteed to leave your skin crawling.” —Michael Koryta, New York Times bestselling author of Those Who Wish Me Dead
“Guaranteed to do what Jaws did to millions of people.” —Suspense Magazine
An astonishingly inventive and terrifying debut novel about the emergence of an ancient species, dormant for over a thousand years, and now on the march.
Deep in the jungle of Peru, where so much remains unknown, a black, skittering mass devours an American tourist whole. Thousands of miles away, an FBI agent investigates a fatal plane crash in Minneapolis and makes a gruesome discovery. Unusual seismic patterns register in a Kanpur, India earthquake lab, confounding the scientists there. During the same week, the Chinese government “accidentally” drops a nuclear bomb in an isolated region of its own country. As these incidents begin to sweep the globe, a mysterious package from South America arrives at a Washington, D.C. laboratory. Something wants out.
The world is on the brink of an apocalyptic disaster. An ancient species, long dormant, is now very much awake.
Ezekiel Boone
Ezekiel Boone lives in upstate New York with his wife and children. He is the internationally bestselling author of The Hatching, Skitter, and Zero Day.
Related to The Hatching
Titles in the series (3)
Zero Day: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Hatching: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Skitter: A Novel Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5
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Reviews for The Hatching
143 ratings22 reviews
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5A species of spider that has been dormant for 10,000 years suddenly reemerges in Peru, India and China. The spider breeds quickly, and is extremely aggressive, devouring everything in its path and devastating entire populations. Before the severity of the problem is realized, spiders have traveled around the world, threatening to destroy the human race in the progress.
The action in the book skips across countries and across people. Most of the second half takes place in the United States, as the President tries to take control of the situation, and FBI Agent Mike Rich investigates on the ground. We also see the crisis unfold from the point of view of survivalists in the California desert, and a group of Marines.
This is one of my top horror books of all time, maybe even the top one. This was a perfect horror book. The action moved quickly, and the threat felt real. I could definitely imagine the world being overrun by spiders and the human race being wiped out. The spiders are truly a formidable threat, and seem unstoppable. My only complaint is that the book ends on a cliff-hanger and now I have to wait for the sequel. I need to know what happens next.
I give this book 5 out of 5 stars. As an example of the horror genre, it is an almost perfect book. - Rating: 1 out of 5 stars1/5There were things I liked about this book and things I didn't. On the plus side: I wanted to keep reading; I wanted to get creeped out (and I was). The negatives: too many characters, too much jumping around, no real connection with characters and an abrupt ending.
It was "okay." - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5From the cover and title, I’m sure you can guess this story involves some sort of insect. Responsible world leaders have ensured their countries are prepped for a variety of events: plague, nuclear war, asteroid collision, etc. Yet insect infestation somehow missed the top 10 list. Incidents of voracious bugs start popping up across the globe: Peru, China, USA, India, etc. Get ready to be creeped out by the creepy crawlies!This was a pretty entertaining creature feature. The tension starts slowly. Perhaps this really is just a touristy walk through the Peruvian jungles. Maybe the Chinese really did have a training accident that involved a small nuclear detonation. Those odd shimmers beneath the seismic lab in India? Probably nothing. The action picks up with a private airplane crash and an entomologist, Melanie, examining an egg sac that is hundreds of years old. US President Stephanie Pilgrim will be tested as few presidents have. The bugs have hit US soil and it’s only a matter of time before the crunching sounds of chewing insects cause the White House staff to puke.This book has a pretty large cast and more and more characters kept being added in even late into the book. Now some are simply there to die horribly, but some appear to be keepers. On one hand, I really enjoyed that this was a world-wide catastrophe and that meant characters from a variety of nations, both men and women. A diverse cast usually means an awesome cast. On the other hand, we don’t get to spend a whole lot of time with any one character. I wanted to get attached to some characters, but by even the end of the book, I was only half way there. Mike Rich, FBI agent that reports to the Minneapolis event, was one of my favorite characters. He has this back story that involves a daughter (Annie) and his divorced wife (Fannie) plus he has this really tough job. Then I also like Melanie, and not just because we both share a love bugs. She’s in her 40s, has kept both mind and body in shape, and owns that lab in the sense that she is definitely the boss. Even though we get a lot less of her, I also liked Kim, who is in the marines and has to make some tough choices in this story.The bugs were awesome! There’s this sorta maybe tie in with the Nazca lines in Peru, a small mind in the middle of nowhere China, and the underground monitoring area beneath the seismic lab in India. The source of these bugs is a bit of a mystery, especially since they popped up in multiple countries around the same time. Then I also felt that people reacted realistically. There’s the initial disbelief, even with videos (perhaps an intricate hoax?). Then a few people get their hands on some actual insects and things start to go from fascinating for bug people to potential security issue for the nation. As the story bounces around the various characters, we get to see how scientists, preppers, politicians, military personnel, parents, one old coon dog, and murder mystery writers react.As things spiral down, some questions are answered and some are not, a few tiny things are resolved, and several big picture things are not. The book does end on a bit of a cliff hanger. I am very much hoping that Book 2 will be out in audio soon.I received a copy at no cost from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.The Narration: George Newbern has quite a good voice to listen to. He especially did a great job with imbuing the character voices with emotions. I like his sometimes coldly analytical Melanie, his gruff Scottish mystery writer, and his young Annie, daughter of FBI agent Mike Rich. Since this is a world-wide cast, we had characters from all over the world. Sometimes Newbern did a national accent and sometimes he chose not to. I think the performance would have been just a touch better if he had gone the extra mile with the national accents. Still, it was a pretty good performance and I hope he narrates Book 2.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Update to review (7/1/2017): I have just finished the second book in this series, Skitter, and if you do not want to be irritated beyond belief by this trilogy, wait for the third book in the series to come out in February 2018 before starting the series. IMO the second book is just a set-up for the third, and you will be sorely disappointed that you can't read the entire story at one go.
What a fantastic book! But then, I am a huge fan of the monster/creature movies like Them! (1954), The Thing (1982), Tremors (1990), and of course, Arachnid (2001). The Hatching was just like watching a really great creature feature. Without giving anything away, I can say that the book is about ancient carnivorous spiders who awaken and start terrifying/eating all the humans they come across.
Even though the book follows quite a few points of view, I never had any trouble keeping straight who the POV character was for each chapter. Every time I thought I knew where the story was going, I didn't. It's really nice that the Boone doesn't just kill off characters for shock effect, because I've come to like most of the main ones (in fact, I want them to be my friends!)
The only gripe I have is that about 200 pages in I realized there was no way to wrap up the story within the pages that were left. Boone does a nice job of wrapping up this first wave of the story, but if you love the book, you will have to buy/borrow the next in the series. Thank goodness Skitter (The Hatching #2) is already in book stores!
Also, I haven't stopped freaking out from every itch and weird feeling I've had since about 1/3 of the way through The Hatching, so read at your own risk, obviously. - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Hey Hollywood, Get on board, this terrific fast paced book would make a terrific film. One of the best horror novels I've read in a long time. But if you have a fear of spiders, skip this. A real page turner!Please note: this is the first book in a Trilogy.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This was a page turner for me. A cross betweeb horror and apocolyptic fiction, it had me hooked from the beginning. I really enjoyed the writing style. Told from many different points of view there are no real main characters until around page 75. It starts with the narrative shifting from an international setting (China, Peru, India, etc) to various places in the US. Back and forth from place to place and person to person, eventually the crisis is defined and we return to the States and the main characters emerge. I didn't find it scary and it's not really violent either but the topic is certainly freaky. It's fun to read an eotwawki that doesn't feature zombies or plagues for a change. Great characters enhance the plot and the only con I have is that the book doesn't have a finite ending. Instead we are left with impending doom. Fortunately the sequel has just come out!
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Es gibt so einiges, wovor sich der Mensch fürchtet: Jobverlust, Krieg, Krankheit, Tod; oder Tiere wie Löwen, Bären, Schlangen, Spinnen. Einer dieser Dinge behandelt „Die Brut“ von Ezekiel Boone – und es sind nicht Bären.Ezekiel Boone ist ein Pseudonym, von wem, weiß man nicht, allzu bekannt dürfte er aber nicht sein, denn selbst, wenn man sein Foto, das man auf seiner Webseite findet, googelt, erfährt man nichts. Sein Debütroman im deutschsprachigen Raum – in den USA gibt es bereits den Nachfolger der „Brut“, der bei uns voraussichtlich im August erscheint – ist allerdings das ekelhafteste, das ist seit langem gelesen habe. Es geht nämlich tatsächlich um Spinnen, und mit diesem Thema schlägt Boone eine ähnliche Richtung wie Linwood Barclay in seinen ersten Büchern ein – nämlich menschliche Alltagsängste. Nur, dass ich mir bei Boone schwer tue, dieses Buch im Thriller-Genre zu verorten, denn es sind nicht nur Spinnen, sondern Horden von Spinnen, die einfach alles fressen, was ihnen in die Quere kommt. Das würde eher ins Dystopie- oder Apokalypse-Genre passen – so wie die Geschichte allerdings erzählt wird, passt es am besten in die Horror-Schublade. Auf Bones Website werden beide Teile als "An apocalyptic extravaganza" beschrieben, was meine These zumindest nicht ausschließt, vielleicht sogar bestätigt. Um sicher zu gehen habe ich Boone kurzerhand via Facebook gefragt, welchem Genre er selbst "Die Brut" zuordnen würde und bekam folgende mehr oder weniger erhellende Antwort:"I think of the series as thrillers, but many people have labeled them horror novels. It wasn't until the I sold the book and was talking with editors that I even considered them horror. I thought of the novels to be more like big thrillers like Stephen King's THE STAND or Michael Crichton's JURASSIC PARK, or even the movie INDEPENDENCE DAY. I don't think there is a wrong answer, however."Vor allem in den ersten hundert Seiten wird es dem Leser nicht leicht gemacht, denn mit jedem Kapitel eröffnet sich ein neuer Erzählstrang auf einem neuen Standort; man weiß nicht, was wichtig ist und was nicht, welche Charaktere wichtig sind und welche nicht. Manchmal vergehen hundert Seiten, bis man wieder zu einem Strang zurückkehrt und man kann sich nur noch vage an die Charaktere erinnern. Aber gerade bei den Charakteren selbst macht es uns Boone leicht – sie sind nämlich alle gleich oder ähnlich, zumindest von ihren Charakterzügen, was vielleicht einfach zu lesen ist, weil man sich nicht alle paar Seiten umstellen muss, aber wenig für Boones Kreativität bei der Charakterzeichnung spricht. Wir haben zum Beispiel Melanie Guyer – die sich irgendwann als Hauptcharakter herauskristallisiert –, die Spinnenforscherin ist; wir haben Mike Rich, der Cop in Minnesota ist; wir haben Manny, der Stabschef im Weißen Haus ist; wir haben Gordo, der Survivalist in Desperation, Kalifornien ist; wir haben Kim, die Lance Corporal bei den Marines ist; und das waren bei weitem nicht alle, aber bei allen wird zumindest suggeriert, dass sie wichtig sein könnten – das trifft aber zumindest beim ersten von mindestens zwei Teilen der "Brut"-Reihe nicht zu, denn hier sind es nicht einmal eine Handvoll Charaktere und Stränge, die Relevanz für die Geschichte haben. Alle anderen wirken ohne dem Wissen, dass bald ein zweiter Teil kommt, wie Füllmaterial, um die Story aufzupeppen.Die Sprache ist einfach gehalten und die Geschichte ist in einem flotten und packenden Stil geschrieben; Kraftausdrücke sind weit gesät, alleine das Wort „Fuck“ kommt geschätzte 50-mal im Buch vor und wird von so gut jedem Charakter mindestens einmal benutzt. Ein Subthema ist Sex, ohne, dass der Sex wirklich stattfindet, aber fast jeder Charakter denkt darüber nach, mit wem er schläft oder gerne würde. Abgesehen davon bietet „Die Brut“ aber Stoff für eine ganze Serie von Albträumen, da die Szenen mit den Spinnen-Angriffen sehr authentisch beschrieben sind und das Kopfkino dabei auf Hochtouren läuft. Mich würde es nicht wundern, wenn der ein oder andere Leser diese Szenen überspringt, weil das Abendessen in seinem Magen einen anderen Weg als den üblichen nimmt. Showdown gibt es im ersten Teilen von "Die Brut" keinen, weshalb die Wertung dafür wegfällt.Fazit: Ich bin mir nicht sicher, ob sich Ezekiel Boone mit der Thematik in „Die Brut“ bei seinem Debüt einen Gefallen bereitet, denn in Teilen ist das Buch wirklich abschreckend und ich kann mir vorstellen, dass es einige Leute deshalb abbrechen. Andererseits setzt Boone damit eine Duftmarke und man kann sich vorstellen, was in seinen nächsten Büchern (abgesehen von der "Brut"-Reihe) noch kommen könnte. Jedenfalls ist "Die Brut" nichts für schwache Nerven.Mehr Rezensionen gibt's auf Krimisofa.com
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Quick read and hard to put down. I was not aware that this was a 1st book to a possible series until the end, however it could stand on it's own as well.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Delivered at a fast and furious pace, The Hatching by Ezekiel Boone is the first of a three part series about creepy-crawly, voracious flesh-eating spiders. Yes, this book is an arachnophobia terror trip as an ancient breed of spider emerges in various places around the world and causes havoc, chaos and death to millions. Of course the really bad news is that this is only the first book, so the situation is bound to get even worse before the trilogy ends. The highly readable the story is character driven as the book jumps from place to place and from character to character showing how the terror is overtaking the world. Even though this sounds like a plot-line from a Saturday afternoon creature feature, the author elevates his story by embracing the outlandishness and delivering a piece of apocalyptic fiction that isn’t based on science but rather on one of mankind's basic fears, that of the eight-legged, multi-eyed, hairy predator. The Hatching is not a book to be read for it’s elegant prose, it is a caricature driven horror story that dishes up a large serving of shivers and fun. Personally I hate spiders and reading about them made me itch all over, but as horror stories go this one was okay but I will take marks off because the ending was an absolute cliff-hanger. Will I continue with this trilogy? You know, I probably will.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Let's be clear here people. You are only going to want to read this book if you are looking for a gross, scary, end of the world story starring man eating spiders.
Check reality at the door and read for a fast moving terror ride. I enjoyed the hell out of this book. It delivered on the promise it made from the first few pages. It totally creeped me out and left me enthusiastically waiting for the next in the series. - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5This was an excellent book! I have had this book sitting on my kindle for the past year and a half and have no idea why I am just now reading it. It really is as good as I heard. Maybe better. It was one of those books that I didn't want to set aside because I always wanted to know what was going to happen next. I am just glad that I finally decided to read this book.This story was told a little differently. Each chapter focuses on a different character or set of characters. Readers do get to see these characters at various parts of the books and sometimes their stories overlap but the focus of this book stays on the spiders. Don't get me wrong, I did feel like I knew the key characters in this story by the end of the book. I really liked how each chapter was like another piece of an overall puzzle.So this book is about spiders but not your everyday run of the mill spider. This book is about killer spiders, lots of killer spiders. These are spiders unlike anything the world has ever seen. They can kill with remarkable speed and are driven to do so. When a nuclear bomb is detonated in China, officials initially believe it is an accident but they soon wonder if it was really in response to the spiders. I was amazed by how realistic everything in this book seemed. I am really not too worried about giants waves of man eating spiders but I thought that the reactions to an extreme emergency felt genuine. I thought that the government's response to the situation wasn't outside the realm of possibility if there was a threat on this kind of level. I liked how this book really let the reader into the heads of people on all sides of the situation.I would highly recommend this book. I think that this was an incredibly entertaining book with a whole lot of excitement. I am really excited to continue on with this series because I need to know what happens next.
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5I was intrigued by the description, "The world is on the brink of an apocalyptic disaster. An ancient species, long dormant, is now very much awake." The ancient species referred to are spiders. Personally I do not have acrophobia. I think tarantulas are cool. I prefer not to be bit by a spider or walk through one of their webs but they are not the stuff of my nightmares. I was expecting a horror novels with spiders. What I got was spiders as the horror, which I guess they are if you do not like spiders.
The premise involves a new species (or possibly more than one species) of spiders appearing all over the world within a few days. The first ones are in Peru and hitch a ride to the United States on a private jet. At the same time, they pour out of a mine in China in such quantity that the Chinese government drops a nuclear bomb on the area. Some of the Chinese spiders hitch a ride on a container ship and crash into Los Angeles. Most of these spiders are eating all warm blooded creatures in their path, leaving only bones behind. They are appearing is such quantities that they are described as waves of black masses overtaking everything.
The human characters in this book are less interesting than the spiders. The FBI agent, President, White House Chief of Staff and NIH arachnologist (studying the uses of spider venom in medicine) made no connection to me as the readers. They had few redeeming characteristics. The FBI agent was the most sympathetic but barely. The spiders appear and the main characters try to survive and find a solution to stopping the spider apocalypse. I found myself cheering for the spiders, which I do not think it what the author intended.
I love horror. I love the apocalypse genre. I love original stories, which admittedly this was. But it just really did not do it for me.
The ending of The Hatching leads me to believe it will be the first in a series. I will skip the rest of the series.
I received an advanced review copy of The Hatching from NetGalley in exchange for an honest review. - Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Okay,so I have to say I had a real problem with The Hatching by Ezekiel Boone. I mean, don't get me wrong, I liked it. It was entertaining, exciting, and, in places, positively creepy. But here's the thing, I like a good impending apocalypse as much as the next person -nuclear war, bring it on, an unstoppable disease or zombie infestation, count me in, but man-eating spiders... ah, hell no!3.5
- Rating: 3 out of 5 stars3/5Dormant for better than a thousand years, skittering spiders emerge to devour the humans and run rampant over the planet.Designed to play on readers’ arachnophobia, this creepy apocalyptic tale [think 1977's “Kingdom of the Spiders”] is classic horror of the “nature gone berserk” variety. The fast pace of the story will keep readers on the edge of their seats even as they glance around the room to make certain the carnivorous creepy-crawlies have not invaded . . . yet.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The creep factor in this book abounds. It deals with spiders and the horror and suspense builds slowly enough to hook you in and not let you go. I hate spiders, and of course hate them more now than ever. I was looking for something extra scary and this book hit the mark. The spiders are super icky and taking over several countries. I liked how the Nazca Lines in Peru were written in. I found myself researching those while reading the book. If you are looking for a super creepy, super scary read, this one definitely hits the mark. Not for the faint of heart.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Does the cover art of Ezekiel Boone's new novel, The Hatching, give you the creepy crawlies? All that spider web sticking to the letters.....even the title alone is creepy.No? Well, this might......"There are thirty-five thousand species of spiders, and they've been on earth for at least three hundred million years. From the very origin of humanity, spiders have been out there, scuttling along the edges of firelight, spinning webs in the woods, and scaring the hell out of us, even though with a few rare exceptions, they are no real threat. But these were something different."Peru. An ancient spider egg sac in a wooden box is discovered. It's shipped back to the US, already beginning to hatch. But it's not the only one......Okay, I don't mind spiders and I'm happy to move them outside without killing them. But...if they were bent on killing me? Skittering and moving faster than......oh, now my skin is crawling.....Having an everyday creature that we're accustomed to seeing (and squishing) seems even more horrifying than say, a creature from outer space. (Sharks, bears and birds also come to mind)I am a huge fan of 'cast' or ensemble novels with multiple characters. Boone excels at this in The Hatching. Each set of characters - from political, military, agents and scientists trying to understand and contain the spiders, to preppers in the Californian desert, and across the world to China, Afghanistan, India and Scotland - all bring wildly different points of view and pieces of the plot to The Hatching.The Hatching was a great, fun, squirmy read. A hugely entertaining read and it's got movie written all over it. I see that online the book is listed as The Hatching Series: Book One. The ending of this book left me thinking it was all over. But, I can see where the story could continue. This reader will be picking up Book Two for sure.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5A special thank you to NetGalley and Atria for an ARC in exchange for an honest review. Review to follow.
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5The Hatching is a great horror thriller that will leave you both exhilarated and terrified. It’s part Arachnophobia and part Independence Day. Movie analogies are apt for this book because the style is very cinematic. Lots of quick cuts from around the world and across the United States. From the jungles of Peru to the rural reaches of China. From Delhi, India to islands in Scotland and across the United States from Washington D.C. to Minneapolis to Los Angeles, Ezekiel Boone takes you on a wild ride that barely gives you time to catch your breath.Boone introduces a large cast of characters and given the number of characters, he does an excellent job of fleshing them out and humanizing them. There’s not enough time to give each of them a lot of history, but you get to feel like you know the main sets of characters and come to empathize with them.The real star of The Hatching is the spiders. An ancient species that is waking up and threatening a global apocalypse that the world is not prepared for and may not have a way of stopping. One of the most skillful things that Boone does is in the way he convinces you that this threat is real and that there truly may not be an adequate response to it. That may be the part that is most terrifying. He creates a threat that even if you see it’s coming, even if you know to be watching for it, you may have no way to stop it.Boone shows great skill in creating high tension situations both behind closed doors and out in open spaces. He has an ease with dialogue that makes his characters instantly relatable. Short chapters interspersed with some longer ones aid in keeping the action and pace in constant acceleration. The tension begins from the first page and while the action ramps up fairly quickly, the scale of the danger being faced rises throughout the book as the action becomes more and more explosive. The Hatching ends not so much with a resolution as with a pause in the action. There is more story to come and no one is out of the woods yet. Boone has created a blockbuster of a story that will have your fingers burning as you turn the pages. I can’t wait to see where this story goes next! Highly recommended.I was fortunate to receive an advance copy of this book.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5The book was pretty entertaining but the author created too many unnecessary perspectives that at times it made for an exhausting read. At times it made it difficult to remember all the various characters and the ending wasn't a good cut off , it was almost random. I can't deny some parts were great but other times it just felt like unnecessary filler.
- Rating: 5 out of 5 stars5/5Great book! Should be made into a movie. Flesh eating SPIDERS! Do I need to say anything else?
- Rating: 4 out of 5 stars4/5Good book. I’m excited to read the sequel , and I rarely read beyond the first book.
- Rating: 2 out of 5 stars2/5A ten-thousand-year-old egg sac has been found at the Nazca Lines and is sent to a laboratory in Washington, D.C. where it hatches and an ancient species of killer spiders emerge. Now the black, skittering mass is causing global pandemonium.
This book is told from multiple perspectives - people from all over the world where these giant, man-eating spiders are out of control. It quickly became boring reading about these people. I wanted the main characters to be the spiders but they play a minor role compared to these peoples' lives and how they're preparing for and dealing with the spiders. It was disappointing.
Book preview
The Hatching - Ezekiel Boone
PROLOGUE
Outside Manú National Park, Peru
The guide wanted to tell the group of Americans to shut up. Of course they weren’t seeing any animals: their constant complaining was driving them away. Only the birds remained, and even they seemed skittish. He was just a guide, however, so he said nothing.
There were five Americans. Three women and two men. The guide was interested in how they were paired off. It seemed unlikely that the fat man, Henderson, had all three women for himself. No matter how rich he was, shouldn’t two women at one time be enough? Perhaps the tall man had one? Perhaps not. As far as the guide could tell, the tall man was there to act as Henderson’s bodyguard and servant only. He and Henderson did not act like friends. The tall man carried the fat man’s water and snacks and did not let his eyes linger on any of the women. There was no question that he was in Henderson’s employ. As was the guide.
The guide sighed. He’d see how the women were portioned off at camp, he thought. In the meantime, he would do what he was paid for, which was lead them through the jungle and point out things that were supposed to impress them. Of course, they’d already done Machu Picchu, which always left tourists feeling as if they had seen everything Peru had to offer, and now there were no animals to show them. He glanced back at Henderson and decided it was time for another break. They’d had to stop every twenty minutes so that the rich man could run into the brush and move his bowels, and now the guide was worried Henderson might be overexerting himself.
It wasn’t that Henderson was grossly fat, but he was definitely large and clearly struggling to keep pace with the rest of the group. The tall man and the three women, though, were all in good shape. The women, in particular, all looked embarrassingly athletic and young, twenty or thirty years younger than Henderson. It was obvious the heat was getting to him. His face was red and he kept mopping at his forehead with a damp handkerchief. Henderson was older than the women, but looked too young for a heart attack. Still, the guide thought, it wouldn’t hurt to keep him well hydrated. After all, it had been made abundantly clear to the guide that if things went well, Henderson might be persuaded to make a sizable donation to the park and the scientists working there.
The day wasn’t any hotter than normal, but even though the group had come directly from Machu Picchu, they didn’t seem to understand that they were still at elevation. They weren’t actually inside Manú National Park, which they didn’t seem to understand either. The guide could have explained that they were technically allowed only in the larger biosphere area, and that the park itself was reserved for researchers, staff, and the indigenous Machiguenga, but all it would have done was disappoint them even more than they already were.
Any chance we’ll see a lion, Miggie?
one of the women asked him.
The woman next to her, who looked as if she had come from one of the magazines that the guide had kept under his bed when he was a teenager, before he’d had access to the Internet, swung off her backpack and dropped it on the ground. For God’s sake, Tina,
the woman said, shaking her head so that her hair swung around her face and her shoulders. The guide had trouble not staring down her scoop-neck shirt as she leaned over to unzip her bag and pull out a bottle of water. We’re in Peru, not Africa. You’re going to make Miggie think that Americans are idiots. There aren’t any lions in Peru. We could see a jaguar, though.
The guide had introduced himself as Miguel, but they had immediately taken to calling him Miggie, as if Miguel were just a suggestion. While he did not think all Americans were idiots—when he wasn’t leading expeditions of tourists on eco treks,
he often worked with the scientists inside the park, most of them from American universities—he was beginning to think that, despite the presence of Henderson, who was by all accounts a genius, this particular group seemed to have more idiots than normal. They were not going to see a lion, and no matter what the woman said, they weren’t going to see a jaguar, either. Miguel had been working here for the tour company for nearly three years, and even he’d never seen a jaguar. Not that he was truly an expert. He had been born and raised in Lima, and the only reason he was there, instead of back in the city of more than eight million, was a girl. They’d gone to university together, and when she landed a plum job as a research assistant, he managed to squirm his way into helping out inside the park occasionally. Recently, though, things hadn’t been going so well; his girlfriend had seemed distracted when they’d been together, and Miguel had begun to suspect that she’d started sleeping with one of her coworkers.
He watched the Americans take water or little bars wrapped in plastic out of their backpacks, and then he walked a few paces farther down the path. He glanced back and saw the lion woman, Tina, smiling at him in such a way that he wondered if maybe that night, when Henderson went into his tent, she might be available for him. He’d had chances with tourists before, though the opportunity presented itself less often than he would have expected, and he’d always turned them down. But maybe tonight, if Tina offered, he wouldn’t say no. If his girlfriend was cheating on him, the least he could do was return the favor. Tina kept smiling at him, and it made him nervous.
He was made more nervous by the jungle, however. The first few months after he’d left Lima to come here he’d hated it, but mostly he was used to the closeness of it by now. The constant buzz of insects, the movement, the heat, and the life that seemed everywhere. It had all become background noise eventually, and until today, it had been a long time since he’d been scared to be in the jungle. Today was different, though. The background noise was gone. It was unsettling how quiet it was aside from the nattering of the group behind him. They had been complaining about the lack of animals, and if he had been honest with them—and he hadn’t, because that was not what a guide was paid to be—he would have told the group that he was bothered by it as well. Usually they would have seen more animals than they could have asked for: sloths, capybara, brocket, monkeys. God, they loved the monkeys. The tourists could never get enough monkeys. And insects, of course. They were usually everywhere, and when all else failed to keep the tourists entertained, Miguel, who had never been scared of spiders, would often pick one up on the end of a branch and surprise one of the women in the group with it. He loved the way they shrieked when he brought it close for them to see, and the way the men tried to pretend as though the spider didn’t bother them.
Behind Tina, he saw Henderson bending over and grabbing at his gut. The man may have been very rich—Miguel had not recognized Henderson the man, though he had certainly heard of Henderson’s company; the researchers all did their work on Henderson Tech’s small silver computers—but he did not seem particularly special. He’d been complaining the entire morning. He complained about the roads, about the lack of access to the Internet at the lodge, about the food. Ah, the food. He complained and complained about the food, and as Miguel saw Henderson bent over and making a face, it appeared that at least as far as the food was concerned, Henderson might have had a point.
You okay, boss?
The bodyguard was ignoring the three women, who were still arguing with one another about where it was exactly that lions lived.
My gut is killing me,
Henderson said. That meat from last night. I’ve got to take a shit. Again.
He looked up at Miguel, and the guide motioned with his thumb for Henderson to head off the path.
Miguel watched him disappear into the trees and then turned to look ahead again. The tour company kept the path well enough maintained that it was easy to move tourists along when there wasn’t somebody like Henderson who needed to keep stopping. They’d bulldozed a strip and then tasked the guides with staying on the path so that nobody would get lost. As with any other human encroachment in the rain forest, the jungle was trying to reclaim the trail, so the company ran the machine out every few weeks. For the most part, the path made Miguel’s work much easier. He could look ahead and see clear to where they would be going for close to a hundred meters. It also meant there was a break in the canopy, and when he looked up he could see the blue sky. There wasn’t a cloud anywhere, and for a moment Miguel wished he were on a beach instead of leading this group of Americans.
A bird flew over the breach in the canopy. The guide watched it for a second and was about to turn back to the group to see if Henderson had made it back from his bathroom break when he realized something was wrong with the bird. It was flapping its wings frantically, moving erratically. The bird was struggling to stay in the air. But there was something more. The guide wished he had a pair of binoculars, because the bird’s feathers looked wrong. They looked like they were rippling, like there was—
The bird fell from the sky. It stopped struggling and simply plummeted.
Miguel shivered. The women were still chattering behind him, but there were no other animal sounds in the jungle. Even the birds were quiet. He listened more closely, and then he heard something. A rhythmic pounding. Leaves crunching. He’d just about figured out what it was when a man burst around the bend in the path. Even from a hundred meters away, it was clear something was wrong. The man saw Miguel and screamed at him, but Miguel couldn’t make out the words. Then the man glanced at the path behind him, and as he did so, he tripped, falling heavily.
It looked to Miguel like a black river rushed up behind him. The man had only managed to get to his knees before the dark mass rolled over and around him.
Miguel took a few steps backward, but he found that he didn’t want to turn away. The black river stayed on top of the man, roiling and building, as if it were dammed by something. There was a lumpy movement, the man underneath still struggling. And then the lump collapsed. The black water splashed out to cover the path. From where Miguel was standing, it looked like the man had simply disappeared.
And then the blackness started streaming toward him, covering the path and moving quickly, almost as fast as a man could run. Miguel knew he should be running, but there was something hypnotic in the quietness of the water. It didn’t roar like a river. If anything, it seemed to absorb sound. All he could hear was a whisper, a skittering, like a small patter of rain. The way the river moved was beautiful in its own way, pulsing and, at certain points, splitting and braiding into separate streams before rejoining a few paces later. As it got closer, Miguel took another step back, but by the time he realized it wasn’t actually a river, that it wasn’t water of any kind, it was too late.
Minneapolis, Minnesota
Agent Mike Rich hated having to call his ex-wife. He fucking hated it, particularly when he knew that her husband—and he fucking hated that he was her husband now—might pick up the phone, but there was nothing he could do about it. He was going to be late, and if there was one thing that annoyed his ex-wife more than his being late to pick up their daughter, it was when he knew he was going to be late but didn’t call. Hell, if he’d been better about both those things in the first place, Fanny might still be his wife. He stared at his phone.
Just get it over with, Mike.
His partner, Leshaun DeMilo, was divorced himself, but didn’t have any kids to show for it. Leshaun always said he’d made a clean break of it. Not that he seemed to particularly enjoy being single again. He’d been going about dating with a grim determination. Mike also thought Leshaun had been hitting the bars a little hard recently, and had come into work looking rough around the edges more than once since the divorce.
You know the longer you wait the worse it’s going to be,
Leshaun said.
Fuck you, Leshaun,
Mike said, but he thumbed his phone on and hit his ex-wife’s number. Of course, her husband answered.
I assume you’re calling to say you’re going to be late again?
You got me, Dawson,
Mike said.
I prefer to be called Rich, Mike. You know that.
Yeah, sorry. It’s just that, you know, when I hear Rich, I think me. Agent Rich. All that. It’s weird calling you by my last name. How about Richard?
As long as you aren’t calling me Dick—at least to my face—I’ll live.
That was another thing that pissed Mike off about his ex-wife’s new husband. Rich Dawson was a defense lawyer—which was reason enough—but he was also kind of a great guy. If Dawson hadn’t gotten rich keeping the very douche bags out of jail that Mike spent his time arresting, and if Dawson weren’t laying the wood to his ex-wife, Mike could have seen himself having a beer with the guy. It would have been easier if Dawson were just an unrepentant shitbag, because then Mike would have had an excuse to hate him, but Mike was stuck with knowing he had nobody to be pissed off at but himself. Mike couldn’t decide if he should look on the bright side of things because Dawson was terrific with Annie, or if that was something that made his ex-wife’s new husband even worse. It killed Mike that his daughter had taken to Dawson like she had, but it had been good for her. She’d been quiet for the year or so between when he and Fanny had split and when Fanny had hooked up with Dawson. She hadn’t been sad, or at least hadn’t admitted she was, but she hadn’t talked much. In the year and a half since Dawson had come into the picture, however, Annie had seemed like herself again.
Just let me talk to Fanny, okay?
Sure.
Mike shifted in his seat. He never complained about having to sit in the car for hours on end, the stale coffee, the thick, fetid smell of socks and sweat that filled the car when they had to bake in the sun. The temperature was in the mid-eighties. Unseasonably warm for Minneapolis in April. There were years that he remembered snow still on the ground on April 23. Except for in the dead of summer, mid-eighties was hot for Minneapolis. He and Leshaun used to keep the car running and blast the air-conditioning—or, in the Minnesota winters, the heat—but Mike’s daughter had been turned into one of those young environmental crusaders by her elementary school. She’d made both him and Leshaun promise not to leave the engine running if they were just sitting there. Left to himself, Mike probably would have caved and turned on the AC, but Leshaun wouldn’t let him. A promise is a promise, dude, particularly to your kid,
Leshaun had said, and then he’d even bought reusable metal coffee cups for them to keep in the car. At least he hadn’t gone so far as to make Mike wash and reuse the piss bottle on the days they were on surveillance but weren’t parked close enough to a McDonald’s or a Starbucks to hit a bathroom. They didn’t actually run surveillance that much anymore. Days like this, though, when they did, were something Mike sort of missed. It was supposed to be part of the gig. There was a certain romance to the sitting and waiting. And waiting. And waiting. But his back was killing him today. They’d been in the car for nine hours already, and he’d spent the day before at the YMCA with Annie, swimming and throwing her in the air and chasing after her. At nine, Annie was getting to be a load, but what was he going to do? Not roughhouse in the pool?
He arched his back and stretched a little, trying to get comfortable. Leshaun held up a bottle of Advil, but Mike shook his head. His stomach had been bothering him, too—coffee and donuts and greasy burgers and fries and all the crap that made it harder and harder every day for him to stay in shape and run the miles and do the pull-ups he needed to do to keep passing his physical—and popping a couple of pills to help his back seemed like a bad idea. Fuck, Mike thought. He was only forty-three. Too young to be getting old already.
How late, Mike?
Fanny came on the line already swinging for the fences.
Mike closed his eyes and tried to take a cleansing breath. That’s what his therapist had called it. A cleansing breath. When he opened his eyes, Leshaun was staring at him. Leshaun raised an eyebrow and mouthed Apologize.
I’m sorry, Fanny. I’m really sorry. We’re on surveillance and relief is running late. It will just be half an hour. Forty-five minutes at most.
You’re supposed to be taking her to soccer, Mike. Now I have to do it.
Mike took another cleansing breath. I don’t know what else to say, Fanny. I’m really sorry. I’ll meet you at the field.
He wanted to be there. There was something about the smell of the cut grass and watching his little girl run around chasing a ball. The crappy wooden bleachers reminded him of what it was like to be a kid, of looking over to the sideline at baseball or football games and seeing his own dad sitting there, watching solemnly. Seeing Annie goofing around with the other kids, or scowling and concentrating while trying to learn a step over or some other new skill, was one of the best parts of his week. He never thought about his job or his ex-wife or anything, really. It was a different world out there on the soccer field: the sounds of the kids yelling and the coaches’ whistles all functioned like a reset button. Most of the other parents chatted with one another, read books, tried to get work done, talked on their cell phones, but Mike just watched. That’s it. He watched Annie run and kick and laugh and for that hour of soccer practice, there was nowhere else in the world for him.
"Of course I can take her, but that’s not the point. The point is that you’re still doing it. I mean, I can leave you. I can get a divorce. But she’s stuck with you, Mike. As much as she loves Rich, you’re her father."
Mike glanced over at Leshaun, but his partner was ostentatiously not listening. Leshaun was doing what he was supposed to be doing, which was staring at the alley. There wasn’t much chance that the prick they were waiting for, Two-Two O’Leary, was going to show up, but given that he used as much of the meth as he sold, and had wounded an agent in a bust gone bad the week before, it probably wasn’t the worst thing in the world to have one of them paying attention.
All I can do is keep apologizing.
He glanced at Leshaun again and decided he didn’t care if Leshaun was listening or not. It wasn’t like they hadn’t talked about his relationship with Fanny—or Leshaun and Leshaun’s ex-wife’s relationship—more than he had ever talked about it with his therapist, or, for that matter, with Fanny. Maybe if he’d talked about things with Fanny as much as he had with Leshaun, things would still be okay. You know I’m sorry. About everything. I’m sorry about everything. Not just being late.
Mike waited for Fanny to say something, but there was only silence. He went on. "I’ve been talking with my therapist about it, and I know that I’m late saying this. I mean, I guess I’m late with everything, but I’m trying to say I should have told you I was sorry a long time ago. I didn’t mean to let things fall apart, and even though I’m not really happy about it, I am happy that you’re happy. And you know, Dawson—Rich—seems like he makes you happy, and I know that Annie loves him. So, you know, I’m sorry. I’m doing my best to be a different kind of guy, a better man, but there’s always going to be a part of me that’s just the way I am. And that goes for the job too."
Mike.
Fanny’s voice seemed faint, and Mike shifted again. He couldn’t tell if it was his shitty phone cutting out or if she was talking more softly. Mike,
she repeated. There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.
What? You going to divorce me again?
Leshaun straightened and then leaned a little bit out the open window. Mike sat up in his seat. There was a car pulling into the alley. A Honda, which wasn’t really Two-Two’s ride of choice, but it was the first action they’d seen for a while. The car stopped with its trunk hanging over the sidewalk, and then a black teenager, maybe fifteen or sixteen, got out of the passenger-side door. Mike relaxed, and Leshaun sat back. Two-Two was selling guns and meth, but he was also big time in with the Aryan Nations. There wasn’t much chance he was rolling with a black kid.
I want to change Annie’s name,
Fanny said.
What?
I want her to have the same last name as me, Mike.
Just a second.
Mike put the phone down on his thigh and rubbed his face with his free hand. He wished he still smoked, though it wasn’t as if Leshaun would have let him light up in the car. The car. The goddamned car felt so close and hot. With his bulletproof vest over his T-shirt, he was sweating. Couldn’t they run the engine just for a few minutes, have a little fucking air-conditioning? He needed to stand outside for a minute, to stand up, to get some fresh air. He opened the door. He needed a blast of cold air like they had in those gum commercials, but it wasn’t any cooler outside the car.
Mike?
Leshaun was looking at him. What are you doing?
Nothing man. I’m not going anywhere. I’m just going to stand outside, okay? I just want to take this call outside the car for a minute. Is that okay with you? Do you mind?
He realized his voice had gotten loud and hard, and he knew that when he was done talking to Fanny he was going to have to apologize to Leshaun. Leshaun was a good partner, a good friend, and he’d understand, but still, it made Mike feel like an asshole. Like more of an asshole. Leshaun nodded, and Mike got out of the car. He shut the door behind him, not that it mattered with the windows open.
He lifted the phone back up. What are you talking about, Fanny?
Come on, Mike. You had to see this coming. Didn’t you see this coming?
No, Fanny, I didn’t see this coming.
Oh, Mike. You never see anything coming.
He heard the brush of the phone against Fanny’s cheek and then the low murmur of her saying something to Dawson. He pressed the phone hard against his ear. You’re not changing Annie’s name. She’s my fucking daughter, and she’s going to be Annie Rich, not Annie fucking Dawson.
Mike,
she said. Annie’s my daughter too. It’s weird, having her have a different last name from me.
You didn’t have to change your name to Dawson,
Mike said. Even as he said it, he knew it was the wrong thing to say, but he couldn’t help himself.
Fanny sighed. We can talk about this later, but it’s going to happen. I’m sorry, Mike, I am, but things have changed.
I’m trying to change too,
Mike said.
I appreciate that. I do,
she said, and then neither of them said anything for a few seconds. Mike could hear Fanny breathing. Finally, she said, Do you want to talk to Annie?
Please,
he said. He felt defeated.
Mike leaned against the car, facing the alley. He shifted against the side of the car, rolled his shoulder, and tugged down on his T-shirt under the vest. It was wet with sweat. Better to be uncomfortable than dead, though. The agent Two-Two had shot in Eau Claire probably would have died if he hadn’t been wearing body armor: three shots stopped by body armor, one bullet clean through the agent’s biceps. It was a hundred miles from Eau Claire back to Minnesota, though, and hell, nobody thought Two-Two—even hopped up on Nazi meth—was going to come back to his bar after the debacle in Wisconsin. He adjusted the strapping to loosen the vest. Normally he had a shirt over it, but when they were just going to sit in a car all day, he figured there wasn’t much point trying to hide it. And of course, it’s not like he wasn’t wearing his badge hanging off the chain around his neck. He loved being able to wear it, loved the way people looked at him differently when he introduced himself as Special Agent Rich, but as he fingered the chain, he thought that there were times when it felt like something he needed to take off more often.
Hey, Daddy.
Hey, beautiful. I’m going to have to meet you at the field, okay?
Okay.
How was school?
Good.
Anything exciting happen?
Not really.
That’s what talking with her on the phone was like. When they were together, he couldn’t get Annie to stop talking, but there was something about the invisibility of talking to each other over the telephone that made it so she rarely said more than a couple of words at a time. It was like she thought there was some sort of evil magic at work, and if she told the telephone too much information, it was going to steal her soul. The thought made Mike smile. It sounded like a book Stephen King would write.
He was about to ask her what she’d had for lunch when he saw the car. It was a red Ford truck, big tires, tinted windows, and it was turning into the alley. Beautiful, I’ve got to go.
Okay. I love you, Daddy.
I love you too, baby.
He felt his stomach churning. He let his free hand reach up again to finger the badge hanging around his neck. I love you so, so much. You remember that, okay? No matter what happens, you remember that.
The truck stopped. Mike put the phone in his pocket. He felt the car move as Leshaun opened the door and slid out. Mike moved his hand from his badge to his hip, until he could wrap his fingers around the handle of his gun. The metal was cool against his hand. He took a moment to look over his shoulder for Leshaun. His partner was starting to stand up straight, and Mike looked back toward the red truck. He realized too late that Two-Two had already seen him standing outside the car,