Whitley’s Strieber’s breathtaking thriller is coming to TV: Hunters—an original Syfy series—is executive produced by Gale Anne Hurd (The Walking Dead) and Natalie Chaidez (12 Monkeys) and premieres in April 2016.
When police investigator Flynn Carroll’s wife disappears, he discovers that someone is abducting people and then framing the abductees as runaways. While Flynn's case files grow, Special Agent Diana Glass, a member of the most secret police unit on the planet, surreptitiously watches him work. Her agents are investigating the same enigmatic abductions and she wants Flynn on her team. Will Flynn’s desperate search for his wife come up empty? Or will it expose a conspiracy that reveals the most dangerous terrorists of all may not even be of this world?
At the Publisher's request, this title is being sold without Digital Rights Management Software (DRM) applied.
Release date:
August 13, 2013
Publisher:
Tom Doherty Associates
Print pages:
400
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The air was cold and thick, smelling of mold and wet cardboard. His eyes were good in darkness, but not this good, so he put on the infrared glasses he had designed himself, cutting the lenses from a couple of Hoya RM9s. Then he pulled out his infrared illuminator and methodically swept his surroundings. A sodden mass of cardboard boxes appeared like a distant mountain range. Closer, he saw a jumble of ruined bicycles. Behind them were rows of dead Christmas poinsettias in plastic pots, also dry aquariums.
There used to be light manufacturing here in Menard, little factories that used wetback labor to make cheap goods that would be sent out to California on the railroad. No more.
Debris was what he had expected. It was what he did not see that was troubling him. The sense of abandonment had changed. Now, he felt the presence of watchers. So far, he hadn't spotted them, but he knew that this was only because he hadn't looked in the right place.
With a movement as smooth and natural as taking a breath, he slipped his gun into his hand. Out of habit, he'd brought his Glock. Should have taken the Magnum instead. He was off duty and officially on leave, so it had been his choice.
"Hello," he said. "My name is Flynn Carroll. You asked me to come here."
Then he knew that somebody was behind him. It wasn't a hunch this time, or an instinct. He'd heard the whisper that jeans make when they rub against each other.
Sucking in breath, then slowly releasing it, he went deep into himself, blanking his chattering mind by concentrating his attention on the sound. In another moment, he was going to need to move very, very fast. He would have one chance only.
Another sound came, this time off to his right. So there were at least two of them, and they were maneuvering to place him in crossfire.
"Let's stop this right now," he said aloud. His words were followed by a silence. Were they surprised? He thought not. He thought that they were very far from surprised, because he could see a third one off to his left, a figure that was more slight than the other two. Could be Diana. "Look, I'm gonna end up using this thing if somebody doesn't show themselves real soon."
Outside, the wind shook the thousand window panes and made the tin roof jump and rattle. The massive late season blizzard that was bringing the arctic to the Montanas was now also plunging southward into Texas.
"Flynn, listen carefully."
Diana's voice filled the room, a whisper from everywhere.
"Everything is good, Flynn. We're all friends here. We just need to be very, very careful. This is all routine safe practice in this unit."
"You'll get used to it," a male voice drawled.
A hand came down on his shoulder—and he took the guy down with a standing grapple, a simple jujitsu maneuver for which his assailant was, to Flynn’s surprise, entirely unprepared.
The guy he'd taken down got up. His face was hard to see in the darkness, but Flynn sensed a scowl of rage.
"Sorry," he said.
All he could see of the eyes were shadowy sockets, but he could feel the anger.
"Flynn," Diana said, "Please give Captain Larsen your pistol."
"No."
"Flynn, you’ve come in here heavily geared and with a drawn weapon. Of course we’re being careful. Now, calm down. Give him the gun.”
Flynn thought about it. He didn’t move.
“We need to fly before dawn. We have a long way to go and time is of the essence. If you want to help prevent another disappearance and maybe stop this perp, now's your chance."
"I don’t like total strangers coming up on me in dark rooms."
"This is a special unit, Flynn. We're operating under our own set of protocols. We've set up an orientation for you downstairs." She turned on the lights.
He lost his night vision equipment. Nobody else was showing a pistol, so he put his away. But he did not give it up.
“Thank you,” she said.
At the far end of the space there was an old iron spiral staircase that had probably been ordered from the Sears Catalog a hundred years ago. He followed the rest of them down, and found himself in a space that was just as dark as the floor above had been, but felt smaller. Not for long, though. A match flickered as Diana Glass lit a gasoline lantern—and hung it on the barrel of some kind of old tank. The thing wasn't in US livery and it was dusty, but it looked like it had never been driven.
"The Korean War," she said, waving a dismissive hand toward it. “They were on their way to San Diego when the conflict ended. Great shielding if you worry about listening devices.”
"Which you do?"
"That would be correct. Flynn, first off, I want you to understand that there are many things that make this unit special. The first of these is that we're all just the same as you. We all have a missing loved one."
"None of 'em walked out," a male voice said. "My Cindy did not walk out."
"Louie Lander, LAPD,” Diana said. “Just like you, just like the rest of us, he's done a hell of a job on a lot of missing persons cases."
Louie Lander had a tight-to-the-skull faces and a hard, sad smile. "Just like me," Flynn thought, "I smile like that."
"Can you explain this security, because is the most unusual damn unit I've ever come across."
"Flynn," Diana replied, "we’re dealing with the most unusual damn thing that's ever happened."
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