Devil (Johnstone)

Black Wilder has waited a long, long time to come Whitfield. But he is no stranger to patience. A Year, ten years, a hundred years. Time has no meaning for him. He just waits until the moment is right and then emerges-silently and unmercifully. As night falls heavily on the small prairie town, red-rimmed eyes look out from tightly shut windows. An occasional snarl rips from once-human throats. Shadows play on dimly-lit streets, deepening the gloom of the alleys, bringing with the darkness and almost tangible aura of fear. For the time is now right in Whitfield. The Beasts are hungry, the Undead are awake, the putrid stench of evil hangs in the air---and the inhabitants of Whitfield are about to be touched by . . .

Something funny's going on in Louisiana's backwoods . . . Someone in LaGrange has stirred up something truly evil. From beyond, demonic messengers emerge out of the fires of Hell itself, to ignite an orgy of chaos, murder, and bloody destruction. But the Devil was the only one laughing . . . Town veterinarian Link Donovan (former CIA) and Sheriff Ray Ingalls have grave premonitions that the ungodly laughter they heard echoing through the woods meant this was only the beginning. Once they root out the rich folk whose meddling released the minions of Satan, they recruit a band of God-fearing locals like themselves ready to battle-and obliterate-whatever face of evil dares to cross their paths.

It came in the dead of night-a rhythmic creaking sound that only the children could hear. Jackie and Johnny tried not to listen. But it called to them, whispering of evil, luring them into the darkness of the attic. With its brightly colored saddle and painted-on eyes, it was the most beautiful rocking horse Jackie and Johnny had ever seen. But as they took turns riding it, they didn't see its tail twitch or its lips curve into a terrifying grin. They couldn't hear the faint whicker that echoed among the shadows. They couldn't know that their own innocent eyes had taken on a strange new gleam . . .

The Root Of Evil The ominous Rumblings of thunder-dark thunder, was how retired head of police Al Watt thought of it-had started thirty years before on the night that Sand was killed. A good man, that Sand, and when he died, the forces of darkness had taken root in Willowdale, Colorado. Now the isolated little town, nestled in the Rockies, was about to give birth to an evil beyond imagining...a reign of terror so insatiable that Al Watt could do nothing to stop it. Child Prodigy Something bad was going to happen. Eleven-year-old Howie Ingram could feel it in his bones. Of course no one ever listened to Howie Ingram, the twerp. All they did was make fun of him for being so smart he was already high school and college courses. Howie tried not to care. Except now he really needed someone to listen to him when he told them about the townspeople turning into zombies and the strange noises coming in over the sir waves. And the distant sound of thunder. He and his computer didn't stand much of a chance, alone, against a force as powerful and primitive as Satan himself...

THE HUNTED The idea sounded like such fun to Susan Benning. Camping on the pristine mountains of Idaho with her old high school gang right after their thirty-year reunion. Even the kids were looking forward to it. But something felt wrong the deeper they traveled into the woods. Something was watching them from behind the thick undergrowth. Waiting... THE HUNTERS Their race had lived among the Great Trees in peace for centuries. The "others" came to kill animals with strange weapons and poison their sacred waters with the things they carelessly left behind. But they would soon learn to stay away. The Old Hunger would teach them. Especially the little ones.