At first the police thought they were dealing with a psychopath or a vicious gangland war. Then, they heard the eerie sounds in the ventilation system and saw the silver eyes in the night. In a city paralyzed by a blizzard, something watches–something whose ultimate victims are young and innocent.
Wednesday, December 8, 1:12 A.M.
Penny Dawson woke and heard something moving furtively in the dark bedroom.
At first she thought she was hearing a sound left over from her dream.
She had been dreaming about horses and about going for long rides in the country, and it had been the most wonderful, special, thrilling dream she’d ever had in all of her eleven-and-a-half dream-filled years. When she began to wake up, she struggled against consciousness, tried to hold on to sleep and prevent the lovely fantasy from fading. But she heard an odd sound, and it scared her. She told herself it was only a horse sound or just the rustle of straw in the stable in her dream. Nothing to be alarmed about. But she couldn’t convince herself; she couldn’t tie the strange Knead to her dream and she woke up all the way.
The peculiar noise was coming from the other side of the room, from Davey’s bed. But it wasn’t ordinary, middle-of-the-night, seven-year-old-boy, pizza-and-icecream-for-dinner noise. It was a sneaky sound. Definitely sneaky.
