Harvest was in full swing when the ground opened up. They should have come in spring, like every seventeen years. They came in September - dog-sized, red-eyed, and carnivorous. When the first dusk falls over Calder County, Della Vance understands what no one wanted to hear: the brood hunts by sound and heat, and nothing in all of Missouri will stop it. Nothing but the cold. A hard front is three nights out. Until then, they hold - a handful of townsfolk, a girl on a radio, a father who won't leave his land, and a man who knew, and said nothing. *Kill the engines. Cut the lights. And pray for winter.*
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