Outskirts Press, INC.

A TALE OF TRAGEDY AND REDEMPTION, SAVAGERY AND LOVE

There'd never been a policeman killed in the line of duty here. It was a small town in the Midwest, for God's sake. Cassie closed her eyes and made a silent wish: Please don't let anyone else die tonight.



In the heart of America's breadbasket "where life moves at a slower pace and love feels as sure as the seasons" a series of attacks on police and firemen shock the inhabitants of Mt. Vista.



The violence begins with a vicious attack on two young women in Chicago, revealing a dark family secret. Then a horrendous storm and a crime of opportunity plunge Mt. Vista Officer Dillon Stone into an eerie battle of wits with a madman.



Murder. Vengeance. Two generations. A killer is on the loose and Dillon has precious little time to solve a mystery spanning decades. But can he do it from the other side of the grave? He must find a way. His lover's life, the town he is sworn to protect, and millions of dollars are on the line.

. . . The river began white-capping as two- to four-foot waves sloshed over the sides of the boat.

And they were still a couple of hundred yards from land.

Dillon knew his friends must be as miserable as he was, soaked to the bone, hands cold and stiff. This drop in temperature was a formidable foe, one the men had few tools to battle and little time to outrun.

"We're taking on more water!" Jason wailed, unable to hide the fear in his voice.

"Grab your can coolers, towels, cups, anything you can find and start bailing," Dillon shouted. *

. . . Five minutes later, the hail stopped. The raging, churning wind, rain, and waves shifted, repositioned - changed. The seething river had begun to boil. It was as if a manic episode waited just around the bend - or was it hiding up there? All four men raised their soggy, shivering faces to the clouds to see what could be happening now.

What they saw stopped them in mid-breath: Dropping out of the sky just ahead was the tail of a black funnel-shaped cloud. In the split-second they saw it, it began twirling with a surreal ferocity, gathering debris, tree parts, birds. Anything it could devour. The sound of the tempest they'd been battling couldn't compare to the high-pitched scream of the monster that was heading for them now.

Each in their own way, the men continued struggling to operate as a team, but Dillon figured it would be only minutes before they'd lose the battle for the boat and be fighting just to stay alive.

And then there was no more time for thought; the ogre gobbled them up. The world was black, cold, wet, and brutal. The men were pummeled with debris they couldn't even see. The boat began rising up out of the water and spinning, tipping, spiraling out of control.

Dillon jerked in automatic response as an unseen force lifted him from the seat of the bucking, twisting vessel while another tore the life-vest from his chest with a ripping sound. He flailed about, grabbing for anything within his reach.