Book description
The house looked right, felt right, to Dr Louis Creed.
Rambling, old, unsmart and comfortable. A place where the family
could settle; the children grow and play and explore. The rolling
hills and meadows of Maine seemed a world away from the fume-choked
dangers of Chicago.
Only the occasional big truck out on the two-lane highway, grinding
up through the gears, hammering down the long gradients, growled out
an intrusive threat.
But behind the house and far away from the road: that was safe. Just
a carefully cleared path up into the woods where generations of local
children have processed with the solemn innocence of the young, taking
with them their dear departed pets for burial.
A sad place maybe, but safe. Surely a safe place. Not a place to seep
into your dreams, to wake you, sweating with fear and foreboding…
