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307 pages, Paperback
First published August 21, 2012
And the base emotion underlying it all that was getting harder and harder to ignore.
Terror.
The strengthening sense that something was very, very wrong.
"Just before the top, one of the holds broke loose and he nearly lost his balance.
Caught himself before he fell.
He could feel the wind streaming across the opening to the chute.
Glimpsed something catching sunlight straight above.
Froze.
Looked down.
He’d almost blown the chance to save himself.
With the monster fifteen feet away and two more trailing close behind it in the chute, Ethan reached down, the loose handhold that had nearly killed him just within reach.
He tore the chunk of rock from its housing, hoisted it over his head.
It was a handful, even bigger than he’d thought—two pounds of quartz-laced granite.
He wedged himself between the rock, took aim, and let it fly.
It struck the creature dead center of its face just as it was reaching for a new handhold.
Its grip failed.
It plunged down the chute.
Talons scraping rock.
Its velocity too great to self-arrest."
"Are you losing your mind?
I sometimes think I'm still in that torture room. I never left.
Are you losing your mind?
You tell me.
I can't.
Why?
Because I am you."
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