CA Fletcher’s second novel starts slow, filling you in on the location and the characters while an undercurrent of uneasiness is lightly sketched in in the background. That undercurrent swells and rises like a tide, until it bursts its banks and everything goes very bad very quickly. On its own terms this is a decent horror novel, and would have made a great 80s John Carpenter movie. My twinge of disappointment is that the author’s previous book is one of my favourite genre novels of recent years, and this one isn’t at that level. You’ll still have fun with it, but please read A Boy And His Dog At The End Of The World as well!