Night Chills
Table of Contents
Chapter 1 - Saturday, August 13, 1977
Chapter 2 - Thirty-one Months Earlier: Friday, January 10, 1975
Chapter 3 - Saturday, August 13, 1977
Chapter 4 - Twenty-eight Months Earlier: Saturday, April 12, 1975
Chapter 5 - Friday, August 19, 1977
Chapter 6 - Fourteen Months Earlier: Thursday, June 10, 1976
Chapter 7 - Monday, August 22, 1977
Chapter 8 - Eight Months Earlier: Saturday, December 18, 1976
Chapter 9 - Friday, August 26, 1977
Chapter 10 - Sixteen Days Earlier: Wednesday, August 10, 1977
Chapter 11 - Friday, August 26, 1977
Chapter 1 - Friday, August 26, 1977
Chapter 10 - Saturday, August 27, 1977
THE EYES OF DARKNESS
“Koontz puts his readers through the emotional wringer!”—The Associated Press
THE KEY TO MIDNIGHT
“A master storyteller ... always riveting.”
—
The San Diego Union-Tribune
MR. MURDER
“A truly harrowing tale ... superb work by a master at the top of his form.”
—
The Washington Post Book World
THE FUNHOUSE
“Koontz is a terrific what-if storyteller.”
—People
DRAGON TEARS
“A razor-sharp, nonstop, suspenseful story ... a first-rate literary experience.”
—
The San Diego Union-Tribune
SHADOWFIRES
“His prose mesmerizes ... Koontz consistently hits the bull’s-eye.”
—Arkansas
Democrat
HIDEAWAY
“Not just a thriller but a meditation on the nature of good and evil.”
—Lexington Herald-Leader
COLD FIRE
“An extraordinary piece of fiction ... It will be a classic.”—UPI
THE HOUSE OF THUNDER
“Koontz is brilliant.”—
Chicago Sun-Times
THE VOICE OF THE NIGHT
“A fearsome tour of an adolescent’s psyche. Terrifying, knee-knocking suspense.”
—
Chicago Sun-Times
THE BAD PLACE
“A new experience in breathless terror.”
—
UPI
THE SERVANTS OF TWILIGHT
“A great storyteller.”
—New York Daily News
MIDNIGHT
“A triumph.”
—The New York Times
LIGHTNING
“Brilliant ... a spine-tingling tale ... both challenging and entertaining.”—The Associated Press
THE MASK
“Koontz hones his fearful yarns to a gleaming edge.”
—People
WATCHERS
“A breakthrough for Koontz ... his best ever.”
—
Kirkus Reviews
TWILIGHT EYES
“A spine-chilling adventure ... will keep you turning pages to the very end.”
—Rave Reviews
STRANGERS
“A unique spellbinder that captures the reader on the first page. Exciting, enjoyable, and an intensely satisfying read.”—Mary Higgins Clark
DEMON SEED
“One of our finest and most versatile suspense writers.” —
Macon Telegraph & News
PHANTOMS
“First-rate suspense, scary and stylish.”
—
Los Angeles Times
WHISPERS
“Pulls out all the stops ... an incredible, terrifying tale.”
—Publishers Weekly
NIGHT CHILLS
“Will send chills down your back.”
—
The New York Times
DARKFALL
“A fast-paced tale ... one of the scariest chase scenes ever.”
—Houston Post
SHATTERED
“A chilling tale ... sleek as a bullet.”
—
Publishers Weekly
THE VISION
“Spine-tingling—it gives you an almost lethal shock.”—
San Franciso Chronicle
THE FACE OF FEAR
“Real suspense ... tension upon tension.”
—
The New York Times
Berkley titles by Dean Koontz
THE EYES OF DARKNESS
THE KEY TO MIDNIGHT
MR. MURDER
THE FUNHOUSE
DRAGON TEARS
SHADOWFIRES
HIDEAWAY
COLD FIRE
THE HOUSE OF THUNDER
THE VOICE OF THE NIGHT
THE BAD PLACE
THE SERVANTS OF TWILIGHT
MIDNIGHT
LIGHTNING
THE MASK
WATCHERS
TWILIGHT EYES
STRANGERS
DEMON SEED
PHANTOMS
WHISPERS
NIGHT CHILLS
DARKFALL
SHATTERED
THE VISION
THE FACE OF FEAR
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
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.
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Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
NIGHT CHILLS
A Berkley Book / published by arrangement with the author
PRINTING HISTORY
Atheneum edition published 1976
W.H. Allen & Co. edition published 1977
Berkley edition / March 1983
Copyright © 1976 by Nkui, Inc.
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
eISBN : 978-0-425-09864-6
BERKLEY®
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a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
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For Gerda
Author’s Introduction
By the time they have finished this book, many readers will be uneasy, frightened, perhaps even horrified. Once entertained, however, they will be tempted to dismiss Night Chills as quickly as they might a novel about demonic possession or reincarnation. Although this story is intended primarily to be a “good read,” I cannot stress strongly enough that the basic subject matter is more than merely a fantasy of mine; it is a reality and already a major influence on all our lives.
Subliminal and subaudial advertising, carefully planned manipulation of our subconscious minds, became a serious threat to individual privacy and freedom at least as long ago as 1957. In that year Mr. James Vicary gave a public demonstration of the tachistoscope, a machine for flashing messages on a motion picture screen so fast that they can be read only by the subconscious mind. As discussed in chapter two of this book, the tachistoscope has been replaced, for the most part, by more sophisticated—and shocking—devices and processes. The science of behavior modification, as achieved through the use of subliminal advertising, is coming into a Golden Age of technological breakthroughs and advancements in theory.
Particularly sensitive readers will be dismayed to learn that even such details as the infinity transmitter (chapter ten) are not figments of the author’s imagination. Robert Farr, the noted electronic security expert, discusses wiretapping with infinity transmitters in his
The Electronic Criminals,
as noted in the reference list at the end of this novel.
The drug that plays a central role in
Night Chills
is a novelist’s device. It does not exist. It is the only piece of the scientific background that I have allowed myself to create from whole cloth. Countless behavioral researchers have conceived of it. Therefore, when I say that it does not exist, perhaps I should add one cautionary word—
yet
.
Those who are studying and shaping the future of subliminal advertising will say that they have no intention of creating a society of obedient robots, that such a goal would be in violation of their personal moral codes. However, as have thousands of other scientists in this century of change, they will surely learn that their concepts of right and wrong will not restrict the ways in which more ruthless men will use their discoveries.
D.R.K.
Saturday, August 6, 1977
The dirt trail was narrow. Drooping boughs of tamarack, spruce, and pine scraped the roof and brushed the side windows of the Land Rover.
“Stop here,” Rossner said tensely.
Holbrook was driving. He was a big, stern-faced man in his early thirties. He gripped the wheel so tightly that his knuckles were bloodless. He braked, pulled the Rover to the right, and coasted in among the trees. He switched off the headlamps and turned on a dash light.
“Check your gun,” Rossner said.
Each man wore a shoulder holster and carried a SIG-Petter, the finest automatic pistol in the world. They pulled the magazines, checked for a full complement of bullets, slammed the magazines back into the butts, and holstered the guns. Their movements seemed to be choreographed, as if they had practiced this a thousand times.
They got out and walked to the back of the car.
At three o’clock in the morning, the Maine woods were ominously dark and still.
Holbrook lowered the tailgate. A light winked on inside the Rover. He threw aside a tarpaulin, revealing two pairs of rubber hip boots, two flashlights, and other equipment.
Rossner was shorter, slimmer, and quicker than Holbrook. He got his boots on first. Then he dragged the last two pieces of their gear from the car.
The main component of each device was a pressurized tank much like an aqualung cylinder, complete with shoulder straps and chest belt. A hose led from the tank to a stainless-steel, pin-spray nozzle.
They helped each other into the straps, made certain their shoulder holsters were accessible, and paced a bit to get accustomed to the weight on their backs.
At 3:10 Rossner took a compass from his pocket, studied it in his flashlight beam, put it away, and moved off into the forest.
Holbrook followed, surprisingly quiet for such a large man.
The land rose rather steeply. They had to stop twice in the next half hour to rest.
At 3:40 they came within sight of the Big Union sawmill. Three hundred yards to their right, a complex of two- and three-story clapboard and cinder-block buildings rose out of the trees. Lights glowed at all the windows, and arc lamps bathed the fenced storage yard in fuzzy purplish-white light. Within the huge main building, giant saws stuttered and whined continuously. Logs and cut planks toppled from conveyor belts and boomed when they landed in metal bins.
Rossner and Holbrook circled around the mill to avoid being seen. They reached the top of the ridge at four o’clock.
They had no difficulty locating the man-made lake. One end of it shimmered in the wan moonlight, and the other end was shadowed by a higher ridge that rose behind it. It was a neat oval, three hundred yards long and two hundred yards wide, fed by a gushing spring. It served as the reservoir for both the Big Union mill and the small town of Black River that lay three miles away in the valley.
