Borrowed from my mom’s bookshelf while we were in Texas. The first chapter openly acknowledges a debt to M. Night Shyamalan, Stephen King and Stephen Spielberg. I most clearly saw echoes of Signs, there’s a flavor of Close Encounters and I don’t know King well enough to pick up on the influence, though I can see it in the creepy horrors that haunt the darker corners of the book. This book is full of T. S. Eliot as well, one of my favorite poets. That was fun.
I read it in a day, the kind of book I wouldn’t want to read when home by myself; but fine on a warm sunny day sitting in my parents’ backyard. Thought provoking, like most of Koontz’s books, the lines between good and evil are always very clear. Or should be if you are paying attention.
But the twist at the end put everything that came before into a different perspective. A Shyamalan twist. That’s there’s a twist is not really giving too much away since I saw early on that something had to give or else there was no way the book was going to wrap up satisfactorily. And it did. Sort of. Except that as I think things through further I’m disquieted. I want to write about that but it will necessitate major spoilers. So if you might read the book, read no further. SPOILERS AHEAD.