Hideaway

Dean R. Koontz Hideaway

Liner Notes

In his most profoundly felt — and terrifying — novel yet, Dean Koontz compels us to explore the meaning of death, the nature of sociopathic evil, and the transcendent power of love.

“An extraordinary piece of fiction, with unforgettable characters… unique, spellbinding, with depth, sensitivity and personality. It will be a classic,” United Press International said about Cold Fire, the author's most recent New York Times number-one best-seller. Hideaway has the breathless pace, suspense, lyrical prose, deeply drawn characters, and surprises that readers have come to expect in a Koontz novel — yet it is entirely fresh, breaking new ground for the author and taking the reader into the beating heart of darkness.

Although accident victim Hatch Harrison dies en route to the hospital, a brilliant physician miraculously resuscitates him. Given this second chance, Hatch and his wife, Lindsey, approach each day with a new appreciation for the beauty of life — until a series of mysterious and frightening events brings them face to face with the unknown. Although Hatch was given no glimpse of an Afterlife during the period when his heart was stopped, he has reason to fear that he has brought a terrible Presence back with him from the land of the dead.

When people who have wronged the Harrisons begin to die violently, Hatch comes to doubt his own innocence — and must confront the possibility that this life is just a prelude to another, darker place. He and Lindsey are forced to fight not only for their own survival but for that of Regina, the delightful and exceptional disabled child who has given meaning and purpose to their lives. With growing desperation, Lindsey and Hatch seek the truth along a twisted trail that leads eventually to an abandoned amusement park — and a confrontation with purest evil.

Emotionally affecting and powerfully suspenseful, Hideaway may be Dean Koontz's finest work to date.

Dean R. Koontz—the author of many best-sellers — won an Atlantic Monthly fiction competition when he was twenty and has been writing ever since. He lives in southern California.

Dedication

TO GERDA.

FOREVER.

Epigraph

O, WHAT MAY MAN WITHIN HIM HIDE,

THOUGH ANGEL ON THE OUTWARD SIDE!

— William Shakespeare

Part I JUST SECONDS FROM A CLEAN GETAWAY

Life is a gift that must be given back,

and joy should arise from its possession.

It's too damned short, and that's a fact.

Hard to accept, this earthly procession

to final darkness is a journey done,

circle completed, work of art sublime,

a sweet melodic rhyme, a battle won.

— THE BOOK OF COUNTED SORROWS

ONE

1

An entire world hummed and bustled beyond the dark ramparts of the mountains, yet to Lindsey Harrison the night seemed empty, as hollow as the vacant chambers of a cold, dead heart. Shivering, she slumped deeper in the passenger seat of the Honda.

Serried ranks of ancient evergreens receded up the slopes that flanked the highway, parting occasionally to accommodate sparse stands of winter-stripped maples and birches that poked at the sky with jagged black branches. However, that vast forest and the formidable rock formations to which it clung did not reduce the emptiness of the bitter March night. As the Honda descended the winding blacktop, the trees and stony outcrop- pings seemed to float past as if they were only dream images without real substance.

Harried by fierce wind, fine dry snow slanted through the headlight beams. But the storm could not fill the void, either.

The emptiness that Lindsey perceived was internal, not external. The night was brimming, as ever, with the chaos of creation. Her own soul was the only hollow thing.

She glanced at Hatch. He was leaning forward, hunched slightly over the steering wheel, peering ahead with an expression which might be flat and inscrutable to anyone else but which, after twelve years of marriage, Lindsey could easily read. An excellent driver, Hatch was not daunted by poor road conditions. His thoughts, like hers, were no doubt on the long weekend they had just spent at Big Bear Lake.

Yet again they had tried to recapture the easiness with each other that they had once known. And again they had failed.

The chains of the past still bound them.

The death of a five-year-old son had incalculable emotional weight. It pressed on the mind, quickly deflating every moment of buoyancy, crushing each new blossom of joy. Jimmy had been dead for more than four and a half