PREVIEW

... ung lange vor dem Erscheinen der ersten Bestie gespürt, nicht in Geräusch oder Anblick, sondern im Druck – jener Art, die sich unter deine Haut setzt und deinen Atem ohne Nachfrage verlangsamt. Der Wind hatte kurz zuvor aufgehört.

Der Boden war still geworden, nicht leise, sondern wartend. Ein kaltes Summen lief durch seine Stiefel, zu schwach, um es zu beschreiben, aber unmöglich zu ignorieren.

Als die erste Bestie aus dem Unterholz hervorsprang, zuckte er daher nicht zusammen. ...

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