Title Page

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Dedication

For Rebecca,
Who can summon the storm,
but prefers to command the sun.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I am deeply indebted to Paul Stevens at the Donald Maass Literary Agency, for his calm and steady guidance. To the entire staff at St. Martin’s Press, especially my brilliant editor, Peter Wolverton, who knew he wanted a sequel from the very beginning. My additional thanks to the talented Jennifer Donovan, Joe Brosnan, Sarah Bonamino, Hannah O’Grady, Sophia Dembling, Norma Hoffman, and Niko Eickelbeck.

To Lauren Szurgot with the William Morris Agency, who shares the vision.

I cannot express my gratitude enough to the bookstore owners and staff, the book clubs, and my family and friends who embraced these novels. And to the writers who’ve offered support along the way, especially Michael Koryta, J. T. Ellison, and Hank Phillippi Ryan, I am forever thankful.

To Kathleen and Steve Morris, family who are our closest friends. Thank you for bringing Peter and Nick into the world so I could write about redheads.

To Michael Morris, for the fact-checking.

To Todd Wrubel, for helping to develop a character that proves there is good even in the most notorious of troublemakers.

To Todd Doughty, an extraordinary publicist and an even better friend.

To my brother Jason Finley, for your edits and extensive knowledge of aliens.

To my daughters Eve and Charlotte. You make me proud to be your father.

And to my wife, Rebecca, whose grace, kindness, grit, beauty, intelligence, and love proves in the story of my life, the hero is a woman.

PROLOGUE

The monster in the mountain was awake.

Even outside, under stars drowning in a dark North Dakota sky, the little girl felt it stir. She waited to see if it would come for her; steal through the dark and drag her back.

Standing in the dust from her escape, she felt it move within the stone and become still.

A mournful hooting interrupted the silence. The girl looked away from the towering stone to stare across the vast emptiness illuminated by a shy moon peeking out just enough to reveal land formations in the distance, thick and blocky. She wanted to run to them, and whatever lay beyond, and never stop.

Instead, she slowly turned back to the mountain, knowing what she left behind. It hurt so badly, she felt she might die on the spot.

But she was only nine years old, and she wanted to live.