Prologue One Month Before Halloween This Year I have wrought great use out of evil tools. Edward George Earle Lytton Bulwe-​Lytton, first Baron Lytton, Richelieu Every evil in the bud is easily crushed; as it grows older, it becomes stronger. Cicero, Philippicoe I got to keep moving, I got to keep moving Blues falling down like hail, blues falling down like hail Mmm, blues falling down like hail, blues falling down like hail And the day keeps on remindin’ me, there’s a hellhound on my trail Hellhound on my trail, hellhound on my trail. Robert Johnson, “Hellhound on My Trail” 1 The last thing Billy said was, “Oh, come on…there’s nothing out there.” And then two sets of bone-​white hands arched over the slat rails on the wagon and seized him by the shoulders and the collar and dragged him screaming into the darkness. He tried to fight them, but they had him and as he rasped along the rail, feet flailing and hands scrabbling for some desperate purchase, other white figures closed in and he was dragged away. Claire screamed at the top of her lungs. Everyone else screamed too. Even the guy driving the tractor screamed. Billy screamed louder than all of them. Claire launched herself forward from the hay bale on which she’d been sitting