Eyes of Darkness

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Authors: Dean Koontz

BOOK: Eyes of Darkness
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Table of Contents
 
 
 
 
 
The acclaimed bestsellers by Dean Koontz
THE EYES OF DARKNESS
“Koontz puts his readers through the emotional wringer.” -The Associated Press
THE KEY TO MIDNIGHT
“An exceptional novelist ... top-notch.”
—Lincoln Journal-Star
 
MR. MURDER
“A truly harrowing tale ... superb work by a master at the top of his form.”
—The Washington Post Book World
 
THE FUNHOUSE
“Koontz is a terrific what-if storyteller.” —People
DRAGON TEARS
“A razor-sharp, nonstop, suspenseful story ... a first-rate literary experience.”
—The
San
Diego Union-Tribune
 
SHADOWFIRES
“His prose mesmerizes ... Koontz consistently hits the bull’s-eye.” —Arkansas Democrat-Gazette
HIDEAWAY
“Not just a thriller but a meditation on the nature of good and evil.” —
Lexington Herald-Leader
COLD FIRE
“An extraordinary piece of fiction ... It will be a classic.” —UPI
THE HOUSE OF THUNDER
“Koontz is brilliant.” —
Chicago Sun-Times
 
THE VOICE OF THE NIGHT
“A fearsome tour of an adolescent’s psyche. Terrifying, knee-knocking suspense.”

Chicago Sun-Times
 
THE BAD PLACE
“A new experience in breathless terror.” —UPI
 
THE SERVANTS OF TWILIGHT
“A great storyteller.” —New York Daily News
 
MIDNIGHT
“A triumph.” —The New York Times
 
LIGHTNING
“Brilliant ... a spine-tingling tale ... both challenging and entertaining.” —The Associated Press
 
THE MASK
“Koontz hones his fearful yarns to a gleaming edge.” —People
 
WATCHERS
“A breakthrough for Koontz ... his best ever.”
—Kirkus Reviews
 
TWILIGHT EYES
“A spine-chilling adventure ...will keep you turning pages to the very end.” —Rave Reviews
STRANGERS
“A unique spellbinder that captures the reader on the first page. Exciting, enjoyable, and an intensely satisfying read.” —Mary Higgins Clark
 
PHANTOMS
“First-rate suspense, scary, and stylish.”

Los
Angeles Times
 
WHISPERS
“Pulls out all the stops ... an incredible, terrifying tale.” —
Publishers
Weekly
 
NIGHT CHILLS
“Will send chills down your back.”

The New
York Times
 
DARKFALL
“A fast-paced tale ... one of the scariest chase scenes ever.” —
The Houston Post
 
SHATTERED
“A chilling tale ... sleek as a bullet.”

Publishers
Weekly
 
THE VISION
“Spine-tingling—it gives you an almost lethal shock.” —
San Francisco Chronicle
 
THE FACE OF FEAR
“Real suspense ... tension upon tension.”

The New York Times
Berkley titles by Dean Koontz
THE EYES OF DARKNESS
 
THE KEY TO MIDNIGHT
 
MR. MURDER
 
THE FUNHOUSE
 
DRAGON TEARS
 
SHADOWFIRES
 
HIDEAWAY
 
COLD FIRE
 
THE HOUSE OF THUNDER
 
THE VOICE OF THE NIGHT
 
THE BAD PLACE
 
THE SERVANTS OF TWILIGHT
 
MIDNIGHT
 
LIGHTNING
 
THE MASK
 
WATCHERS
 
TWILIGHT EYES
 
STRANGERS
 
DEMON SEED
 
PHANTOMS
 
WHISPERS
 
NIGHT CHILLS
 
DARKFALL
 
SHATTERED
 
THE VISION
 
THE FACE OF FEAR
THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP
Published by the Penguin Group
Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA
Penguin Group (Canada), 10 Alcom Avenue, Toronto, Ontario M4V 3B2, Canada
(a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)
Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England
Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)
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(a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)
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Penguin Group (NZ), Cnr. Airborne and Rosedale Roads, Albany, Auckland 1310, New Zealand
(a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)
Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196,
South Africa
 
Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R ORL, England
 
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
 
Originally published under the pseudonym Leigh Nichols.
 
THE EYES OF DARKNESS
 
A Berkley Book/ published by arrangement with Nkui, Inc.
 
PRINTING HISTORY
 
Pocket Books edition / February 1981
Berkley edition / July 1996
 
Copyright © 1981 by Leigh Nichols. Copyright © 1996 by Nkui, Inc.
Author photo copyright © 1993 by Jerry Bauer.
 
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form
without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in
violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
 
ISBN: 978-1-4406-1949-6
 
BERKLEY®
Berkley Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,
a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,
375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.
BERKLEY is a registered trademark of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
The “B” design is a trademark belonging to Penguin Group (USA) Inc.
 
PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
 
 
30 29 28 27 26 25 24 23
 
If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as “unsold and destroyed” to the publisher, and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this “stripped book.”

http://us.penguingroup.com

This better version is for Gerda,
with love.
After five years of work,
now that I’m nearly finished improving
these early novels first published under pen names,
I intend to start improving myself.
Considering all that needs to be done,
this new project will henceforth be known
as the
hundred-
year plan.
T
UESDAY,
D
ECEMBER
30
1
AT SIX MINUTES PAST MIDNIGHT, TUESDAY MORNING, on the way home from a late rehearsal of her new stage show, Tina Evans saw her son, Danny, in a stranger’s car. But Danny had been dead more than a year.
Two blocks from her house, intending to buy a quart of milk and a loaf of whole-wheat bread, Tina stopped at a twenty-four-hour market and parked in the dry yellow drizzle of a sodium-vapor light, beside a gleaming, cream-colored Chevrolet station wagon. The boy was in the front passenger seat of the wagon, waiting for someone in the store. Tina could see only the side of his face, but she gasped in painful recognition.
Danny
.
The boy was about twelve, Danny’s age. He had thick dark hair like Danny’s, a nose that resembled Danny’s, and a rather delicate jawline like Danny’s too.
She whispered her son’s name, as if she would frighten off this beloved apparition if she spoke any louder.
Unaware that she was staring at him, the boy put one hand to his mouth and bit gently on his bent thumb knuckle, which Danny had begun to do a year or so before he died. Without success, Tina had tried to break him of that bad habit.
Now, as she watched this boy, his resemblance to Danny seemed to be more than mere coincidence. Suddenly Tina’s mouth went dry and sour, and her heart thudded. She still had not adjusted to the loss of her only child, because she’d never wanted — or tried — to adjust to it. Seizing on this boy’s resemblance to her Danny, she was too easily able to fantasize that there had been no loss in the first place.
Maybe . . . maybe this boy actually
was
Danny. Why not? The more that she considered it, the less crazy it seemed. After all, she’d never seen Danny’s corpse. The police and the morticians had advised her that Danny was so badly torn up, so horribly mangled, that she was better off not looking at him. Sickened, grief-stricken, she had taken their advice, and Danny’s funeral had been a closed-coffin service. But perhaps they’d been mistaken when they identified the body. Maybe Danny hadn’t been killed in the accident, after all. Maybe he’d only suffered a mild head injury, just severe enough to give him . . . amnesia. Yes. Amnesia. Perhaps he had wandered away from the wrecked bus and had been found miles from the scene of the accident, without identification, unable to tell anyone who he was or where he came from. That was possible, wasn’t it? She had seen similar stories in the movies. Sure. Amnesia. And if that were the case, then he might have ended up in a foster home, in a new life. And now here he was sitting in the cream-colored Chevrolet wagon, brought to her by fate and by —
The boy became conscious of her gaze and turned toward her. She held her breath as his face came slowly around. As they stared at each other through two windows and through the strange sulphurous light, she had the feeling that they were making contact across an immense gulf of space and time and destiny. But then, inevitably, her fantasy burst, for he wasn’t Danny.

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