{"product_id":"the-hunger-isbn-9780735212534","title":"The Hunger","description":"\u003cb\u003e\"Deeply, deeply disturbing, hard to put down, not recommended reading after dark.\" --Stephen King\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eA tense and gripping reimagining of one of America's most haunting human disasters: the Donner Party with a supernatural twist.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eEvil is invisible, and it is everywhere. \u003c\/i\u003eThat is the only way to explain the series of misfortunes that have plagued the wagon train known as the Donner Party. Depleted rations, bitter quarrels, and the mysterious death of a little boy have driven the isolated travelers to the brink of madness. Though they dream of what awaits them in the West, long-buried secrets begin to emerge, and dissent among them escalates to the point of murder and chaos, unknowingly propelling them into one of the deadliest and most disastrous Western adventures in American history. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAs members of the group begin to disappear, the survivors start to wonder if there really is something disturbing, and hungry, waiting for them in the mountains...and whether the evil that has unfolded around them may have in fact been growing within them all along. Effortlessly combining the supernatural and the historical, \u003ci\u003eThe Hunger\u003c\/i\u003e is an eerie, thrilling look at the volatility of human nature, pushed to its breaking point.\u003cb\u003e\u003cb\u003eAn NPR Best Horror Novel\u003cbr\u003e A \u003ci\u003eSuspense Magazine\u003c\/i\u003e Best Book of the Year \u003cbr\u003e Winner of the Western Heritage Award\u003cbr\u003e Finalist for the Bram Stoker Award\u003cbr\u003e Finalist for the Locus Award \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAnd one of...\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eThe New York Times\u003c\/i\u003e's 50 States, 50 Scares  Picks \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eO, The Oprah Magazine\u003c\/i\u003e's Scariest Books of All Time\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eWomen's Republic\u003c\/i\u003e's Ten Horror Books by Women to Read This October\u003cbr\u003eTODAY.com's 13 Scary Books, From Classics to Modern Fiction, to Read for Halloween \u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eAARP Magazine\u003c\/i\u003e's 20 Scary Books for Grownups\u003c\/b\u003e \u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eForbes'\u003c\/i\u003es The Five Best Horror Books of 2018-2019\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eVulture\u003c\/i\u003e’s 13 Great Horror Books Written by Women\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eRefinery29\u003c\/i\u003e's 20 Terrifying Books for When You've Already Read All The Spooky Season Classics \u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBookRiot\u003c\/i\u003e's 15 Favorite Historical Thrillers\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eBookRiot\u003c\/i\u003e's 9 Great Camping Horror Books\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eBookRiot's Best Horror Books of the Decade\u003cbr\u003eThe Observer\u003c\/i\u003e's Best Books of 2018\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003eInsideHook\u003c\/i\u003e's New Wester Canon Selections\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eMental Floss’\u003c\/i\u003e 13 Essential Horror Novels From The Last Five Years\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eGoodreads’\u003c\/i\u003e The Most Popular Horror Novels of the Past Five Years\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eShondaland\u003c\/i\u003e’s 16 Spine-Tingling Reads for Halloween\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eMen’s Health\u003c\/i\u003e’s      Best Horror Books\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Supernatural suspense at its finest...It is strangely ethereal, yet gritty...But the best thing about \u003ci\u003eThe Hunger\u003c\/i\u003e is that it will scare the pants off you....Enjoy the journey, one so entertaining that you almost don't mind feeling queasy at dinner.” \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e—The New York Times Book Review\u003c\/i\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Not only will Alma Katsu's acclaimed novel haunt you, it will give you empathy for the people forced to undergo such horrors.\" \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e—O, The Oprah Magazine\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Katsu shows an acute understanding of human nature.…[She] is at her best when she forces her readers to stare at the almost unimaginable meeting of ordinary people and extraordinary desperation, using her sharp, haunting language.”\u003cb\u003e —\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eUSA Today\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A reimagining of the ill-fated Donner Party but with an eerie supernatural twist.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eNew York Post\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“The Donner Party will never not be fascinating, and Alma Katsu’s \u003ci\u003eThe Hunger\u003c\/i\u003e somehow makes the man-eating story all the more enticing.”\u003ci\u003e \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e–BookRiot\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"Equal parts unputdownable and must-put-it-down-or-I-am-going-to-have-a-heart-attack...You travel into this book and there is no escape. Katsu is an exceptionally gifted writer and the dread-soaked pages are with me every day as both a writer and a scaredy cat.” \u003cb\u003e—Caroline Kepnes for \u003ci\u003eTODAY.com\u003c\/i\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Combines meticulous historical research and a keen understanding of human nature with a monstrous original metaphor to reimagine the ill-fated Donner-Reed party as a haunted endeavor, doomed from its first mile.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eSalon\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\"\u003ci\u003eThe Hunger\u003c\/i\u003e is full of foreboding and humanity.\" \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eRefinery29\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eThe Hunger\u003c\/i\u003e is being described as ‘the Donner Party with a supernatural twist,’ and it sure delivers on the spooky premise.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eBustle\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“[\u003ci\u003eThe Hunger\u003c\/i\u003e] is as rich in history as it is disturbing.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eVulture\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Katsu retells the haunting story of the Donner Party—shining a light on the darkest parts of human nature while incorporating a chilling supernatural element.\" \u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003e—AARP\u003c\/b\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Much like Dan Simmons's \u003ci\u003eThe Terror\u003c\/i\u003e, Alma Katsu's accomplished, engrossing novel weaves a cocoon of supernatural horror around historical tragedy....The atmosphere of doom becomes as thick as the snow that eventually halts the pioneers' progress. It's a beautifully intense read.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Financial Times\u003c\/i\u003e (UK)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“\u003ci\u003eThe Hunger \u003c\/i\u003eby Alma Katsu takes the tragic tale of the Donner Party and infuses it with hints of witchcraft, vampirism, lycanthropy, cannibalism and zombiism in a tale that is fated to become the latest Donner Party-inspired horror movie.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eTrue West Magazine\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"Katsu grips and tormets readers with an eerie, well-researched facsimile of 19th-century America, vivid imagery of the harsh pioneering life, and the gnawing suggestion that malevolence, and not merely bad luck, may have shaped the Donner Party's fate.\" \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e—Matador Network \u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\"In the case of \u003ci\u003eThe Hunger\u003c\/i\u003e, inspired by the travails of the Donner Party, Alma Katsu blends evocative images of the American West with unnerving scenes of the supernatural, making for a uniquely gripping read.\" \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eInsideHook\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Katsu injects the supernatural into this brilliant retelling of the ill-fated Donner Party....Fans of Dan Simmons’s \u003ci\u003eThe Terror \u003c\/i\u003ewill find familiar and welcome chills.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly \u003c\/i\u003e(starred review)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“For fans of historical fiction and the supernatural, Katsu’s goosebumpy and spooky plot makes for an original and surprising read.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eLibrary Journal \u003c\/i\u003e(starred review)\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A suspenseful and imaginative take on a famous tragedy.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“An inventive reimagining...Westward migration, murder, sensation: the story of the Donner Party has all this....Katsu creates a riveting drama of power struggles and shifting alliances....The tensions [she] creates are thrilling.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eKirkus Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Grips readers from the opening paragraphs and doesn’t let go. Full of richly drawn and fascinatingly flawed characters, this is a story that is respectful of the history it relates, but doesn’t shy away from the sins, mistakes and bigotry of the past, to impressive effect.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eRT Book Reviews\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“The isolation is anxiety-inducing and the tension is perfect....Well-written and gripping with a strong conclusion, \u003ci\u003eThe Hunger\u003c\/i\u003e is an inventive take on an already morbidly fascinating historical event. Recommended.”\u003cb\u003e —\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eHistorical Novel Society\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“Escalating terror and excitement, leading to an ending that's beyond unsettling... Katsu does a remarkable job of transforming a true story into a hard-to-put-down work of fiction.... Unique, literary and entertaining.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eThe Oklahoman\u003c\/i\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Take the already gruesome Donner Party story, add a wagonload of frightening supernatural elements, and you have the ingredients that animate this chilling novel….A compulsively addictive retooling of historical fact.” \u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eBrandeis Magazine\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003c\/i\u003e \u003cbr\u003e “An unsettling and slow-burning tale that combines history and the supernatural that sure to please anyone with interest in either.” \u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003e—\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cb\u003eSF Reader\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e“It's a testament to Katsu's skill as a writer that she creates characters so compelling that we can't help hoping they will escape the fate we knew was hurtling toward them the moment we opened the book. She ends the novel with an image of sacrifice and an image of reconciliation, each of them powerful and affecting. They give the book a melancholy resonance. It's a fine novel.” \u003cb\u003e—\u003ci\u003eLocus Magazine\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003ci\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Author Alma Katsu is one of the genre’s new stars, and her reimagining of the Donner Party tragedy is one reason why.” —\u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003eMental Floss\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Katsu dangles the grisliest elements of the story just out of reach. . . . For those who appreciate authenticity and great character work, it’s a piece of historical horror that takes exactly the route it should.” \u003cb\u003e\u003ci\u003e–Esquire\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Alma Katsu has taken one of the darkest and most chilling episodes in our history, and made the story even darker, even more terrifying. I swear I'm still shuddering. A fantastic read!” \u003cb\u003e—R.L. Stine, author of the Goosebumps and Fear Street series\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Like \u003ci\u003eThe Revenant\u003c\/i\u003e but with an insistent supernatural whisper\u003ci\u003e. \u003c\/i\u003eThe setting and the story are utterly chilling. And the telling of it is so well done.” \u003cb\u003e—Sarah Pinborough, author of \u003ci\u003eBehind Her Eyes\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“\u003ci\u003eThe Hunger\u003c\/i\u003e is a terrific historical novel with a thrilling, bloody twist. Alma Katsu’s brilliant reimagining of the Donner party’s fate is rich with character, laden with imminent doom, and propelled by chilling mystery. A novel that book clubs and dark fiction fans should devour with equal relish.” \u003cb\u003e—Christopher Golden, author of \u003ci\u003eArarat\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eSnowblind\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“If you think the story of the Donner Party can’t get more horrific, think again.  In this gripping, atmospheric reimagining of that dark tale, Katsu has created a deeply unsettling and truly terrifying masterpiece.” \u003cb\u003e—Jennifer McMahon, author of \u003ci\u003eBurntown\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe Winter People\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “An uneasy, nauseous, slow-burning tale that marries historical fiction with a hint of the supernatural. Great detailing; colorful characterization; some supremely ominous stuff, but always reined in at the final moment to rack up the tension even more. Loved it!” \u003cb\u003e—Joanne Harris, author of \u003ci\u003eDifferent Class\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eChocolat\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “\u003ci\u003eThe Hunger \u003c\/i\u003eis a bold and brilliant novel, heavy with foreboding and dread, and with a rich vein of humanity at its core. I challenge you to read it without experiencing your own hunger pangs.” \u003cb\u003e—Tim Lebbon, author of \u003ci\u003eRelics\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe Silence\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“In an audacious twist, Alma Katsu has made something new and suspenseful from the legendary story of the Donner Party. \u003ci\u003eThe Hunger\u003c\/i\u003e is filled with terror, pity, and grue.” \u003cb\u003e—Keith Donohue, author of \u003ci\u003eThe Boy Who Drew Monsters\u003c\/i\u003e and \u003ci\u003eThe Stolen Child\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cb\u003eAlma Katsu\u003c\/b\u003e is the author of \u003ci\u003eThe Hunger, The Taker\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eThe Reckoning\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eThe Descent\u003c\/i\u003e. She has been a signature reviewer for \u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly \u003c\/i\u003eand a contributor to \u003ci\u003eThe Huffington Post\u003c\/i\u003e. She is a graduate of the master's writing program at the Johns Hopkins University and received her bachelor's degree from Brandeis University. Prior to the publication of her first novel, Katsu had a long career as a senior intelligence analyst for several U.S. agencies and is currently a senior analyst for a think tank. She lives outside of Washington, D.C., with her husband.To Charles Stanton, there was nothing like a good, close shave.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He stood that morning in front of the big mirror strapped to the      side of James Reed's wagon. In every direction, the prairie      unfurled like a blanket, occasionally rippled by wind: mile after      uninterrupted mile of buffalo grass, disrupted only by the red      spire of Chimney Rock, standing like a sentry in the distance. If      he squinted, the wagon train looked like children's toys scattered      in the vast, unending brush-flimsy, meaningless, inconsequential.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e He turned to the mirror and steadied the blade under his jaw,      remembering one of his grandfather's favorite expressions: A      wicked man hides behind a beard, like Lucifer. Stanton knew plenty      of men who were happy enough with a well-honed knife, even some      who used a hatchet, but for him nothing would do but a straight      razor. He didn't shrink from the feel of cold metal against his      throat. In fact, he kind of liked it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I didn't think you were a vain man, Charles Stanton\"-a voice came      from behind him-\"but if I didn't know any better, I might wonder      if you weren't admiring yourself.\" Edwin Bryant came toward him      with a tin cup of coffee in his hand. The smile faded quickly.      \"You're bleeding.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Stanton looked down at the razor. It was streaked with red. In the      mirror he saw a line of crimson at his throat, a gaping three-inch      slash where the tip of his blade had been. The razor was so sharp      that he hadn't felt a thing. Stanton jerked the towel from his      shoulder and pressed it to the wound. \"My hand must have slipped,\"      he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Sit down,\" Bryant said. \"Let me take a look at it. I have a      little medical training, you know.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Stanton sidestepped Bryant's outstretched hand. \"I'm fine. It's      nothing. A mishap.\" That was this damnable journey, in a nutshell.      One unexpected \"mishap\" after another.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bryant shrugged. \"If you say so. Wolves can smell blood from two      miles away.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"What can I do for you?\" Stanton asked. He knew that Bryant hadn't      come down the wagon train just to talk, not when they were      supposed to be yoking up. Around them, the regular morning chaos      whirled. Teamsters herded the oxen, the ground rumbling beneath      the animals' weight. Men dismantled their tents and loaded them      into their wagons, or smothered out fires beneath sand. The air      was filled with the sound of children shouting as they carried      buckets of water for the day's drinking and washing.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Stanton and Bryant hadn't known each other long but had quickly      developed a friendship. The party Stanton had been traveling with      prior-a small wagon train out of Illinois, consisting mostly of      the Donner and Reed families-had recently joined up with a much      larger group led by a retired military man, William Russell,      outside Independence, Missouri. Edwin Bryant had been one of the      first members from the Russell party to introduce himself and      seemed to gravitate to Stanton, perhaps because they were both      single men in a wagon train full of families.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e In appearance, Edwin Bryant was Stanton's opposite. Stanton was      tall, strong without trying to be. He had been complimented on his      good looks his entire life. It had all come from his mother, as      far as he could tell. He had her thick, wavy dark brown hair and      soulful eyes.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Thy looks are a gift from the devil, boy, so you might tempt      others to sin. Another of his grandfather's pronouncements. Once      he'd smashed Stanton's face with a belt buckle, maybe hoping to      chase out the devil he saw there. It hadn't worked. Stanton had      kept all his teeth, and his nose had healed. The scar on his      forehead had faded. The devil, as far as he knew, had stayed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bryant was probably a decade older. Years as a newspaperman had      left him softer than most of the men on the journey, who were      farmers or carpenters or blacksmiths, men who made a living      through hard physical labor. He had weak eyes and needed a pair of      spectacles almost constantly. He had a perpetually disheveled air,      as though his thoughts were always elsewhere. There was no denying      that he was sharp, though, probably the smartest man in the party.      He'd admitted to having spent a few years as a doctor's apprentice      when he was very young, though he didn't want to be pressed into      service as the camp physician.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Take a look at this.\" Bryant kicked a tuft of vegetation at their      feet, sending up a puff of dust. \"Have you noticed? The grass is      dry for this time of year.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e They had been traveling on a flat plain for days now, the horizon      a long stretch of tall prairie grass and scrub. Flanking the trail      on either side in the distance, sand hills of gold and coral rose      and fell, some craggy as fingers, pointing directly to heaven.      Stanton crouched low and pulled a few strands of grass. The blades      were short, no more than nine or ten inches long, and were already      faded to a dull brownish-green. \"Looks like there was a drought      not too long ago,\" Stanton said. He stood, smacking the dirt off      his palms, looking toward the far-off hazy purple scrim. The land      seemed to stretch on forever.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"And we're just entering the plain,\" Bryant pointed out.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e His meaning was clear: There might not be enough grass for their      oxen and livestock to eat. Grass, water, wood: the three things a      wagon train needed. \"Conditions are worse than we thought they'd      be, and we've got a long way to go. See that mountain range off in      the distance? That's just the beginning, Charles. There are more      mountains behind those-and desert and prairie, and rivers wider      and deeper than any we've crossed so far. All between us and the      Pacific Ocean.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Stanton had heard this litany before. Bryant had said little else      ever since they had come across the trapper's shack at Ash Hollow      two days ago. The empty shack had been turned into a frontier      outpost of sorts for the pioneers crossing the plains, who had      taken to leaving letters behind for the next eastbound traveler to      carry to a real post office for delivery onward. Many of these      letters were simply folded pieces of paper left under a rock in      the hope that they would eventually reach the intended recipient      back home.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Stanton had been strangely comforted by the sight of all those      letters. They had seemed a testament to the travelers' love of      freedom and desire for greater opportunity, no matter the risk.      But Bryant had gotten agitated. Look at all these letters. Must be      dozens of them, maybe a hundred. The settlers who wrote them are      ahead of us on the trail. We're among the last to head out this      season and you know what that means, don't you? he'd asked      Stanton. We might be too late. The mountain passes will be closed      off by snow come winter, and winter comes early in higher      elevations.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Patience, Edwin,\" Stanton said now. \"We've barely put      Independence behind us-\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Yet here it is the middle of June. We're moving too slowly.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Slinging the towel back over his shoulder, Stanton looked around      him: The sun had been up for hours and yet they hadn't broken      camp. All around him, families were still finishing their      breakfasts over the remains of their campfires. Mothers stood      dandling babies in their arms as they swapped gossip. A boy was      out playing with a dog instead of herding the family's oxen in      from the field.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Can you blame them on such a fine morning?\" he asked lightly.      After weeks on the trail, no one was anxious to face another day.      Half the men were only in a hurry when it came time to break out      the jug of mash. Bryant only frowned. Stanton rubbed the back of      his neck. \"Anyway, Russell is the man to talk to.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bryant grimaced as he stooped to retrieve his coffee cup. \"I've      talked to Russell about it and he agrees, and yet does nothing      about it. The man can't say no to anyone. Earlier in the week-you      remember-he let those men go off on a buffalo hunt, and the train      sat idle for two days to smoke and dry the meat.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"We might be happy for that meat farther down the trail.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I guarantee you that we'll see more buffalo. But we'll never get      those days back.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Stanton saw the sense in what Bryant said, and didn't want to      argue. \"Look. I'll go with you tonight and we'll speak to Russell      together. We'll make him see that we're serious.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bryant shook his head. \"I'm tired of waiting. That's what I've      come to tell you: I'm leaving the wagon train. A few of us men are      going ahead on horseback. It's too slow by wagon. The family men,      I understand why they need their wagons. They have young children,      the old and sick to carry. They have their goods to worry about. I      don't begrudge them, but I won't be held hostage by them, either.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Stanton thought of his own wagon, his pair of oxen. The outfit had      cost nearly all the money he made from the sale of his store. \"I      see.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bryant's eyes were bright behind his glasses. \"That rider who      joined up with us last night, he told me that the Washoe were      still south of their usual grazing territory, about two weeks down      the trail. I can't risk missing them.\" Bryant fancied himself to      be a bit of an amateur anthropologist and was supposedly writing a      book about the various tribes' spiritual beliefs. He could talk      for hours about Indian legends-talking animals, trickster gods,      spirits that seemed to live in the earth and wind and water-and      was so passionate that some of the settlers had become suspicious      of him. As much as Stanton enjoyed Bryant's stories, he knew they      could be terrifying to Christians raised solely on Bible stories,      who couldn't understand that a white man could be deeply      fascinated by native beliefs.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I know these people are your friends. But for God's sake,\" Bryant      continued. When he was excited about a subject, it was hard to get      him to drop it. \"What made them think they could bring their      entire households with them to California?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Stanton couldn't help but smile. He knew, of course, what Bryant      was referring to: George Donner's great, customized prairie      schooner. It had been the talk of Springfield when it was built      and had become the talk of the entire wagon train. The wagon bed      had been built up an extra few feet so there was room for a bench      and a covered storage area. It even had a small stove with its      chimney vented through the cloth canopy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bryant nodded toward the Donners' campsite. \"I mean, how do they      expect to cross the mountains with something like that? It's a      behemoth. Even four yoke of oxen won't be enough to haul it up the      steep grades. And for what? To carry the queen of Sheba in      comfort.\" In the short time since the Springfield contingent had      joined up with the larger Russell party, Edwin Bryant had      developed a healthy dislike for Tamsen Donner, that was plain      enough. \"Have you seen inside that thing? Like Cleopatra's      pleasure barge, with its feather mattress and silks.\" Stanton      smirked. It wasn't as though the Donners were sleeping inside;      their wagon was packed with household goods-including bedding-like      every other wagon. Bryant was a little prone to righteous      exaggeration. \"I'd thought George Donner was a smart fellow.      Apparently not.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Can you blame him for wanting to make his wife happy?\" Stanton      asked. He wanted to think of George Donner as a friend, but he      couldn't. Not knowing of Donner's connections.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e And now, to make matters worse, he was having a hard time keeping      his eyes off Donner's wife. Tamsen Donner was a good twenty years      younger than her husband and bewitchingly beautiful, possibly the      most beautiful woman Stanton had ever met. She was like one of      those porcelain dolls you saw in a dressmaker's shop, modeling the      latest French fashions in miniature. She had a cunning look in her      eyes he found himself drawn to, and the tiniest waist, so small      that a man could circle it with his two hands. Several times, he'd      had to stop himself from thinking about how that waist would feel      in his hands. It was a mystery to Stanton how George Donner had      won a woman like that in the first place. He assumed Donner's      money had something to do with it.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"A group of us are heading out tomorrow,\" Bryant said, more      quietly. \"Why don't you join us? You're your own man, no family to      worry about. That way, you could get to . . . wherever you're      going that much quicker.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Bryant was obviously fishing again, trying to learn the reason why      Stanton was making the trip west. Most people were only too eager      to talk about it. Bryant knew Stanton had owned a dry-goods      business and a home back in Springfield, but Stanton hadn't shared      with him-hadn't shared with anybody-why he'd decided to walk away      from it all. His partner, the one with the business sense, had      died unexpectedly, leaving Stanton to manage the store on his own.      He had the head for that kind of thing but not the spirit for      it-waiting on the endless stream of customers, haggling with the      ones who didn't like his prices, trying to stock the shelves with      products that would appeal to the citizens of Springfield,      neighbors he barely knew and certainly didn't understand (exotic      toilet waters? bright satin ribbon?). It had been a lonely time      and was certainly one of the reasons he'd left Springfield.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e But not the only reason.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Stanton decided to hedge. \"What would I do with my wagon and oxen?      I can't just abandon them on the trail.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You wouldn't need to. I'm sure you can find someone in the group      to buy them. Or you can hire one of the drivers to see to your      wagon and make sure it gets to California.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I don't know,\" Stanton said. Unlike Bryant, he didn't mind      traveling with families, the noise of the children, the      high-pitched chatter of the women on the trail. But it was more      than that.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Give me time to think about it,\" he said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e At that moment, a man on horseback came galloping up, his arrival      announced by a swirl of dust. George Donner. One of his jobs was      to get the wagon train started on its way in the morning.      Normally, he went about it cheerfully, urging the families to pack      their campsites and get their oxen hitched up so the great caravan      could get under way again. But this morning his expression was      dark.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Stanton hailed Donner briefly. It was time to go, then, at last.      \"I was just about to chain up-\" he began, but Donner cut him off.","brand":"G.P. Putnam's Sons","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46302634836197,"sku":"NP9780735212534","price":19.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780735212534.jpg?v=1767739868","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-hunger-isbn-9780735212534","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}