{"product_id":"the-woods-are-always-watching-isbn-9780525426028","title":"The Woods Are Always Watching","description":"\u003cb\u003e“A thrilling survival story about two teens just trying to make it to daybreak with their friendship—and their lives, too, as a horror beyond their wildest dreams lurks in the forest.” —\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eBears aren’t the only predators in these woods.\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e \u003cbr\u003eBest friends Neena and Josie spent high school as outsiders, but at least they had each other. Now, with college and a two-thousand-mile separation looming on the horizon, they have one last chance to be together—a three-day hike deep into the woods of the Pisgah National Forest.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSimmering tensions lead to a detour off the trail and straight into a waking nightmare … and then into something far worse. Something that will test them in horrifying ways. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eStephanie Perkins, the bestselling author of \u003ci\u003eThere’s Someone Inside Your House\u003c\/i\u003e, returns with a heart-stopping, gut-wrenching novel about friendship, survival, and navigating unmarked paths even as evil watches from the shadows.“A thrilling survival story about two teens just trying to make it to daybreak with their friendship—and their lives, too, as a horror beyond their wildest dreams lurks in the forest.” —\u003ci\u003eBooklist\u003cbr\u003e\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“A rapidly paced dark thriller.” —\u003ci\u003ePublishers Weekly\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Twisty and dark, this intense, character-driven YA horror is like \u003ci\u003eWild\u003c\/i\u003e by Strayed meets Stephen King.” —\u003ci\u003eBuzzfeed\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Survival novels are my idea of true horror, and Perkins delivers with this story of best friends taking one last trip together before they attend college. . . . When they go off-trail, they find themselves in a living, hellish nightmare.” —\u003ci\u003eBook Riot\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“You will be mightily entertained.” —\u003ci\u003eBuffalo News\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cb\u003eDON'T MISS STEPHANIE'S BELOVED ROMANCE TRILOGY—\u003ci\u003eANNA AND THE FRENCH KISS\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eLOLA AND THE BOY NEXT DOOR\u003c\/i\u003e, AND \u003ci\u003eISLA AND THE HAPPILY EVER AFTER\u003c\/i\u003e\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Stephanie Perkins’s characters fall in love the way we all want to, in real time and for good.” —Rainbow Rowell, #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Stephanie Perkins is the Jane Austen of our generation. Her stories ache, soothe, and leave you breathless with joy; there's true magic in these pages.” —Tahereh Mafi, #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Magical\u003ci\u003e. Anna and the French Kiss\u003c\/i\u003e really captures the feeling of being in love.” –Cassandra Clare, #1 \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Smart and sensual, \u003ci\u003eAnna and the French Kiss\u003c\/i\u003e is everything your heart is longing for. You'll want to live inside this story forever. More, \u003ci\u003es'il vous plait\u003c\/i\u003e!” —Lisa McMann, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003ebestselling author\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Very sly. Very funny. \u003ci\u003eVery\u003c\/i\u003e romantic. You should date this book.” –Maureen Johnson, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling authorSTEPHANIE PERKINS is the \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e bestselling author and anthology editor of multiple books, including \u003ci\u003eThere's Someone Inside Your House\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eAnna and the French Kiss\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eLola and the Boy Next Door\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eIsla and the Happily Ever After\u003c\/i\u003e. She has always worked with books--first as a bookseller, then as a librarian, and now as a novelist. Stephanie lives in the mountains of North Carolina with her husband. Every room of their house is painted a different color of the rainbow.\u003ci\u003eFor as long as I live,\u003c\/i\u003e she vowed, \u003ci\u003eI will never go camping again.\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Business done and wiped, she reached for her pants. A faint crack rang out from beyond the thicket—­the sound of a twig snapping.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Neena froze. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e\u003ci\u003eIt’s nothing,\u003c\/i\u003e she thought.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut then another twig snapped.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer chest seized. Frantically, she hunted for the source, but the mist had swollen into a fog. Everything was the same color of wet darkness.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSomething was moving. The forest was disturbed. Though the movements felt predatory, Neena didn’t think the something was an animal. She fumbled to switch off her headlamp. Anybody out there might see her light, panning back and forth, and know she was lost. A mosquito whined in her ear. Startled, she crushed it, smearing her lobe with her own blood.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe waited.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eListened.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe rustling and crunching grew louder. Closer. It wasn’t her imagination. Still in a crouch, Neena’s legs began to shake. Goose bumps dimpled her bottom and lower back. Never before had her flesh been so vulnerable or exposed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe noises honed into distinctly human footsteps.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFear thumped through her. The footsteps moved heavily, steadily through the underbrush. Her vision strained. They were only a few feet away, but she couldn’t see anything through the veil of fog. She prayed her light hadn’t been noticed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eOn the other side of the thicket, they stopped.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe covered her mouth. Positive her breathing was audible.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eSolid and immovable as a boulder, the presence felt menacing. A darkness darker than the surrounding forest, a mass as obliterating as a black hole. Every fear she had ever had of the night, compacted and concentrated into a single, unseen form.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eBut then, just as unexpectedly, the footsteps moved on. Heavily, steadily. Fainter and fainter, until they faded away altogether. The woods held their secret in silence.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNeena’s limbs weakened into jelly, and she sank toward the forest floor. She hastily rose to avoid falling into her own excrement. Fumbling, she pulled up her jeans, used her boot to swipe the dirt back over the hole, and reexamined her surroundings.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eShe had no idea where the tent was. Her mind hurtled through the options. She’d left the emergency whistle in the tent—­\u003ci\u003estupid, stupid\u003c\/i\u003e—­but if she cried out, Josie would come. Probably. But who \u003ci\u003eelse \u003c\/i\u003emight come? Though Neena couldn’t hear the footsteps anymore, surely their owner was still close enough to hear if she called for help.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe tent had to be nearby. She hadn’t walked that far. Had she?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWhy didn’t she bring a compass? She could have navigated by the stars or some shit! Okay, no. \u003cbr\u003eThat wasn’t true. But she couldn’t stay here, and she couldn’t risk using her headlamp, either. \u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNeena hunched over and crept along the thicket line. Her best guess was that when the bushes ended, the tent would be at about forty-­five degrees.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf she was remembering the correct thicket.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eIf she was oriented in the correct direction.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHow easy it would be to wander in the wrong direction.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eWith each step, she tested the ground with a toe before putting down the entire boot. The pine-needle carpet crackled softly—­still too loudly—­beneath her feet. Her fingers felt the thicket’s end before she saw it. She took a frightened and hesitant step away from the vegetation, her hand dislodged . . . and she was unmoored.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eFog rolled around the pines like a current as Neena waded into the dark sea. She swam between the trees, arms outstretched, hands grasping at nothing. She shuffled forward in meek increments. Each time she moved, the other footsteps moved, too. The sound was in her head. It wasn’t real. Was she alone or had they returned?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003ePanic screamed at her to run, but she fought it, afraid of alerting the stranger to her location, afraid of running in the \u003ci\u003ewrong\u003c\/i\u003e direction, afraid, afraid, afraid—­\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eHer toe tapped against a low stone. The rest of her boot came down with confidence, but another stone was touching it, and the rocks clattered together. Startled, Neena tripped over a third rock, kicking it, only to realize she was standing inside the campfire circle. She shot off and sprinted several feet, expecting to crash into the tent.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eAll she found was more fog.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Neena?”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eNeena darted toward the familiar voice. Her outstretched hands smacked into nylon. Scrabbling for the door flaps, she lunged inside and feverishly zipped them closed behind her. “Somebody is out there,” she hissed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eJosie didn’t respond.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“There were footsteps.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Yeah,” Josie said at a regular volume. She was fuming. “Yours. That’s why I called out.”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Shh!”\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“Seriously?” The question wasn’t, \u003ci\u003eAre you being serious?\u003c\/i\u003e But, \u003ci\u003eAre you seriously kidding me with this same fucking joke?\u003c\/i\u003e Neena wrapped a hand over Josie’s mouth, and Josie let out a muffled cry. The force of Neena’s pounding heart against Josie’s back made Josie stiffen in alarm. She fell quiet. Neena released her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eThe girls sat—­almost touching—­in petrified silence.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003eTheir ears strained. \u003ci\u003eWind. Insects. Leaves.\u003c\/i\u003e As the seconds ticked into a minute, Josie shoved Neena away, incensed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e“I swear,” Neena said, still whispering, “somebody was out there.”","brand":"Dutton Books for Young Readers","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46305087520997,"sku":"NP9780525426028","price":17.99,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780525426028.jpg?v=1767742301","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-woods-are-always-watching-isbn-9780525426028","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}