Fancy a little dystopian, post-apocalyptic horror for a rainy day? I did, and it was great.
A bunch of teenagers are on a coach that crashes down a ravine, killing most, mortally injuring one and leaving the few survivors to try to figure out what’s going on. They’re trapped, butwhere is the driver? Are some of the survivors infected with the deadly virus they were trying to outrun? They were heading to The Retreat, and what the hell is that place all about?
Up at The Retreat, seven people and a dog think they’re safe, cut off from the horrors of the post-viral world, making deals with the local guy in control of supplies, avoiding the Whistlers who lurk in the woods, and tending to whatever the hell is in the basement. But the power outages are getting longer, and one of them is missing.
Just down from The Retreat, a cable car swings off the mountainside, its occupants stirring from a drug-induced stupor to find themselves trapped, one of them dead and a killer among them.
The three cinematic narrative threads will cleverly meet and entwine in this incredibly pacy, adrenaline-fuelled story of survival, revenge and a world desperately trying to save itself. The protagonists are beautifully varied, in differing states of mid-traumatic and post-traumatic stress: Meg is bereaved of a daughter, Hannah’s father is the genius that could kill or save them all, and Carter is mutilated and mysterious.
The Drift is a change of direction for C.J. Tudor, an author who is regularly compared to Stephen King and admired by Lee Child - more of a locked bus/cable car/Retreat murder mystery than her previous spook-fests. For pure, horrible, fascinating escapism, give this tale a go and escape one strange world for another.
