The ritual

"And on the second day things did not get better." This suitably foreboding opening sentence sets the stage for a dark and mesmerizing horror debut that riffs on Algernon Blackwood's classic story "The Wendigo." Hutch, Luke, Dom, and Phil set off on a camping trip in the forests of Sweden, only to find the woods hostile to their explorations. Tensions arise when it becomes clear that two of the party aren't physically up to the challenges of navigating the rough terrain, and fears set in with the discovery of an eviscerated "thing" hanging higher up in a tree then any animal would place it. Nevill makes the natural world deeply menacing, using the power of suggestion rather than explicit images to create a growing claustrophobic feeling as the difficult journey to return to some semblance of civilization embeds the quartet only further in the grasp of primal evil. Agent: John Jarrold. (Feb.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

When four university friends embark on a camping trip in a Scandinavian forest, their goal is to reestablish old ties while briefly escaping the pressures of their day-to-day lives. Tensions rise when an ill-conceived shortcut leaves them lost in the dense wilderness and nearly explode when the men encounter an eviscerated corpse strung up in a tree. Lost, terrified, and now hunted, they know their nightmare has just begun. Despite the apparent Blair Witch/Dreamcatcher/Deliverance-derived premise, Nevill's U.S. debut spins an old idea into something fresh, gripping, and deeply disturbing. The presence in the woods is unspeakably evil, but the growing hostility and violence among the men is nearly as alarming. VERDICT- Nevill's prose is sometimes challenging-he repeatedly pummels his readers with lengthy passages of baroque description that slow down the action-but, in the end, he has crafted a harrowing read that will keep readers riveted right through the final page. Highly recommended, especially for fans of gritty, literary horror by authors such as Scott Smith, Clive Barker, and Dan Simmons.-Jeanne Bogino, New Lebanon Lib., NY (c) Copyright 2012. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Ritual, The I BENEATH THE REMAINS PROLOGUE And on the second day things did not get better. The rain fell hard and cold, the white sun never broke through the low grey cloud, and they were lost. But it was the dead thing they found hanging from a tree that changed the trip beyond recognition. All four of them saw it at the same time. Right after they clambered over another fallen tree to stumble into more of the scratching bracken, they came across it. Breathing hard, damp with sweat and rain, speechless with fatigue, they came to a halt. Bent from the weight of the rucksacks, bedding and wet tents, they stood under it. Looked up. Above them, beyond the reach of a man standing upright, the dead thing sagged. Between the limbs of a spruce tree it was displayed, but in such a tattered state they could not tell what it had once been. From the large rib cage drooped the gut, wet and blue in the light seeping through the canopy of leaves. The pelt was spread out across surrounding branches, holed but stretched taut in places. A ragged hem about a crumpled centre suggested the skin had been torn from the back in one quick ripping motion. And at first no head could be seen in the mess of blood and flesh. Until, in the violent red and yellow suddenness of hung meat, the bony grin of a jaw bone waspicked out by them all. Just above it was an eye, big as a snooker ball but glazed and dull. Around it a long skull in profile. Hutch turned to face the others. He always led the group as it staggered through the forest looking for the new trail. It was his idea to come through here. His face was pale and he did not speak. Somehow the shock of this sight made him look younger. Vulnerable, because this mutilated statement up above their heads was the only thing on the camping holiday he did not have an answer for. Didn't have a clue about. Phil couldn't keep the tremor from his voice. 'What is it?' No one answered him. 'Why?' Dom said. 'Why would you put it up there?' The sound of these voices reassured three of them enough to start talking over each other. Sometimes answering questions. Sometimes just voicing new ideas. Only Luke said nothing. But as the others talked they moved away from the thing in the tree more quickly than they had approached it. And soon they were all silent again, but their feet made more noise than at any other time during the hike of the last two days. Because there was no smell coming from the corpse. It was a fresh kill. THE RITUAL. Copyright (c) 2011 by Adam Nevill. Excerpted from The Ritual by Adam Nevill All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.