From the author: Baron Vordenburg confronts a cannibalistic horror in the Canadian wilderness...
The hunter inhaled deeply, tasting the cold air and beneath it, the tang of old death. It was a familiar smell, and almost welcome. It meant they were on the right trail. He lowered his pale gaze, taking in his new hunting ground.
The logging camp consisted of three, small irregular rows of bunkhouses as well as assorted sheds and shacks, perched on the slope of a small hill overlooking a spar of the National Railway. The bunkhouses were dark now, and silent.
Stacks of cut timber marked the...