The Missing

Langan has the ability to create a fully-realized, three-dimensional person in only a few short pages. Near the beginning of THE MISSING, a woman walks out of her house to pick up the newspaper. On her way back, she sees a bird eating poisonous berries. If a lesser author were to write this sequence, it would be half a page and we would know no more about this woman when she returned to the house than we did at the beginning of the chapter. With Langan behind the wheel, this ordinary moment is a glimpse into a life both complex and ordinary, a woman frustrated in her role as mother and wife, full of regret and hope and sadness all at once. She is a real person, someone we know or might even have been, and we suddenly care very much what happens to her. This is where most horror movies and many novels fail: making characters into archetypes, easily disposed of when the monster appears. Langan never falls into stereotype, making each character nuanced and real, with flaws that remind us that they are human beings. We never cheer for any of the deaths, even when they are characters we wouldn't want to know in real life. But we feel real sorrow at their flailing and ultimate futile attempts to save themselves. Langan's voice will echo in your head for days after you finish reading this book. I find myself eagerly awaiting her next outing, even if the path down which she leads us is lined with poisonous flowers. [...]

The Missing is Sarah Langan's second novel, a follow up to her highly praised 2006 debut, The Keeper, which no less a light than Peter Straub described as combining "a genuinely poetic sensibility with a taste for horror's most bravura excesses." Happily, The Missing (called The Virus in its UK incarnation) shows those same qualities, resulting in a book that's memorable, heartbreaking and disturbing. The Missing (inspired in part by Langan's personal experiences in New York in the days after the 9/11 attack, when the smells and dust emanating from ground zero permeated the air in the city) is a loose sequel to The Keeper. For instance, a character from that novel appears briefly, and the town of Bedford, where The Keeper was set, is mentioned. The key link between the two novels, however, is the explosion of Clott Paper Mill at the end of The Keeper. Besides killing several people, the explosion and subsequent fire resulted in the release of deadly Hydrogen Sulfide gas into the air. That element comes to permeate the soil in the woods between Bedford and Corpus Christi, Maine, enabling a virus in the soil there to evolve into something deadly and malevolent, thus setting the stage for the events described in The Missing. Langan's fictional horror is precipitated by, of all things, a fourth grade field trip, where a student gets lost. After being exposed to the virus, that student becomes a Typhoid Mary of sorts, spreading the virus by attacking and biting members of the local populace. Soon, the majority of the citizens of Corpus Christi are seized by madness, turning into aggressive, flesh-craving crazies, all intent on securing their next meal and spreading the virus to new hosts. They are led by the pregnant teacher, wallflower Lois Larkin, who, while searching for her student, felt compelled to ingest some of the tainted forest dirt. Due to the way she is introduced to the virus, she becomes the hub of the group mind that the virus fosters in its victims, coming to lead the infected against the remaining populace. The Missing effectively combines small town horror with apocalyptic fiction, calling to mind several books and at least one film exploiting similar themes--King's Cell, Straub's Floating Dragon, and John Shirley's In Darkness Waiting are the novels, 28 Days Later the film--as people try to cope with a rapidly changing, infinitely more deadly world than the one they've become accustomed to. The two novels it consciously or unconsciously evokes most, however, are two classics, David Morrell's The Totem, and Chet Williamson's Ash Wednesday, the first because its posits a chillingly plausible explanation behind the legends of the werewolf, vampire and zombie, the second because, like Williamson, Langan knows that apocalypse is personal, choosing to generate emotional force from the trials and tribulations of a small cast of characters, rather than choosing a larger, global stage. Through thoroughly arresting prose

I haven't been this excited about a new writer since I picked up Carrie in 1974. From her first book, The Keeper, Ms. Langan established the haunted communities surrounding the town of Bedford, Maine in her new book, The Missing. You won't hear Jimmy Stewart running down the streets with his arms spread out and saying, "I love you Bedford Falls." I couldn't take a moment to stop reading this book. Folks, it just that good. Langan is the real deal when it comes to this genre. But don't let the "horror" tag fool you, this book will appeal to even the harshest naysayers. The story that chronicles these well-developed characters keeps the narrative real. This has always been a gripe of mine that horror stories, though the basis of every horror story is that "it can't happen," lose interest when you don't believe in the characters enough to share in their growing sense of the horror that surrounds them. Langan keeps you grounded. Stephen King's first book was about an angry girl, as was the character in the Keeper. His second book, 'Salem's Lot, engrossed us in the inhabitants of a slowly dying small town, much like The Missing. Can it be that Ms. Langan's next book will be about a haunted structure! I already can't even wait for the next one. Do yourself a favor, click on the ADD TO SHOPPING CART tab at the top of the page and you'll be glad you did.