Wolf in survivalist clothing
school and both have one daughter.
But then we come to the differences: rather than shrewdly avoiding military service, Duncan is a celebrated war hero. Rather than being pleasured in the Oval Office by an intern, Duncan was tortured in Iraq by the Republican Guard. And rather than being the subject of innumerable rumours about extramarital affairs, Duncan was devoted to his late wife.
But onward! After all, this is – at least partially – a James Patterson book. The whole 500-page novel takes place in just a few days as a terrorist plots to activate a computer virus devised by a beautiful Abkhazian separatist.
In a matter of hours, the country’s financial, legal and medical records will be erased; the transportation and electrical grids will crash.
Only one handsome man can stop this, but it’s not easy for the president of the United States to slip out of the White House and foil international terrorists.
For much of the book, Patterson seems to have deferred to the First Writer. That’s a problem. When we pick up a thriller this silly, we want underwear models shooting Hellfire missiles from hang gliders; Clinton gives us cabinet members questioning each other via Skype.
The larger problem is how cramped the novel’s scope remains. There’s no thrum of national panic and much of the plot is stuck in a room with nerds trying to crack a computer code. That struggle feels about as exciting as watching your parents trying to remember their Facebook password.
It’s enough to make a reader nostalgic for the – Washington Post SINCE animal life began on our planet, nature provided the necessary instincts to prevent one species dominating another. In the words of Joan in George Bernard Shaw’s “kill or be killed”, has kept a natural balance. Well! It was supposed to.
Unfortunately, nature didn’t take cognisance of Greek god Prometheus stealing fire from Mount Olympus and passing it to mankind – principally for warmth and cooking.
However, link a mad individual’s ability to make fire with an overwhelming desire for power the chances are some fighting will break out.
The Bronze age is when knives, spears and swords were forged. Bows and arrows, too.
By the ninth century the Chinese had developed a combustible black powder. By the 10th century their “fire lance” (the gun’s precursor) came into action. The 13th century introduced the cannon. And as one band aimed either to keep themselves safe or overcome another, the arms race hotted up until the early 1900s.
In a trigger happy president drops a nuclear bomb on a perceived enemy. In turn
The Wolves of Winter
that president retaliates by bombing another. This tit-for-tat spat eventually destroys all but a few areas. What bombs don’t kill a virulent flu epidemic does.
Except, in expectation of flu, groups of skilled biologists work underground to find a vaccine.
After the bombs, Lynn McBride’s biologist father takes his family from Chicago to Alaska’s Eagle. Following his death from flu, the McBride family settles in Yukon territory.
Lynn’s mother, Uncle Jeryl, brother Jen and young friend Ramsey survive by fishing the Blackstone River, hunting and growing crops in a shed.
Johnson’s medical adventure mystery begins when Lynn, an expert archer, is out checking a trap and she comes up against uncouth Conrad. Not only has he stolen her kill, he tries to rape her.
She escapes, but now has a dangerous enemy. Unexpectedly into their lives walks Jax and his dog Wolf. As Jax is injured, exhausted and obviously requires rest, he’s (reluctantly) taken in by the family. Why this stranger is walking alone in the wilderness is the story’s main thrust. As is Lynn’s immunity to the flu.
An adventure mystery isn’t an adventure mystery without bad guys somewhere. has them. They are power hungry and willing to kill anyone and everyone to find Lynn and Jax. To tell why this pair are so important is to ruin the story.
What holds attention is Johnson’s telling why, his writing style, his character analysis, descriptions of the wilderness, protagonists’ survival tactics when fleeing an unknown foe, and a touch of love.
Adding gravitas are snippets of Walt Whitman’s transcendentalist poetry flitting through pages, and a plucky young heroine who believes right is not might.