Unnatural Selection
by
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'The Blight' crept in like a thief in the night, so quiet no one was aware of its arrival, didn't even know of its existence, I mean why should they, people die all the time don't they? Even healthy people die and sometimes for no obvious reason, fine one second, gone the next. That's life, it happens. It's part of the order of things, an every day event. The dead make way for the living.
But when it did announce itself the consequences were so shocking that there was nothing in human history to compare with it. The religious nuts talked of God's wrath being exacted on humankind. 'A curse on all our our houses!' they trumpeted. They said it was divine retribtion for the decadent society we had created. I'm not sure about the retribuion but the decadent society bit was definitely true.
I can still remeber how it was, a reporter from a British tabloid newspaper infiltrated one of the lunatic fringe movements, he wrote of seeing a church alter draped in a gold-covered cloth with a white cross roughly stiched in the centre. They had drugged their victim before laying him out, the high priest had raised an ornate dagger above his head before plunging it into the poor victim's chest, tearing through skin and muscle and bone; then, laying open the wound like the Inca Sharmans of old, he pushed his hand into the gaping wound and ripped out the poor sod's heart, holding it aloft as if it were the ultimate prize, showing it to the frenzied faithful who cheered and cheered in rapturous ecstasy.
I turned and faced what was left of the team, no one was looking in my direction so I assumed they hadn't heard anything of my conversation with Madge, just six of them now, seven with me, I wondered who would be next and then I wondered who would be last. I sort of hoped it wouldn't be me.
The next to die was Bryn; he was eating a snack when he just keeled over, I'd seen it many times but I still found it unnerving. The rest of us stopped what we were doing and manhandled the body over to the window, George opened it wide and we pushed it through. No one looked to see where it landed, we knew it would be collected and burned. It wasn't a callous act on our part; there was nothing else we could do.
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About the Book
In every village, town and city, in every country throughout the world people are dying for no apparent reason; fine one second, dead the next, young and old, rich and poor and the numbers are accelerating by the hour. The popular dailies call it 'The Blight' but what is 'The Blight' and can it be stopped?
Airplanes drop out of the sky raining death and destruction on the hapless cities below as their pilots suddenly die at the controls and the driving of automobiles has to be banned worldwide as countless fatal crashes claim the lives of millions in towns and cities on every continent, as drivers fall victim to 'The Blight'.
The UN say the deaths are as a result of a mutant virus that has escaped from a Moscow laboratory but Dr Eve James a Micro Biologist from the US Center for Disease Control knows differently.
The finest scientific and medical minds at The Pasteur Institute, Oxford University and Duke University are brought together to find the answers but time is fast running out as governments collapse throughout the world and civilisation teeters on the brink of madness.....and then the terrifying answer.
Dennis Wheatley's novel is a spellbinder, taking the reader on a white-knuckle ride into a world bright with terror as humankind faces its ultimate battle - the survival of the species.
About the Author
Dennis Wheatley was born in Bolton Lancashire some time after the war (second one that is). He is married with children to Beverly, his wife of twenty some years.
Dennis started writing poetry when he was 11 years old and progressed to songwriting after he became a rock guitarist with The Detours. He was also co-editor of Phenomena Magazine where he wrote many articles on the supernatural, myths and magic and extra-terrestrial space travel. His songwriting became more prolific in the seventies when he and his co-writer friend took a trip to 'Tin Pan Alley' in London and were told by an executive at EMI that Tom Jones and The Fortunes were interested in one of their songs - 'Mississippi Gambling Guy'.
In 1982 Dennis took off for Jamaica where he spent the next 23 years and where he met Beverly, during this time he wrote many gospel songs and performed them at several Kingston churches.
He finally got down to writing his first novel in the spring of 2005 and the result is this superb work of fiction. Although he has drawn inspiration from such literary giants as King, Koontz and Lumley not to mention his namesake, his style and imagination are most definitely his own.
Dennis currently lives with Beverly and their two children Chantal and Brett, in Harrogate North Yorkshire where he is busy on his next novel, 'The Experiment'.