1 IT WAS AN EVENING LIKE ANY OTHER IN THE SMALL TOWN
of Santa Rosa, except for the fact that Gene Brennick’s fingerprints were falling off. He’d been eating a cinnamon Pop-Tart when the skin on his thumb unrolled like loose string and landed in the kitchen sink. “That’s weird,” he said, and then popped his earphones into his ears. Weirder stuff had happened to him. Just yesterday he’d been swallowed by a giant plant that lived behind the old watertreatment plant and called itself Eddie.
Gene sat on the steps of his front porch, alone. Even with all the lights on he was easy to...