Kindle Price: CDN$ 13.99

Save CDN$ 11.00 (44%)

includes free international wireless delivery via Amazon Whispernet

Promotions are applied when you make a purchase

These promotions will be applied to this item:

Deliver to your Kindle Library
Deliver to your Kindle Library
Kindle app logo image

Download the free Kindle app and start reading Kindle books instantly on your smartphone, tablet or computer – no Kindle device required. Learn more

Read instantly on your browser with Kindle for Web.

Using your mobile phone camera, scan the code below and download the Kindle app.

QR code to download the Kindle app

Wanderers: A Novel by [Chuck Wendig]

Follow the Author

Chuck Wendig
Something went wrong. Please try your request again later.

Wanderers: A Novel Kindle Edition

by Chuck Wendig (Author) Format: Kindle Edition
4.3 out of 5 stars 3,013 ratings
See all formats and editions
Amazon Price
New from Used from
Kindle Edition
$13.99
— —
Audible Audiobook, Unabridged
$0.00
Free with your Audible trial
Hardcover
$40.46
$30.56 $38.69
Paperback
$23.92
$23.48 $20.50
Previous page
  1. Print length
    775 pages
  2. Language
    English
  3. Sticky notes
    On Kindle Scribe
  4. Publisher
    Del Rey
  5. Publication date
    July 2 2019
  6. File size
    7200 KB
  7. Page Flip
    Enabled
  8. Word Wise
    Enabled
  9. Enhanced typesetting
    Enabled
  10. See all details
Next page
All 2 for you in this series See full series
See included books
Total Price: CDN$30.98
By clicking on "Buy now" you agree to Amazon's Kindle Store Terms of Use
Sold by: Random House Canada, Incorp.
Price set by publisher.

From the Publisher

The Book of Accidents cover Aftermath cover
The Book of Accidents Aftermath: Star Wars
More from Chuck Wendig A family returns to their hometown—and to the dark past that haunts them still—in this masterpiece of literary horror by Chuck Wendig. The Emperor may be defeated, but the war isn't over as the fledgling New Republic hunts the remnants of the Empire.

Product description

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

1

THE FIRST SLEEPWALKER

JUNE 3
Maker’s Bell, Pennsylvania

Shana stood there looking at her little sister’s empty bed, and her first thought was: Nessie ran away again.

She called to her a few times. Honestly, after Nessie had stayed up late last night to watch the comet through Dad’s shitty telescope, Shana  figured the younger girl would still be in bed, snoring up little earthquakes. She wasn’t sure where the hell else Nessie could be—Shana had been up for an hour already, making their lunches, finishing the laundry, putting the trash and recycling together so she could haul it up the long driveway for tomorrow’s pickup. So she knew Nessie wasn’t in the kitchen. Maybe she was in the upstairs bathroom.

“Nessie?” She paused. Listened. “Nessie, c’mon.”

But nothing.

Again the thought: Nessie ran away again.

It didn’t make much sense. First time Nessie ran away, that made sense.

They’d just lost their mother—lost her in a very literal way. The four of them went to the grocery store, and only three of them came back. They feared Mom had been taken and hurt, but eventually security cameras from the Giant Eagle showed that nobody kidnapped her; she strolled out the automatic doors like nothing was wrong and then walked out of their lives for good. Mom became a big question mark stuck in their cheeks like a fish-hook.

But it was clear that their mother didn’t want to be a part of their lives anymore. That, Shana knew even then, had been a long time coming, but the realization did not hit Nessie—and still had not reached her, even now. Nessie believed then that it was Dad’s fault. And maybe Shana’s, too. So two years ago almost to the day, after school was done for the year, Nessie packed a backpack full of canned goods and bottled water (plus a couple of candy bars), and ran away.

They found Nessie four hours later at the wooden bus shelter on Granger, hiding from a sudden rain squall. Shivering like a stray puppy. When Dad picked her up she kicked and thrashed, and it was like watching a wrestler try to pin a tornado. But then he gave up, said to her, “You want to run away, you run away, but if you’re thinking of going after your mother, I don’t think she wants to be found.”

It was like watching a glass of water tip in slow motion. Nessie collapsed in his arms and wept so hard she could only catch her breath in these keening, air-sucking hitches. Her shoulders shook and she pressed both hands under her armpits as if hugging herself. They got her home. She slept for two days and then, slowly but surely, came back to life.

That was two years ago.

Today, though, Shana could not gure out why Nessie would want to run away again. Girl was fifteen now and hadn’t hit the wall like Shana had at that age—as Dad put it, Shana “went full teenager.” Mopey and mad and hormones like a kicking horse. Shana was almost eighteen, now. She was better these days. Mostly.

Nessie was still all right, hadn’t turned into a werewolf. Still happy. Still optimistic. Eyes bright like new nickels. She had a little notebook, in which she wrote all the things she wanted to do (scuba dive with sharks, study bats, knit her own slippers like Mom-Mom used to do), all the places she wanted to go (Edinburgh, Tibet, San Diego), all the people she wanted to meet (the president, an astronaut, her future husband). She said to Shana one day, “I heard that if you complain it reprograms your brain like a computer virus and it just makes you more and more unhappy, so I’m going to stay positive because I bet the opposite is true, too.” 

That notebook sat there on her empty bed. Next to the bed was an open box—Nessie had gotten some package in the mail, some science thing she must’ve ordered. (Shana borrowed a part of it, a little test tube, to hold weed.) Her daffodil-yellow sheets looked rumpled and slept-in. Her pink pillow still showed her head-dent.

Shana peeked at the notebook. Nessie had started a new list: JOBS I MIGHT LIKE?? Included: zookeeper, beekeeper, alpaca farmer, photographer. Photographer? Shana thought. That’s my bag. A weird are of anger lanced through her. Nessie was good at everything. If she decided to do the thing that Shana wanted to do, she’d do it better and that would suck and they’d hate each other forever. (Well, no. Shana would hate Nessie. Nessie would love her unconditionally because that was Nessie.)

Shana called out for her again. “Ness? Nessie?” Her voice echoed and nothing but the echo answered. Shit.

Dad was probably already in the so-called milking parlor (he said if they’re going to be part of the artisanal cheese movement here in Pennsylvania they needed to start talking like it, damnit), and he would be expecting Ness and Shana to staff the little shop up by the road. Then eventually he’d come get one of them to head into the cheese barn to check the curds on that Gouda or get the blues draining—then mix the silage and feed the cows and ah, hell, the vet was coming today to look at poor Belinda’s red, crusty udders and—

Maybe that’s why Nessie ran away. School was out already and summer vacation wasn’t much of one: Everything was work, work, work. (Shana wondered if Nessie had the right idea. She could run away, too. Even for the day. Call up her buddy Zig in his Honda, smoke some weed, read comic books, talk shit about the seniors who just graduated . . .)

(God, she had to get out of here.)

(If she didn’t get out of here soon, she’d stay here forever. This place felt like quicksand.)

Of course, Nessie was too good a girl to have run away again, so maybe she got the jump on Shana and was already out in the shop. Little worker bee, that one. What was the song on Dad’s old REM album? “Shiny Happy People”? That was Nessie.

Shana’d already eaten, so she went in search of the little clip-on macro lens she used over her phone’s camera to let her take photos of things real close-up, magnified. Little worlds revealed, the micro made macro. She didn’t have a proper camera, but she was saving up to get a DSLR one day. In the meantime, that meant using the phone. Maybe she’d nd something in the stable or in the cheesemaking room that would look cool up close: flaking rust, the red needle in the thermometer, the bubbles or crystals in the cheese itself.

It hit her where she’d left the lens last time—she was taking pictures of a house spider hanging in her window, and she left the lens on the sill. So she went there to grab it—

Something outside caught her eye. Movement up the driveway. One of the cows loose was her first thought.

Shana headed to the window.

Someone was out there, walking.

No. Not someone.

Little dum-dum was halfway up the driveway in her PJ pants and pink

T-shirt. Barefoot, too, by the look of it. Oh, what the hell, Nessie?

Shana ran to the kitchen, forgetting her lens. She hurriedly popped on her sneakers and ran out the door to the back porch, nearly tripping on the one sneaker that wasn’t all the way on yet, but she quick smashed her heel down into the shoe and kept on running.

She thought to yell to her little sister, but decided against it. No need to draw Dad’s attention. He’d see they weren’t out in the shop yet and give them a ration of hot shit about it, and Shana didn’t want to hear it. This was not a morning for nonsense, and already the nonsense was mounting.

Instead she ran up along the driveway, the red gravel crunching underneath her sneaks. The Holsteins on the left bleated and mooed. A young calf—she thought it was Moo Radley—stood there on knock-knees watching her hurry to catch up to her tweedledum sister. “Nessie,” she hissed. “Nessie, hey!”

But Nessie didn’t turn around. She just kept on walking. What a little asshole.

Shana jogged up ahead of her and planted her feet like roots. “God, Nessie, what the hell are you—”

It was then she saw the girl’s eyes. They were open. Her sister’s gaze stood fixed at nothing, like she was looking through Shana or staring around her.

Dead eyes, dead like the at tops of fat nails. Gone was the luster of wonder, that spark.

Barefoot, Nessie continued on. Shana didn’t know what to do—move out of her way? Stand planted like a telephone pole? Her indecision forced her to do a little of both—she shifted left just a little, but still in her sister’s inevitable path.

The girl’s shoulder clipped her hard. Shana staggered left, taking the hit. The laugh that came up out of her was one of surprise. It was a pissed-off laugh, a bark of incredulity.

“That hurt, dummy,” she said, and then grabbed for the girl’s shoulder and shook her.

Nothing. Nessie just pulled away and kept going. --This text refers to the hardcover edition.

Review

“Wanderers is amazing—huge, current, both broad and intensely personal, blending the contemplative apocalypse of Station Eleven with the compulsive readability of the best thrillers.”—Django Wexler, author of the Shadow Campaigns series

“A riveting examination of America.”—Scott Sigler, #1 New York Times bestselling author of the Generations Trilogy
 
“If you ever wanted to know what America's soul might look like, here’s its biography.”—Rin Chupeco, author of The Bone Witch
 
“A tsunami of a novel.”—Meg Gardiner, Edgar Award-winning author of Into the Black Nowhere
 
“A defining moment in speculative fiction.”—Adam Christopher, author of Empire State and Made to Kill
 
“Trust me: You're not ready for this book.”—Delilah S. Dawson, New York Times bestselling author of Star Wars: Phasma
 
“An astounding adventure.”—Fran Wilde, Hugo-, Nebula-, and World Fantasy finalist and award-winning author of the Bone Universe trilogy
 
“Utterly brilliant and frighteningly plausible.”—Kat Howard, Alex Award-winning author of An Unkindness of Magicians
 
“Beautiful and harrowing—and timely as hell.”—Richard Kadrey, New York Times bestselling author of The Grand Dark
 
“A harrowing portrait of an unraveling America . . . terrifyingly prophetic.”—Christopher Golden, New York Times bestselling author of Ararat and The Pandora Room
 
“A brilliant, Hollywood-blockbuster of a novel.”—Peter Clines, author of Dead Moon and Paradox Bound

“Approach Wanderers like it’s a primetime television series, along the lines of The Passage [or] Lost. . . . Make Wanderers a summer reading priority; you won’t regret it.”—Book Riot
 --This text refers to the hardcover edition.

Product details

  • ASIN ‏ : ‎ B07JD1CH2H
  • Publisher ‏ : ‎ Del Rey (July 2 2019)
  • Language ‏ : ‎ English
  • File size ‏ : ‎ 7200 KB
  • Text-to-Speech ‏ : ‎ Enabled
  • Screen Reader ‏ : ‎ Supported
  • Enhanced typesetting ‏ : ‎ Enabled
  • X-Ray ‏ : ‎ Enabled
  • Word Wise ‏ : ‎ Enabled
  • Sticky notes ‏ : ‎ On Kindle Scribe
  • Print length ‏ : ‎ 775 pages
  • Customer Reviews:
    4.3 out of 5 stars 3,013 ratings

About the author

Follow authors to get new release updates, plus improved recommendations.

Chuck Wendig

Brief content visible, double tap to read full content.
Full content visible, double tap to read brief content.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Chuck Wendig is the New York Times bestselling author of Star Wars: Aftermath, as well as the Miriam Black thrillers, the Atlanta Burns books, and the Heartland YA series, alongside other works across comics, games, film, and more. A finalist for the John W. Campbell Award for Best New Writer and the cowriter of the Emmy-nominated digital narrative Collapsus, he is also known for his popular blog, terribleminds.com, and his books about writing. He lives in Pennsylvania with his family. (photo by Edwin Tse)

Customer reviews

4.3 out of 5 stars
4.3 out of 5
3,013 global ratings
5 star
56%
4 star
24%
3 star
12%
2 star
4%
1 star
3%

Top reviews from Canada

Anne V.
4.0 out of 5 stars Excellent read
Reviewed in Canada 🇨🇦 on February 15, 2021
Verified Purchase
Helpful
 Report abuse
Amazon Customer
5.0 out of 5 stars Wonderfully immersive, terrifyingly prescient
Reviewed in Canada 🇨🇦 on March 24, 2020
Verified Purchase
2 people found this helpful
Helpful
 Report abuse
John
3.0 out of 5 stars So so
Reviewed in Canada 🇨🇦 on November 18, 2019
Verified Purchase
5 people found this helpful
Helpful
 Report abuse
Betty
5.0 out of 5 stars Up there with The Stand
Reviewed in Canada 🇨🇦 on May 11, 2021
Verified Purchase
Helpful
 Report abuse
Andrea J Skinner
5.0 out of 5 stars Great mind bending read!
Reviewed in Canada 🇨🇦 on August 13, 2021
Verified Purchase
Helpful
 Report abuse
K.
5.0 out of 5 stars Best Read of Many Years
Reviewed in Canada 🇨🇦 on January 17, 2020
Verified Purchase
Helpful
 Report abuse
mary ellen warren
5.0 out of 5 stars What a ride!
Reviewed in Canada 🇨🇦 on July 26, 2019
Verified Purchase
3 people found this helpful
Helpful
 Report abuse
Gilis
4.0 out of 5 stars different
Reviewed in Canada 🇨🇦 on July 24, 2019
Verified Purchase
Helpful
 Report abuse

Top reviews from other countries

M. King
1.0 out of 5 stars Excruciating
Reviewed in the United Kingdom 🇬🇧 on September 25, 2019
Verified Purchase
49 people found this helpful
 Report abuse
Amazon Customer
5.0 out of 5 stars There are people who haven't bought this book down-voting it. These people are babies.
Reviewed in the United Kingdom 🇬🇧 on August 3, 2019
Verified Purchase
31 people found this helpful
 Report abuse
Simon Booth
4.0 out of 5 stars Very American
Reviewed in the United Kingdom 🇬🇧 on October 12, 2019
Verified Purchase
21 people found this helpful
 Report abuse
David
1.0 out of 5 stars Wandering to nowhere
Reviewed in the United Kingdom 🇬🇧 on January 22, 2020
Verified Purchase
10 people found this helpful
 Report abuse
GrumpyGranny
5.0 out of 5 stars I want to read more of this author's work!
Reviewed in the United Kingdom 🇬🇧 on December 18, 2019
Verified Purchase
5 people found this helpful
 Report abuse
Report an issue

Does this item contain inappropriate content?
Report
Do you believe that this item violates a copyright?
Report
Does this item contain quality or formatting issues?
Report