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Zusatztext “Turtledove creates a whole intricate biosphere with a somehow breathable atmosphere.”— The New Yorker “Well written and enjoyable…Fans of post-apocalyptic stories should enjoy this one.”— SF Revu “Entertaining…Turtledove writes a fabulous near future survival tale.”— Genre Go Round Reviews “A terrifying future of the United States that seems within the realm of possibility.”— Winnipeg Free Press Informationen zum Autor Harry Turtledove , the New York Times bestselling author of numerous novels, has a PhD in Byzantine history. Nominated for the Nebula Award, he has won the Hugo, Sidewise, and John Esthen Cook Awards. Klappentext Yellowstone National Park sits on a hotspot: a plume of molten rock coming up from deep inside the earth capable of volcanic eruptions far greater than any that have occurred in times past. It has been silent for many years! providing false security for a nation unprepared for the full force and fury of nature unleashed. It begins with explosions that send lava and mud flowing far beyond Yellowstone towards populated areas. Clouds of ash drift across the country! nearly blanketing the land from coast to coast. The fallout destroys crops and livestock! clogs machinery! and makes cities uninhabitable. Those who survive find themselves facing the dawn of a new ice age as temperatures plummet worldwide. Colin Ferguson is a police lieutenant in a suburb of Los Angeles! where snow is falling for the first time in decades. He fears for his family who are spread across America! refugees caught in an apocalyptic catastrophe where humanity has no choice but to rise from the ashes and recreate the world… Between two and three million people came to Yellowstone every year. In July and August, they all seemed to be there at once. Cars and RVs and tour buses clogged the roads till they made California freeways at rush hour look wide open by comparison. Kelly Birnbaum knew how to beat the crowds. Go a quarter of a mile off the asphalt and you shed way more than nine–tenths of the visitors. Go a couple of miles from the highways and you were pretty much on your own. That was bad news as well as good. Cell–phone reception in the vast park was spotty at best. If you got into trouble, you might not be able to let anybody else know. The idea, then, was not to get into trouble. Kelly was a city girl. She didn’t hike the wilderness because she particularly loved hiking the wilderness. She went out there because that was what you did if you were a geologist working in the field. What did the gravedigger in Hamlet say? Something about familiarity lending a quality of easiness. That was as much as she remembered. Considering that she hadn’t needed to worry about Hamlet since her undergrad days, she was moderately pleased to come up with even so much. One of the basic lessons was never to hike alone. Since she was part of a team of researchers trudging out to Coffee Pot Springs, that wasn’t an issue. Ruth Marquez came from the University of Utah. Daniel Olson, who was younger than she was, had just landed a tenure–track job at Montana State, in Missoula. Kelly didn’t know whether to be jealous or to remember it was Missoula. And the calm, unhurried fellow who needed to buy a vowel was Larry Skrtel. He’d been with the U.S. Geological Survey the past twenty years, and headed up the team. He enjoyed hiking. “The critters are less likely to bite you or run over you than the damn tourists are,” he declared. “Except for the bison, maybe,” Daniel said. “They’re as dumb as the morons who bought Hummers when gas was cheap.” He was at least six–three, but Kelly had seen his car: a fire–engine red Honda the size of a roller skate. “Keep your distance and they won’t bother you,” Larry said. “Well, usually.” “Famous last words,” Daniel said....
