The snow started falling when the cull began, and Hankson now finds himself trapped in a permanent blizzard. The peaceful facade of suburbia has been destroyed – townsfolk, neighbours, and friends crushed, houses bulldozed and replaced with a series of six-storey tall hedge mazes, looming ominously over Hankson’s small and rundown cottage. The once desirable Sunset Valley, where Hank Hankson lived a humble life with his dog Sumo, has been ripped to pieces but an unknown, malevolent, but somehow familiar force.
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