'Civilization slips into its second dark age on an unsurprising track of blood, but with a speed that could not have been foreseen by even the most pessimistic futurist. It is as if it has been waiting to go. On October first, God is in His heaven, the stock market stands at 10,140, and most of the planes are on time (except for those landing and taking off in Chicago, and that's to be expected). Two weeks later the skies belong to the birds again and the stock market is a
memory. By Halloween, every major city from
New York to Moscow stinks to the empty heavens and the world as it was is a memory.'
The event became known as The Pulse. The virus was carried by every cellular phone operating in the world. Within hours, those receiving calls would become insane-or die. In Boston, a young artist, Clayton Riddell, flees the explosive heart of the city. He makes the connection between those using their cell phones and the mayhem that ensues. Clay's son has a little red cell phone. Often out of juice. But what if this time the battery is full? Clay has to reach his son, before his son reaches for his phone... There are one hundred and ninety-three million cell phone users in the United States atone. Who doesn't have one? This utterly gripping, gory, and fascinating novel doesn't ask the question 'Can you hear me now?' It answers it with a vengeance. High concept, ingenious, and terrifying: CELL is the perfect nightmare for a whole new generation of Stephen King readers.