R.A. Evans's Blog, page 7

Celebrate the 12 Days of Creepfest Blog Tour

I am proud to be part of the upcoming 12 days Creepfest Blog Tour. This inaugural event is sure to add some much needed chills to your otherwise festive holiday season. I'll be giving away free ebook and print copies of Asylum Lake, galleys of the chilling sequel Grave Undertakings, and even doing some other fun and interactive things for my upcoming projects.

I hope you enjoy what you read here and also on the dozens of other Hop destinations!

7 Deadly Questions with Colin F. Barnes – editor of City of Hell Chronicles

1. In the City of Hell Chronicles (CoH) you have created quite a desolate landscape for your cadre of authors to populate with their stories of survival, death, and debauchery. Talk to me about the inspiration for this collection and why you chose to approach it via an anthology as opposed to your own tale.

It's been an idea I've had rattling around my head for a while now. I like the idea of shared worlds and the myriad stories that can be told within these themes. I think the idea originally came from a writing podcast that was discussing shared-worlds. Over time I built up this idea and eventually committed the details to paper. I chose to do it as an anthology mainly to collaborate. Any idea benefits from the input of others, and I wanted to see where this theme could go. Also, by doing it as anthology, I can bring in unique and distinct voices. It's not to say I won't do solo projects within the City of Hell (I have a number of novellas planned), but I do like the vitality an anthology of different authors brings.

2. I was impressed with the amount of science that lives and breathes within City of Hell. Describe the research that went into creating the City of Hell.

I have to be totally honest here and say that isn't really down to me. I was lucky enough to have some amazing contributors who took it upon themselves to do some research into ant colonies. Through a forum I setup we discussed the various approaches, and the authors did the rest. We were also lucky to have a qualified scientist on board: Victoria Griesdoorn, who was responsible for the wonderful medical report. I felt it really added some gravity to the whole anthology.

3. I've read the works of several of the authors who participated in the anthology and am impressed with how their unique brands of storytelling feel right at home within the overarching plot and landscape. How much control did each of the authors have in crafting their own storylines and what role did you play in ensuring consistency throughout?

I set-out ground rules within a scope document, but generally left it up to the contributors to provide an outline of their story. We collaborated on some, and on a few I gave some guidance. We all critiqued each others stories (including my own) so although the stories are individual to the respective author, as a group we worked on the project as a whole. There were few situations where I had to insist on certain things to ensure consistency, but it wasn't too difficult because we were communicating throughout the project. I really was blesses with an amazing group of authors. They all worked really hard and had as much passion as me for this project, I couldn't have asked for a better group of writers, they are a special group of people.

4. The illustrations included within City of Hell are amazing and really place the reader much more deeply within both the setting and inside the hearts and minds of the characters. Talk to me about the illustrations, the illustrator, and why you felt the need to include artwork.

As for why, I just thought a project like this would benefit from some visuals. I've always loved illustrated books, and you don't see it very much these days. I wanted this book to stand out and be different from all the other anthologies, and I felt that the illustrations would dovetail nicely with the stories and offer the reader something extra. The illustrations were done by an artist called Thomas Boatwright. He is mostly a cartoonist, but is very skilled. I've worked with him on other projects and knew he would be perfect for this. After I had the initial outlines by the contributors, I forwarded them to him and he interpreted them perfectly, capturing the essence of the stories in the illustrations wonderfully well. It is an added expense in the production of the book and makes formatting for print and eBook a much harder proposition, but like anything in this world, you get out what you put into it, and I feel along with the stories, it adds a touch of quality to the product.

5. As a writer and fan of horror, Colin - what frightens you?

Not a great deal to be honest. I'm kind of desensitized to most things these days. There's nothing supernatural or paranormal that scares me. It's the closer more personal things like losing my sight, or a family member, or getting dementia (my nan had Alzheimer's and that was horrific to watch) that scares me.

6. I understand that there will be more to read from City of Hell. What can you share about plans for the future?

There certainly will be more. I'll be opening submissions for Volume 2 of the anthology shortly after the launch of this first one. I intend to release 2 volumes a year (Until everyone gets sick of it!). I'm also currently in the outline stage of a couple of novellas in the City of Hell world. I do have plans to write a collaborative novel, but that is someway off. My aim is to create an enduring mythos that I can visit often, kind of like Robert E. Howard or H.P.Lovecraft with their respective worlds. I see it as a kind of playground that you can return to and play about in.

7. Where can readers go to learn more about City of Hell, the contributing authors, and even about your dark mind?

Thank you for asking. We have a dedicated website for City of Hell, which can be found at: www.cityofhellchronicles.com. You can also find links to all the contributors' websites on there. My own site is at: www.colinfbarnes.com and the publishing name that I'm putting CoH out under also has a website that will have news of new anthologies: www.anachronpress.com and submission opportunities for future projects.

About The City of Hell Authors

1. Genesis – by Colin F. Barnes.

This is the start of it all. Franklin Garrett, an old embittered clock-maker is pivotal in the bringing about of the destruction of humanity and the rise of the Great Maurr. This tale will take you from events just before Maurr's ascension to the beginnings of his domination. It's grisly, insane, and a little bit twisted.

2. Centipede Medical Report – by V.D Griesdoorn.

Our resident scientist Victoria Griesdoorn applies her specialist scientific background to give us a harrowing view into an autopsy-gone-wrong on one of Maurr's diabolical scouts: the gigantic centipede. The dispassionate and exacting detail of a scientist truly brings us the horror of this hideous creature.

3. The Door From Below – by Ren Warom.

This story, set in Hong Kong, follows the crazy band members of C.I.D as they struggle to deal with the creepy and sinister 'Stock Takers' as they come up from underground via diabolical doors direct from Maurr's dominion. Japcore Punk, Gore and terrifying monsters. What more can you want?

4. London Calling – by Kendall Grey.

A tale of hope and faith gone wrong. A young girl stumbles across a group of priests holding out from Maurr's minions in St. Peter's cathedral. Let's just say her stay isn't what she hoped for. A gruesome tale of purest horror, this story will have you wincing.

5. The Lucky Ones – by Anne C. Michaud.

When everything is taking away from you by Maurr's minions there's not a lot of options left. This is a tale of desolation, loneliness and final choices. A chilling tale with deep emotions, this will tug at your heart strings as well as your gag reflex.

6. The Final Passage – by Belinda Frisch.

This take place inside the City of Hell itself. You'll get a glimpse of the horrific tortures that Maurr has applied to mankind. Read the terror as he instructs his hybrid creatures to use humans to breed hybrids and work in the 'social stomach' rooms. This is a tale of one family's desire to escape; and their willingness to do anything to get away from the diabolical City of Hell.

7. The Nursery – by Amy L. Overley.

Another story that takes us inside the gigantic City of Hell. This time we see what happens when a lone survivor is forced to fight against the giant soldier-ants and evil hybrids. A terrifying story at all levels, you'll be rooting for the protagonist as she battles against Maurr's irresistible influence.

8. Sanguine – by V.D. Griesdoorn.

Victoria rounds up our first volume with a tale about blood. That life force that becomes so precious. Set in Moscow, we follow the events of the young protagonist as she struggles to stay alive and look after the last few remaining survivors in an old hospital. Evil is everywhere, but the job still needs to be done. Can she succeed?

7 Deadly Questions with author Jessica McHugh

1. Your novel Rabbits In The Garden has everything a good horror novel should – thrills, chills, a mystery to unravel, and even an asylum. The story centers on a 12-year-old girl, Avery Norton, and her discovery of a secret crypt in the basement of her home. Talk to me about the challenges of having a 12-year old be the main character in a story written for adults and with adult themes.

Luckily, I'd had some experience in writing young characters by the time I wrote "Rabbits in the Garden". I learned a thing or two while writing my Arthurian Legend novel, "Camelot Lost". The characters of Mordred and Amr (King Arthur's sons) are young children in a violently ambitious world. Similarly, the character of Delaney Lortal in my novel "Song of Eidolons" is childlike, despite being 22. Until that age, she'd never been outside her grandfather's house, which made her an innocent character to suddenly barrage with the world's rough edges. I find 'youth in turmoil' very fun to write because I remember being a youth in turmoil. Although I have no firsthand experience with stumbling upon a basement full of corpses, I can surmise how my 12 year old mind and body might react to such a sight. I can surmise how I'd react if a bunch of adults were telling me I was crazy. Even if I was 100% sure I was sane, they are adults and they know more than me. Maybe I wasn't 100% sure. Maybe they saw something in me I just couldn't see…Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Characters like Avery Norton are absolutely real to me while I'm writing them, so I'll admit I feel a bit bad about what I put them through. But I like to think it makes them stronger by the end.

 2. Setting plays a critical role in your story. Martha's Vineyard is rarely associated with darkness or evil. How did the setting for Rabbits in the Garden help you develop the story?

A good portion of "Rabbits in the Garden" came straight from a dream. It was one of those magical dreams that had a beginning, middle, and end, and I actually didn't change a lot of the plot as I dreamt it. Although I'm not versed in the history of the decade, I woke up knowing it was based in the 1950s. Although the setting in the dream wasn't clear, it seemed a sweet, sleepy place where horror and sorrow couldn't trespass—and did. Martha's Vineyard was my first, last, and only choice. I'd actually been wanting to set a story there for quite a while, as I spent many childhood vacations there. My mother's side of the family is from Martha's Vineyard, so while I had many vivid memories I wanted to use, I also interviewed my mother, aunts, and uncles about their childhoods. Those stories really breathed life into "Rabbits in the Garden". Martha's Vineyard is a beautiful place, but it can be quite pricey. So, if someone wants a glimpse of the island but doesn't want to spend a lot of money, read "Rabbits in the Garden". It's a lot cheaper.

As for choosing Taunton Asylum, there really wasn't any choice in that either. It turned out to be something of a spook story on Martha's Vineyard and the Massachusetts mainland. Even my father growing up in Ashland had heard tales of Taunton. Sometimes I have to try to find the perfect setting for my stories. Sometimes they find me. "Rabbits in the Garden" unfolded itself in the way every writer hopes.

 3. The relationship between Avery and her mother plays a pivotal role in the story. How do you incorporate your own personal relationships into those of your characters?

First off, I'd like to state that my mother is nothing like Faye Norton. She's not nearly as scary and she's way less judgmental. Luckily, no one I've met is like Faye Norton. As for my characters' relationships, I don't usually set out to base them on real life ones. I will put in personal touches based on real life events or conversations though. For example, I've never set out to capture the relationship between my mom and me, but elements sometimes come out. I actually explore the parent/child dynamic quite a bit, but I don't stick to personal experiences. I like to explore all kinds, especially the kinds I don't have.

When it comes to inventing characters, I'm a people-watcher. It sounds a tad creepy, yes, but it helps me develop my characters. There are so many different personalities and relationships in the world, and it's much more fun to venture beyond my own.

4. Sanity is also central to Rabbits in the Garden. As a horror writer myself I am often asked about my own sanity. Do you think writing horror makes us more or less likely to cross that line?

Absolutely. I think we have to be willing to cross that line. A lot of people might think I'm a little wrong in the head; a lot of people ask me how I'm able to sleep at night. It's something that non-writers don't automatically understand. Writing is playtime to me. I can't be afraid there. Even though I try to scare myself when I write horror, ultimately, I can't be afraid. Writing allows me to do anything I want without consequence. It also allow me to do things I'd never want to do…but some might. It goes back to my love for writing characters that aren't anything like me. I understand the "insanity" label because it does sound a bit like I have D.I.D., but I don't believe "sane" and "insane" apply to writers, especially horror writers. We can't be insane because we make a conscious decision to delve into the darkness and let it bleed across the page.

I think everyone has those twisted thoughts inside, but some people are just too timid to expose it. And if you're not an artist, why would you want to expose it? I'll admit I had some reservations at the beginning of my writing career. A lot of horror I wrote when I was 19 is incredibly tame compared to the horror I'm writing at 29. Pieces of "Rabbits" were actually written when I was 21 as part of a different story, one I stopped writing because the gory bits freaked me out. I don't have that problem anymore, especially after writing my most recent novel, "PINS". After describing murder scenes in "PINS" to my husband, he looks at me like I've really lost it. I feel like I've finally found it.

There's a freedom in it, and yes, it's scary. But to a horror writer, that's the goal.

 5. Describe your personal writing space.

Inspired by my favorite author, Roald Dahl, I created my own little Writing Hut. It's actually just a 2nd bedroom, but once you wade in through the notebooks and binders and endless sea of drained pens, there's no doubt it's a writer's cluttered little world. But I will write anywhere. At any time. I carry a few pens and notebooks in my purse, but I've scrawled passages in lipliner on my arms and legs more than a few times.

 6. What is the last book you read that completely blew you away?

One was "Crooked Little Vein" by Warren Ellis. It was so bizarre, and it was so frank about being bizarre. I tore through it, and I'm sure I will at least twenty more times. The other was a book called "100 Jolts" by Michael A. Arnzen. It's an anthology of one hundred pieces of flash horror. I did a sci-fi/fantasy/horror panel with Michael at the Frostburg Small Press Festival this year and I got the chance to learn a little bit about his style. This past year I've developed a great love for flash fiction, especially horror flash, and the pieces in "100 Jolts" are some of the finest I've ever read. It's disgusting. It's hilarious. It's very very cool.

 7. Where can people go to learn more about you and your work?

I spend most of my time at my official author page on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/author.Jessic... , but I also chill at my blog "No Vacation from Speculation" at http://mcnito.blogspot.com. www.JessicaMcHughBooks.com is a great place to check out excerpts from my books, watch my trailers, and check out my gallery. My books are available in print and ebook on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and the various other booksellers across the web, but feel free to contact me through any of my sites or @theJessMcHugh on Twitter with any questions.

About Jessica

Jessica McHugh is an author of speculative fiction that spans the genre from horror and alternate history to epic fantasy. A prolific writer, she has devoted herself to novels, short stories, poetry, and playwriting. She has had ten books published in three years, including "Rabbits in the Garden", "The Sky: The World" and the first three installments in her "Tales of Dominhydor" series.

More info on Jessica's speculations and publications can be found at JessicaMcHughBooks.com.

7 Deadly Questions Returns with Author Jessica McHugh

Everybody's favorite author interview series makes its triumphant return on Wednesday, November 24 with horror writer Jessica McHugh answering questions about her truly creepy tale Rabbits in the Garden.

McHugh is an author of speculative fiction that spans the genre from horror and alternate history to epic fantasy. A prolific writer, she has devoted herself to novels, short stories, novellas, and even playwriting. She has had ten books published in three years, including "Song of Eidolons", "The Sky: The World", "Rabbits in the Garden", and the first three installments in her "Tales of Dominhydor" series.

With 7 Deadly Questions you'll get up close and personal with rising stars in the horror, thriller, urban fantasy, science-fiction and mystery genres. New interviews are posted each Wednesday. Plus, thanks to a partnership with DarkMediaCity, the 7 Deadly Questions interviews are also posted out on their social website.

If you know of an author who should be "put to the question" (well – put to 7 questions, actually!) feel free to drop me a line on twitter @raevanswrites.  I'm glad to be back and have a line-up of authors scheduled that will be sure to entertain, inspire, and creep you out!

Asylum Lake is knocking on the door of the Amazon Kindle Top 100 List!

I received some great news last night – thanks to a slew of sales over the last 48 hours my novel Asylum Lake has skyrocketed up the list on Amazon Kindle.  It's now listed at #153 and with a solid push there is a chance, albeit slight, that it could crack the Top 100 list! (it is also currenbtly listed at #4 on the Kindle Horror Charts and #43 on the Kindle Mystery/Thriller chart).

So what do i need from the cosmos? I need the stars to align perfectly through word-of-mouth with friends, fans, and family alike helping me spread the message and push for more sales.  If you've followed followed my blog over the last few months you know that I compare selling books as an Indie Author to slinging crack rock ont he corner and even prostituting myself – so I have no problem begging for help to reach this milestone.

Asylum Lake is available on Kindle for only $.99! CLICK HERE for the link. if you don;t own a Kindle but still want to support me and my writing (or just purchase a great book as a gift for an avid reader) you can CLICK HERE to purchase an autographed print copy for only $15. Fonally, you can CLICK HERE to purchase Asylum Lake for only $.99 on NOOK.

Thanks again for your comments and support with Asylum Lake. I look forward to continued thrills and chills flowing from my dark mind to the pages (and pixels) of more novels in the near and distant future.

Asylum Lake is knoocking on the door of the Amazon Kindle Top 100 List!

I received some great news last night – thanks to a slew of sales over the last 48 hours my novel Asylum Lake has skyrocketed up the list on Amazon Kindle.  It's now listed at #153 and with a solid push there is a chance, albeit slight, that it could crack the Top 100 list! (it is also currenbtly listed at #4 on the Kindle Horror Charts and #43 on the Kindle Mystery/Thriller chart).

So what do i need from the cosmos? I need the stars to align perfectly through word-of-mouth with friends, fans, and family alike helping me spread the message and push for more sales.  If you've followed followed my blog over the last few months you know that I compare selling books as an Indie Author to slinging crack rock ont he corner and even prostituting myself – so I have no problem begging for help to reach this milestone.

Asylum Lake is available on Kindle for only $.99! CLICK HERE for the link. if you don;t own a Kindle but still want to support me and my writing (or just purchase a great book as a gift for an avid reader) you can CLICK HERE to purchase an autographed print copy for only $15. Fonally, you can CLICK HERE to purchase Asylum Lake for only $.99 on NOOK.

Thanks again for your comments and support with Asylum Lake. I look forward to continued thrills and chills flowing from my dark mind to the pages (and pixels) of more novels in the near and distant future.

'Tis the season for thrills and chills!

Things Aren't Right: Guest Post by Jessica McHugh

When I was nine years old, the right side of my face was torn to meaty ribbons, thanks to a gravel road and a loose bicycle wheel. The face wasn't that great to begin with, so it wasn't a huge tragedy to anyone else, but to me it was the impetus of a prominent fear in my life.

I was on Martha's Vineyard with my family, most of which were out for the day while I helped my grandfather repair an old bike. I took great pride in helping him, as my brothers were usually chosen for those types of tasks. In truth, the only repair I really had a hand in was the screwing on of the front wheel. (Have you figured out whose fault the accident was yet?)

After I got the wheel in place, I took the bike out for a test ride. Everything was going great—until I popped a wheelie and off popped the wheelie. The bike fork crashed to the road, throwing me face-first to the gravel. I skidded a few feet and the bike toppled behind me. I lay there for several minutes, disoriented, afraid to touch my burning face. I finally worked up the courage to dab the wounds, drawing back fingertips covered in blood and gravel. I screamed and cried, but no one came…except for my grandparents' cat, who soon realized the bawling, bloody child in the road did not have food and pranced away. My grandmother eventually heard my cries and came to my rescue. In hindsight, I probably could have walked inside and saved myself the sore throat.

My face healed perfectly, but disfigurement became a worry that penetrated my sleep and made me gasp at movies when other might giggle. Whether it's tooth loss, eye gouging, or a simple flaying of the face (and in many of my horror stories, flaying is simple) I find facial disfigurement to be one of the most terrifying things that can happen to a person. It's the sub-category of a fear that I believe to be universal: the "Things Aren't Right" fear. Whether it's a facial deformity or otherwise, I think everyone fears when things just don't look "right" or "normal".

There are three main characters in my YA horror novella "Danny Marble & the Application for Non-Scary Things" that fall under that category. 1. The Rabbit without a Face, 2. The Legless Clown, and 3. The Cat with the Broken Teeth. These disfigured characters came to me during a night of terror-induced insomnia. After watching Guillermo del Toro's "The Orphanage", I had terrible nightmares (despite the fact that the movie wasn't that scary). The worst part about having such a vivid imagination is the unconscious ability to turn something that was only slightly creepy into a sleep-stealing horror show.

Nightmares used to wreck me until I started writing horror. That's when I learned that if I could find a way to make fear playful, I could conquer it. When I was a kid, the evil book in "The Care Bears Movie" terrified me, so I had it tattooed on my leg in vibrant colors. Likewise, I play with my fears through my writing. Even when half my face is hamburger and "Things Aren't Right", I can turn fear into whimsy. I can make it playful and personal.

I keep my terror close. That way, it can't sneak up on me.

 

About Jessica

Jessica McHugh is an author of speculative fiction that spans the genre from horror and alternate history to epic fantasy. A prolific writer, she has devoted herself to novels, short stories, poetry, and playwriting. She has had ten books published in three years, including "Rabbits in the Garden", "The Sky: The World" and the first three installments in her "Tales of Dominhydor" series. More info on Jessica's speculations and publications can be found at JessicaMcHughBooks.com.

http://www.JessicaMcHughBooks.com
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Coffin Hope Blog Tour: Feast Your Eyes On FLIGHT – My New Zombie project.

U.S. Air Marshal Liz Downie thought she had lucked out with her assignment – a half-empty red eye from London to the states. The passengers – an odd assortment of State Department staffers freshly plucked from the embattled U.S. Embassy in Iraq. These arent your usual friendly skies, however. Tucked into the passenger jet's shadowy cargo hold hides a secret the U.S. Military will do anything to protect – and Liz Downie everything to stop.

Where do you run when you are 33,000 feet in the air?

Flight

The new novel from R. A. Evans

Scheduled for take-off soon

PROLOGUE

Mr. President, we have a situation.

CHAPTER  1

Tomas leaned forward in his chair and placed the DVD on his supervisor's desk.  Sitting back, he said, "We can play it whenever you're ready."

Bill Shaw glanced at the DVD then quickly looked away, the way some people do when driving past a bad accident.  After nearly fifteen years heading up the F.B.I.'s  Special Investigations unit there wasn't much the law enforcement agent hadn't seen. Today, however, his instincts were telling him that things were about to get very interesting. "Just what do these assholes think they were trying to accomplish, anyway?"

Fateo looked at him and said softly "Did, not do, I think.  Since they're all dead, the past tense seems appropriate."

Shaw bowed his head briefly.  "All right, past tense, then, and all due respect to the departed.  But, what were they up to in that lab?"

"I really can't say.  I've read the project file, same as you, but I don't have the scientific background to make much sense out of it.  The only thing I recognized was sleep deprivation, and I think that's because I heard it once in an old episode of HOUSE.  You're going to need someone with a medical background if you want anything like a useful answer."

"That's in the works even as we speak," Shaw told him.  "I've got a couple of doctors with security clearances on loan from John's Hopkins.  They're downstairs going over the file now. I told them I wanted a preliminary assessment before close of business today.  Naturally, they have no idea of any connection between the file and . . . what happened in Boston overnight."

Fateo nodded wearily. There were lines of strain and fatigue in his face that Shaw  had never seen there before. Tomas was a smallish man, no more than 5'8″, with a slightly olive complexion.  At just over thirty, he moved with the economy and unconscious grace of a matador– and, in Spanish, matador means nothing more than killer.

There was no bravado about Fateo, no machismo.  Sit next to this well-dressed, carefully groomed man on an airplane and you would have no idea you were coming across anything special — unless you took a good look at the brown eyes, which, Shaw thought, contained all the warmth of a couple of pennies left out in a November rain.

He tried not to use Fateo much.  Most of what crossed Shaw's desk involved run-of-the-mill investigations of scientific fraud, and sending someone like Fateo after a government-funded cancer researcher suspected of fudging his data was akin to using a leopard for chasing down runaway lab rats — it offended Shaw's sense of proportion.  When he had been awakened by the telephone at 5:19 that morning with the first report of what had been found at the lab in Boston, Shaw had realized very quickly who he needed.  He had called Fateo at 5:33.

And now it was just past two in the afternoon and here was Fateo sitting across from his desk and there, in the middle of the desk, was the video Fateo had been instructed to make.

Shaw had asked for an oral report first, and Fateo had provided one that lasted all of three minutes.  While listening to the soft, precise voice, Shaw had experienced an odd physical sensation.

He was a big man, Shaw was, and about thirty-five pounds of it was fat.  As a result, summer was hard on him.  The excess weight meant that he was usually warm, even in air-conditioned environments.  And here it was June, in Washington, even more humid than usual, with the cranky government air conditioning working erratically at best and Shaw was cold.  Fateo had been speaking for less than thirty seconds when Shaw had begun to feel as if ice crystals were forming in his bloodstream.

Shaw wondered if he would ever feel warm again.

He looked back to the DVD that lay on his desk like a patient cobra.  Something printed on the DVD's paper sleeve caught his eye.  "Did you buy the disc yourself? It's not department issue."

Fateo shrugged.  "I brought it from home.  It had a couple of episodes of Desperate Housewives on it, but I've already watched them.  I'll get reimbursed out of petty cash.  Or, if you're feeling stingy this month, consider it my contribution toward the budget deficit."

"You ever think of upgrading to a camera that records right to the hard drive or a memory card?"

"Not really."

"Why?"

"Discs got better picture fidelity.  Plus they fit into my dvd player a hell of a lot easier than a fuckin' memory card."

McGraw shook his head, pleased to be one up on Fateo.  "Not true," he said.  "Saw an article in my dentist's waiting room a couple of weeks ago.  In that place, the walls are so thin, you read anything just to keep from listening to the sound of the drill going in the next room.  Anyway, this was in one of those consumer magazines.  It said that they had run tests on the kind of picture you get from the various grades of recording media, and they found that the differences between the lowest grade and the highest grade of brand-name DVD's and SD memory-cards were negligible and couldn't be seen by the naked eye.  Can you believe it?  Article said that these more expensive 'high grade' discs and cards were just a marketing gimmick to make more money for the manufacturers."

Fateo nodded a couple of times and looked down at the carpet.  "You're stalling, aren't you?"

Shaw was silent for several seconds.  "Yeah, you're right.  I guess I am."

"If you don't want to look at it, it's no skin off my tender parts.  I can write you up a detailed summary, if that's what you'd prefer."

"No, it's good of you to offer, but we both know that won't wash.  I've got a report to put together, and I've got a feeling it's going to prompt a lot of questions from upstairs that I'll have to answer later.  If you could stand to make the fucking thing, I guess I can stand to watch it."

Fateo shrugged.  "Up to you."

"Go ahead and cue it up, will you?"  Shaw's tone of voice was not very different from the one you hear in the gas chamber just after the warden asks "Do you have anything to say before sentence is carried out"?

Against the far wall was a credenza containing a DVD player and a 32-inch flat screen.  Fateo inserted the disc and picked up the remote control.  He looked at Shaw as if giving him one last chance to back out.  "Okay?"

Fateo pointed the remote control at the TV and pushed a button.  The LCD came to life with a shot of a low red-brick building as seen from across the street.  Fateo said, "I'll give you a running commentary, all right?  There's nothing on the soundtrack.  Nobody in there was making any noise by the time I arrived."

"All right, fine."  Shaw's eyes never left the screen.  After a moment he said, "It looks more like a school than a lab under government contract."

Fateo nodded.  "Used to be a high school gym.  Our Lady of Perpetual Motion, or something."  A thoroughly lapsed Catholic, Fateo was irreverent as a reflex.  "The diocese closed the place down a few years ago, due to low enrollment.  They tore out the bleachers, put in a bunch of interior walls over the basketball court, and rented it out to Uncle Sam."

The camera's eye had moved close to the front double door of the building, which was mostly glass reinforced by what looked like crosshatched chicken wire, when Shaw suddenly said "Wait.  Run it back a little, will you, and then let it go forward again."

As the camera approached the door again, Shaw said "Stop.  Go back just a hair and freeze frame.  Okay, see that puddle on the concrete just to the right of the door?  What is that?  We haven't had rain all week."

Fateo was looking at the floor again.  "It's vomit," he said quietly.  "A small pool of human vomit."

Shaw sat up straighter.  "Did one of the victims get outside?  Could it have come from one of the subjects?  Has it been sent to a lab for analysis?"

Fateo sounded both irritated and embarrassed as he said, "No, no one got outside, as far as I can tell, and no, the puke has not been sent to a lab."

"Why the hell not?  It might be–"

"Because it's mine."

"Yours?"

"I took a walk through the place without the camera the first time.  I wanted to know what I was dealing with.  There might have been some kind of chemical or biological hazard — how would I know?  What you gave me over the phone was pretty sketchy.  You said we had dead people, but nothing about how they died.  If it was murder, maybe the perp was still on the premises.  In any event, I wanted to be able to move fast if I had to, so I left the camera in my car."

"And what happened?"  Shaw's tone was not unkind.

"It was murder, all right, and that's putting it mildly, but whoever did it was long gone.  Once I figured that out, I went back out to the car to get the camera.  On the way, I had my little accident just outside the front door.  I could have made it to a restroom inside, probably, but I didn't want to contaminate the crime scene by tossing my cookies all over it."

Shaw tried to get his mind around the idea that Fateo had encountered something in that lab that had made him vomit in revulsion.  People like Fateo weren't supposed to do things like that.

Shaw thought he had a pretty good idea about the sort of man Fateo was; he'd known him for four years, and had access to his personnel file, as well.

Even more important, Shaw had a son-in-law who had served in Afghanistan after 9/11.

***

Labor Day weekend, four years earlier:

Shaw, wearing a well-stained apron that says "You can't beat my meat" is gingerly placing raw hamburgers in rows across his hot barbecue grill.  Without looking up, he says to the tall man leaning against the nearby deck railing, "You were with Naval Intelligence, weren't you, Jack?"

Jack Norton, who is married to Shaw's eldest daughter, swallows a mouthful of potato chips and smiles slightly.  "Yeah, it seemed like pretty good duty at the time they offered it, especially if you wanted to avoid getting shot at.  But if I'd known up front about all the bullshit involved, I might've taken my chances in combat."

"While you were over there, did you ever run across a guy named Tomas Fateo?"

Norton's eyes narrow, and the smile vanishes from his face.  After a moment he asks, "Did he serve with the SEALS?"

"So I understand, yeah."

"No, I never met him."  The tone of voice does not encourage further discussion.

"You say you've never met him, but yet you knew right away that he was in the SEALs?"

The younger man sighs a little.  Then he shrugs and says, "He'd be mentioned sometimes in reports that would pass through our office."  Norton looks at his father-in-law.  "What do you care about this guy, Bill?"

"The Department hired him last week, and he's been assigned to my office as a field investigator, starting Tuesday.  I like to know about the people who work for me, so I had his file sent over."

Shaw fusses with the grill a little more.  "Fella's had a varied career in government service, I'll say that much.  Two years undercover with DEA followed by ATF for three or four years.  Most recently, he's been with Charles Raven's private security outfit  – BlackBird I think they call it. The one that's been making headlines in the Middle East."

"So, what's the deal with him?  He keeps fucking up and getting canned?"

"Nope, he's never been fired, far as I can tell.  He keeps transferring out.  And, you know what?  Every one of his supervisors write him great evals, really outstanding — even while they're approving the guy's request for transfer."

Norton shrugs.  "If you've seen his file, what more do you need?"

"Nothing, I guess.  But I got kind of curious when I saw that his service record had been expunged."

Norton nods, as if he finds this unsurprising.

"I mean, there are a few bits and pieces that somebody missed," Shaw says.  "A copy of an Honorable Discharge from the Navy, a couple of references to 'Overseas service, Indian Ocean,' and one passing mention of 'Navy special warfare units.'  And that's about it."

There is silence between the two men that lasts long enough for Shaw to apply generous amounts of salt and pepper to the burgers he has grilling.  Finally, Norton says, "I'm not supposed to talk about that stuff.  A lot of it is still classified, even after all this time."

"What stuff might that be, Jack?"

"Special Ops stuff.  Like a lot of the SEAL missions."  Three or four seconds go by before Norton adds, "And like… SWARM."

Shaw blinks a couple of times.  "I see," he says quietly.  His war was in Vietnam, not Afghanistan — but even he has heard rumors of the CIA's SWARM Project.

Shaw says nothing more about it, but during the meal that follows, he finds Norton's eyes on him whenever he happens to look in his son-in-law's direction.

Later, Shaw is enjoying a post-dinner beer and watching his grandchildren tear-assing around the back yard when Norton, carrying his own can of beer, wanders over.  They stand side by side, watching the kids in a companionable silence.

Suddenly, Norton says, "Your newest employee did two tours chasing Bin Laden through the mountains in Afghanistan, Bill.  He volunteered for the second one, but that's not unusual among Spec Op types.  They don't go through the hell of all that training just so they can sit around a Pentagon office, counting paper clips.  They tend to be what you might call highly motivated."

"Or maybe they're just crazy," Shaw says dryly.

Norton doesn't smile.  "Could be that they are.  To carry out the kinds of missions those guys do, maybe being crazy helps."  He takes a swallow of Coors.  "Anyway, Fateo's first tour was typical SEAL stuff: raids, ambushes, recon patrols — the usual shit.  Then some spook from The Company talked him into SWARM.  He did his second tour with them, operating mostly out of I Corps."

"Was SWARM really as sinister as the news reports made out, Jack?  I seem to recall CNN making it sound like we were dancing precariously close to the edge of the Geneva Convention over there."

"You don't believe everything you see on TV, do you?"  Norton's tone coats the words in bitter irony.  "Assassination was part of it, that's true.  But it wasn't the whole ball game, not by any means.  See, the basic idea was to fuck up the Taliban.  Sometimes, Intelligence would identify somebody who was a big wheel, and a team would be sent in after him."

"What was considered a 'team?'"

"Generally two American Spec Op types, and three or four locals.  Fateo was partnered with a Green Beret, name of . . . some Polack guy . . . Symanski, that's right, Carl Symanski.  Him and Fateo and four Afghani's.  Best team in I Corps, or so I heard."

"And these bad-asses would do what, exactly?"

"Whatever they were told to do.  Sometimes, the mission was to locate the identified target and take him out. But, other times, the orders would be to snatch some guy, bring him back, then turn him over for interrogation by our less scrupulous allies in Egypt."

Norton pauses, staring at his beer can as if the contents had suddenly turned bitter.  "Tell you this much, Bill," he says bleakly, "no Taliban  suspect who ended up in one of those dark caves in the middle of the Egyptian desert was ever heard from again, and the luckiest of those poor bastards were the ones who broke early."

Shaw nods acknowledgement in the silence that follows.  Thinking that his son-in-law's tale is done, he is about to thank him when Norton suddenly says, "It was early in '02, I think, when the word came down about the new 'psywar offensive.'  The people in SWARM were assigned to play a major role in it."

Shaw's brow furrows.  "Psychological warfare?  Spreading leaflets around — 'Surrender now, you will receive good treatment'– that kind of thing?  Why would they waste special ops guys on a boy scout job like that?"

Norton shakes his head.  "There's all kinds of psychological warfare, Bill.  What they had in mind for the SWARM teams . . . well, when the other side does it, we usually call it terrorism."

Shaw's voice is carefully neutral as he says, "I see.  Or, rather, I don't see."

"Look — most Afghans are devoutly religious, right?  Especially the Taliban.  They take the Koran pretty seriously – sometimes too much so.  You don't wipe out something like 2,000 years of tradition with a couple of decades of Coca-Cola and MTV, you know?"

"Sure," Shaw says.  "Makes sense."

"So, the Quran teaches that when somebody dies, you have to bury the body within twenty-four hours and intact, with all of its . . . parts.  Otherwise, the dead guy's soul can't find peace and it's doomed to wander the earth forever."

"The light begins to dawn," Shaw says.  "So these SWARM teams –"

"– Would sometimes be sent after a particular guy, with instructions to go in at night, find him, hit him, and then leave the body near his village where it was sure to be discovered the next morning.  And when the guy was found, he'd be missing a random body part or organ — usually the eyes or testicles, for reasons I can't remember."

"And this stuff was supposed to help us win the war, somehow?"

Norton shrugs.  "It was supposed to send a message to the locals: Be careful how much help you give to the Taliban, or we might come for you some dark night.  And if we do, we bring not only death, but damnation."

Shaw shakes his head in wonder.  "Damnation.  Jesus."

A few moments go by before Norton says, "One more thing, Bill: you and me, we never had this conversation."

"What conversation?"

***

Shaw was well aware that he was sitting across from a man who was capable of breaking somebody's neck with his bare hands and then cutting the eyes out of the corpse.  Fateo, who had done these things, and worse, yet managed somehow to retain his sanity, had seen something in that lab which had caused him to vomit in disgust.

Mother of God, Shaw thought, I knew it was going to be bad, but if it made Fateo throw up then it is so far beyond bad that I haven't got the words for it.  I just know that I don't want to see it. But he knew he had to see it.

And so, after a deep breath and a silent thanks to whatever gods there are that he had been too busy to have lunch, he did.

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Breaking News: Asylum Lake Continues to Leave Readers with Nightmares

I am interrupting the scheduled Coffin Hop programming for this breaking news. My novel Asylum Lake has received yet another 5-Star review. The very talented reviewers at Book Sake have posted their review and giveaway offer and I couldn't be happier with the results (review is also up on Amazon, Barnes & Noble, and Goodreads).

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