Ryan C. Thomas's Blog, page 5
February 23, 2011
Born To Bleed coming soon
Just received the contract for the sequel to The Summer I Died. So yes, Born To Bleed will be coming sometime soon.I will keep everyone posted.
Also, some interesting news: Permuted is releasing my zombie/loss of innocence novel, HISSERS in both AUDIO BOOK format and Paperback (as well as e-book, I believe). Look for it this summer. It'll sure be interesting to hear someone reading my book out loud.
My latest story, The Kleptos, appears in Grand Mal Press's anthology ALIEN ABERRATIONS. Along with stories from David Dunwoody, Zoot Campbell, Randy Chandler, Gregory L. Norris, and more.
Enjoy.
Also, some interesting news: Permuted is releasing my zombie/loss of innocence novel, HISSERS in both AUDIO BOOK format and Paperback (as well as e-book, I believe). Look for it this summer. It'll sure be interesting to hear someone reading my book out loud.
My latest story, The Kleptos, appears in Grand Mal Press's anthology ALIEN ABERRATIONS. Along with stories from David Dunwoody, Zoot Campbell, Randy Chandler, Gregory L. Norris, and more.
Enjoy.
June 1, 2010
Excerpt from BORN TO BLEED (the sequel to The Summer I Died)
Hi all,
I am new to this place and need to thank Tressa for drawing me in. As it seems some of you have read my first book I thought I'd be an egomaniac and throw up an excerpt from the yet-unpublished sequel to see what you think. I hope to have some more blogs up when I get a chance. Thanks!
----------------
Beside me, Gabe gurgled and I could hear him taking a piss. Human’s let out their bowels when they die but I tried not to think about it. Somewhere out near the foothills I heard a coyote howl. It was like a primeval siren in the dessert night, some kind of battle cry that stood my hairs on end. For a second my brain was able to grasp the severity of my situation, how I was going to die out here in this bleak dessert where my parents would never find me. Victoria, who’d already been violated in the worst way possible, would probably end up in a similar situation. And For what? I still had no idea. I needed to keep him talking, wait for a moment that would give me an upper hand. I couldn’t believe, wouldn’t believe, that after all I’d been through, after surviving Skinny Man, I’d get killed by a scumbag like Walt.
“You want to know something about your friend, about that girlie in there? I think she came. Yeah, I think she liked it. Ain’t that a killer?”
It was all I could do to keep digging and not rush at him. My hand gripped the shaft of the shovel so tightly I could see the whites of my knuckles in the darkness.
“That’s right,” he continued. “Funny how bitches have them rape fantasies. They all like it, like to be forced into it. Want you to shove yourself into them as they scream and hit you and say no no no. But they like it, oh yes they do. Fuck a bitch enough times she’ll tell you eventually how she wants to be taken by force. I’d recommend you try yourself some rape, but shit, only thing you’re gonna shove your meat into is worms. Now don’t you look at me like that. Keep that shovel moving.”
I wouldn’t know anything about rough sex, not having slept with many girls, but I sure as shit knew Walt had a skewed view of how women work. Tooth used to tell me that some girls liked to engage in weird fantasies where some strange man would have his way with them, but the thing is, it was all done in the midst of fun and respect and trust. What had been done to Victoria was evil. The result of a sickness that too many men in this world take pride in, a disconnect that they use to give themselves power over a gender they perceive as weak. That’s all it is in the end, a pathetic and weak display of cowardice for a cheap thrill. I hoped Walt and his idiot friends burned in hell for it.
“How far down is that,” he asked me. “Four feet? That’s good enough, it’ll cover over. Drop the shovel.”
I looked up at Walt, saw the moon in the sky behind him, like a rind of rotted cantaloupe keeping watch over us. Is this it, I wondered. I’ll hear a loud bang and then black will overtake me?
“Was it good for you?” I asked.
“Nah. I’m impatient, and you took a bit longer than I expected.”
“You said I was a good digger.”
“I say a lot of shit. Don’t mean I always agree with it. You dig like my grandma taking a shit—slow and hopeful, and in the end all you expel is hot air.”
“She must have been a lovely lady.”
“Best pork ribs this side of Texas. But you tell me…how’s it feel to be standing in your own grave?”
“Don’t suppose you’d take money or anything? Forget about everything that happened here tonight. What’s your price?”
“Now that is a sad sight, a man begging for his life with money he can’t possibly have. My price? There’s more zeros in my price than I’m even able count.”
“Then that’s works in my favor since I’m betting you can’t count beyond two.”
He paused. Then: “You know, I’ve killed a dozen men in my day, and only two had the balls you got, kid. But what amazes me about having balls is that it brings out the comedian in people. It’s pretty damn cheap and erases any sense of bravado you could show me in your final seconds. I mean, if you wanted me to feel like you were truly tough, spitting at me or giving me the finger would go a lot further. But bad jokes just get lost on the wind.”
“So I’ll take that as yes, you can’t count.”
“I’m getting paid well for this. More than you can give me. You know every time Bob grunted when he fucked that bitch in there…imagine a thousand dollars for every one. I stopped counting after one hundred. Besides,” he patted his jacket pocket and I heard keys jingle, “I got your car now so I’ll consider that your payment.”
I debated telling him about the stupidity of driving around in a pinstriped Camaro that would sooner or later be reported missing by either my parents or Barry or someone, but realized it may be the only way he ever got caught.
“Now,” he said, “since you’re such a funny guy, I’m changing how we do this.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that I’m not gonna shoot you. See, not only have I never seen a man dig his own grave, but I ain’t never seen one get buried alive either. I want you totally conscious when I do this.” He gave one of those smirks that’s supposed to convey his cleverness but really just made him look like an imbecile. “So do me a kindness and toss the shovel to the side. Then get on your stomach.”
My mind was racing, my eyes scanning my surroundings. I couldn’t think of any way out of this short of just rushing him and taking a bullet in the stomach. Probably wouldn’t kill me immediately but at least I wouldn’t be focused on suffocating under four feet of dirt.
Now would be a good time for some help, Tooth, I thought. If you’re up there looking down and haven’t pissed off the big guy, I could use a distraction.
“Hey, there’s no invitation coming. Toss the shovel down or I shoot your kneecaps.”
“But you just said—“
“Forget what I say, just do as I command!”
“Don’t I get any last words?”
“No. Lay down.” He held his free hand out and motioned for me to lay the shovel down.
That mosquito that had been flittering around Walt’s head landed on his nose.
It sat like a witch’s mole on the bulbous flesh.
I slid my hand around the top of the shovel’s haft. “Fine. Here.”
C’mon, bite him, I thought.
It was a subconscious move on his part. A meaningless little swipe at the pest trying to suck his blood. But like last time, he used the gun to wave it away.
I launched the shovel at him.
“Fuck!” he yelled as he tried to dodge it.
It hit him in square in the face. He staggered back and raised the gun.
I was out of the hole and charging. There was a loud bang and something whizzed by my ear. I slid into his legs like someone stealing bases.
He came down on top of me and I wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed for all I was worth.
He kicked and tried to get the gun around to my body but I caught his wrist and jammed my thumb into the tender spot between his tendons. He lost the grip on the gun and let it dangle on his finger by the trigger guard. “Motherfucker!”
My arms blazed with pain as I tightened my grip around his windpipe.
The gun came up handle-first and struck me in my broken nose, making my eyes tear up. It was such an intense pain I almost let go of him to roll over and wail. But I kept squeezing, kept telling myself it was either that or die.
Walt was bigger than me by at least sixty pounds, so he finally stood up, taking me with him. I wrapped my legs around him and kicked him in the groin, now hanging on like a kid getting a piggyback ride.
With a mighty grunt he threw himself down on top of me, knocking the wind from my lungs.
When we landed he dropped the gun. I reached out and grabbed it, gasping for breath, just as his size twelve boot caught me in the ribs and rolled me back several feet.
I am new to this place and need to thank Tressa for drawing me in. As it seems some of you have read my first book I thought I'd be an egomaniac and throw up an excerpt from the yet-unpublished sequel to see what you think. I hope to have some more blogs up when I get a chance. Thanks!
----------------
Beside me, Gabe gurgled and I could hear him taking a piss. Human’s let out their bowels when they die but I tried not to think about it. Somewhere out near the foothills I heard a coyote howl. It was like a primeval siren in the dessert night, some kind of battle cry that stood my hairs on end. For a second my brain was able to grasp the severity of my situation, how I was going to die out here in this bleak dessert where my parents would never find me. Victoria, who’d already been violated in the worst way possible, would probably end up in a similar situation. And For what? I still had no idea. I needed to keep him talking, wait for a moment that would give me an upper hand. I couldn’t believe, wouldn’t believe, that after all I’d been through, after surviving Skinny Man, I’d get killed by a scumbag like Walt.
“You want to know something about your friend, about that girlie in there? I think she came. Yeah, I think she liked it. Ain’t that a killer?”
It was all I could do to keep digging and not rush at him. My hand gripped the shaft of the shovel so tightly I could see the whites of my knuckles in the darkness.
“That’s right,” he continued. “Funny how bitches have them rape fantasies. They all like it, like to be forced into it. Want you to shove yourself into them as they scream and hit you and say no no no. But they like it, oh yes they do. Fuck a bitch enough times she’ll tell you eventually how she wants to be taken by force. I’d recommend you try yourself some rape, but shit, only thing you’re gonna shove your meat into is worms. Now don’t you look at me like that. Keep that shovel moving.”
I wouldn’t know anything about rough sex, not having slept with many girls, but I sure as shit knew Walt had a skewed view of how women work. Tooth used to tell me that some girls liked to engage in weird fantasies where some strange man would have his way with them, but the thing is, it was all done in the midst of fun and respect and trust. What had been done to Victoria was evil. The result of a sickness that too many men in this world take pride in, a disconnect that they use to give themselves power over a gender they perceive as weak. That’s all it is in the end, a pathetic and weak display of cowardice for a cheap thrill. I hoped Walt and his idiot friends burned in hell for it.
“How far down is that,” he asked me. “Four feet? That’s good enough, it’ll cover over. Drop the shovel.”
I looked up at Walt, saw the moon in the sky behind him, like a rind of rotted cantaloupe keeping watch over us. Is this it, I wondered. I’ll hear a loud bang and then black will overtake me?
“Was it good for you?” I asked.
“Nah. I’m impatient, and you took a bit longer than I expected.”
“You said I was a good digger.”
“I say a lot of shit. Don’t mean I always agree with it. You dig like my grandma taking a shit—slow and hopeful, and in the end all you expel is hot air.”
“She must have been a lovely lady.”
“Best pork ribs this side of Texas. But you tell me…how’s it feel to be standing in your own grave?”
“Don’t suppose you’d take money or anything? Forget about everything that happened here tonight. What’s your price?”
“Now that is a sad sight, a man begging for his life with money he can’t possibly have. My price? There’s more zeros in my price than I’m even able count.”
“Then that’s works in my favor since I’m betting you can’t count beyond two.”
He paused. Then: “You know, I’ve killed a dozen men in my day, and only two had the balls you got, kid. But what amazes me about having balls is that it brings out the comedian in people. It’s pretty damn cheap and erases any sense of bravado you could show me in your final seconds. I mean, if you wanted me to feel like you were truly tough, spitting at me or giving me the finger would go a lot further. But bad jokes just get lost on the wind.”
“So I’ll take that as yes, you can’t count.”
“I’m getting paid well for this. More than you can give me. You know every time Bob grunted when he fucked that bitch in there…imagine a thousand dollars for every one. I stopped counting after one hundred. Besides,” he patted his jacket pocket and I heard keys jingle, “I got your car now so I’ll consider that your payment.”
I debated telling him about the stupidity of driving around in a pinstriped Camaro that would sooner or later be reported missing by either my parents or Barry or someone, but realized it may be the only way he ever got caught.
“Now,” he said, “since you’re such a funny guy, I’m changing how we do this.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that I’m not gonna shoot you. See, not only have I never seen a man dig his own grave, but I ain’t never seen one get buried alive either. I want you totally conscious when I do this.” He gave one of those smirks that’s supposed to convey his cleverness but really just made him look like an imbecile. “So do me a kindness and toss the shovel to the side. Then get on your stomach.”
My mind was racing, my eyes scanning my surroundings. I couldn’t think of any way out of this short of just rushing him and taking a bullet in the stomach. Probably wouldn’t kill me immediately but at least I wouldn’t be focused on suffocating under four feet of dirt.
Now would be a good time for some help, Tooth, I thought. If you’re up there looking down and haven’t pissed off the big guy, I could use a distraction.
“Hey, there’s no invitation coming. Toss the shovel down or I shoot your kneecaps.”
“But you just said—“
“Forget what I say, just do as I command!”
“Don’t I get any last words?”
“No. Lay down.” He held his free hand out and motioned for me to lay the shovel down.
That mosquito that had been flittering around Walt’s head landed on his nose.
It sat like a witch’s mole on the bulbous flesh.
I slid my hand around the top of the shovel’s haft. “Fine. Here.”
C’mon, bite him, I thought.
It was a subconscious move on his part. A meaningless little swipe at the pest trying to suck his blood. But like last time, he used the gun to wave it away.
I launched the shovel at him.
“Fuck!” he yelled as he tried to dodge it.
It hit him in square in the face. He staggered back and raised the gun.
I was out of the hole and charging. There was a loud bang and something whizzed by my ear. I slid into his legs like someone stealing bases.
He came down on top of me and I wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed for all I was worth.
He kicked and tried to get the gun around to my body but I caught his wrist and jammed my thumb into the tender spot between his tendons. He lost the grip on the gun and let it dangle on his finger by the trigger guard. “Motherfucker!”
My arms blazed with pain as I tightened my grip around his windpipe.
The gun came up handle-first and struck me in my broken nose, making my eyes tear up. It was such an intense pain I almost let go of him to roll over and wail. But I kept squeezing, kept telling myself it was either that or die.
Walt was bigger than me by at least sixty pounds, so he finally stood up, taking me with him. I wrapped my legs around him and kicked him in the groin, now hanging on like a kid getting a piggyback ride.
With a mighty grunt he threw himself down on top of me, knocking the wind from my lungs.
When we landed he dropped the gun. I reached out and grabbed it, gasping for breath, just as his size twelve boot caught me in the ribs and rolled me back several feet.
