Brian Keene's Blog, page 201

DELUGE (Part 72)

There was no sound to accompany the explosion, but Henry assumed that was what must have happened. How else to explain the blinding flash of light outside the ranger station's observation windows? One moment, there had been only gray, dreary bleakness. The next, everything was illuminated in starkly vivid shades of orange and red.

Blinded by the flash, Henry staggered backward, flailing for something to hold on to as the tower swayed yet again. The gun, almost forgotten, nearly slipped from his hand. He grasped at it, sucking in breath and hoping the weapon wouldn't accidentally discharge. The irony was not lost on him. Only seconds before, he'd been planning to kill Sarah and then himself, thus fulfilling their mutual suicide pact. Now, seconds later, everything had changed.

I've seen the light, Henry thought. Boy, have I!

Spots floated in his field of vision. Blinking, he readjusted both his balance and his grip on the handgun. Then he made his way to the window.

"What's happening?" Sarah asked.

Henry's reply was cut short by another burst of light. Unlike the first time, this flash was accompanied by a strange sound. Henry cocked his head, listening. After a moment, he realized the sound was that of Earl and the others screaming. He looked out on the scene below, and was shocked to see two men—at least, he thought they were men—making their way toward the tower. The two figures walked single file. Both were covered head to toe with some kind of bizarre makeshift body armor consisting of hardhats, welder's facemasks, dust respirators, boots, the type of pants and coats worn by firefighters, and lots of duct tape. The one in the rear carried a rifle, but Henry barely noticed this. His attention was focused on the weapon the first figure wielded—a homemade flamethrower. The man swept it back and forth in front of him, clearing a path for him and his partner to walk that was devoid of any white fuzz. As Henry watched, a horde of fungus-infested creatures swarmed toward them.

"Look out!" He pounded his fist against the glass.

Behind him, Sarah groaned, rising to her feet.

Henry doubted his warning had been heard, let alone heeded, but it didn't really matter. The man with the flamethrower met the attackers head on. Fire spewed from the nozzle, engulfing the creatures and once again lighting up the horizon. Several of the fungal zombies were incinerated on the spot. Others fled, burning as they ran.

The pounding on the door recommenced, but it had taken on a different, more urgent tone.

"Soft…" Earl called. His voice sounded almost plaintive.

"Hear that?" Sarah grinned, running to the door. "The fucker is scared!"

"Don't open it," Henry said.

"I'm not. I just want to listen."

Henry looked outside again. The two figures were out of sight, which meant that they were most likely on the stairs. That would certainly explain Earl's reaction. He glanced toward the horizon. The ship he'd seen earlier, the one he'd thought was a derelict, was still there amidst the other debris, but now he noticed something else. Parked on their shore and tied to the top of a mostly-submerged oak tree was a small rowboat. When he turned back to Sarah, she had her ear to the door.

"Get away from there!"

"I told you what Earl did to my friends and me. Whatever has him spooked, I want to hear him get what's coming."

"Mr. Garnett and Mr. Seaton were my friends, too," Henry reminded her. "As for what's outside, it's two fellas. One of them has a flamethrower."

"The Army?"

"I don't reckon so. They're wearing some kind of—"

He was cut off by a scream from right outside the door, followed by the pounding of boots on the metal stairs. Earl shrieked again—a terrible, high-pitched squeal that faded away into a sizzling sound. Sarah backed away from the door. She and Henry exchanged a frightened glance. He put his finger to his lips and motioned for her to come to him.

"We should hide," he whispered.

"Where?"

Before he could answer, there was another knock at the door. Unlike Earl's, this knocking was quick and self-assured. Five raps, a pause, and then two more.

"Shave and a hair cut?" Henry frowned.

The melody was repeated, and before Henry could stop her, Sarah—still in the grip of whatever emotional breakdown she'd suffered—ran to the door and flung it open.

"Shit!"

Henry brought the handgun up, pointing it at the two figures as they stormed into the room. Both of the new arrivals had their weapons ready, as well.

"Are either of you infected?" It was the figure with the flamethrower who spoke. A man's voice, muffled slightly through the welding shield and respirator. "Are there any more of those things here?"

Slowly, Henry shook his head.

"How about you drop that pistol, kid?" This time, the voice belonged to the one with the rifle. Henry was surprised to learn she was female.

"Are you here to kill us?" Sarah asked. Her expression was enraptured.

"No," the man said. "My name's Novak. This is Gail. We're survivors, just like you are."

Deadite Press: 2nd Wave

By now, you know that Deadite Press is in the process of bringing 90% of my books back into print? If you are a bookseller or library, you've ordered them for your store via Ingram? If you're a fan, you've purchased trade paperbacks of Urban Gothic, A Gathering of Crows, Take The Long Way Home, Jack's Magic Beans, Clickers, and Clickers II, or Kindle editions of Urban Gothic and Clickers II?

Good. Because starting next week, they unleash the second wave with forthcoming trade paperback editions of Tequila's Sunrise, Darkness On The Edge Of Town, Dead Sea, Castaways, and Kill Whitey, and Kindle editions of Jack's Magic Beans, Clickers, Clickers 3, Darkness On The Edge Of Town, Dead Sea, Castaways, A Gathering of Crows, and Take The Long Way Home. (The Kindle edition of Kill Whitey will be offered via Cemetery Dance later this year, and the trade paperback of Clickers 3 is available via Delirium Books).

That will take us into summer. Nook and other digital editions will follow shortly. Editions of Dark Hollow, Ghost Walk, and a special movie tie-in edition of Ghoul will come in the fall. Late in the year and into early 2012, we'll see Earthworm Gods, The Rising, City of the Dead, and their associated short story collections.

And then I'll have a few surprises in store…

Meet the Criggers

In the past, a handful of reviewers have said the characters in my novel The Conqueror Worms are "unrealistic hillbilly caricatures". They say the same thing about the characters in many of Ed Lee's novels. But those characters aren't unrealistic caricatures. I know people like them. So does Lee. And now you can, too. Meet the Crigger family (from a discussion on Laird Barron's Facebook page).

Glimpses From The Future (Updated)

Sneak peeks at the covers for three forthcoming books: A Conspiracy of One and Alone (Thunderstorm/Maelstrom) and the new edition of Darkness On The Edge of Town (Deadite Press). The table of contents for A Conspiracy of One, along with an exclusive teaser excerpt, can be found here on The Keenedom.

Glimpses From The Future

Sneak peeks at the covers for three forthcoming books: A Conspiracy of One and Alone (Thunderstorm/Maelstrom) and the new edition of Darkness On The Edge of Town (Deadite Press).

URBAN GOTHIC by Xander Harris

You might remember that Xander Harris recorded an electro/synthcore soundtrack inspired by my novel Urban Gothic. Xander previously told us "The snippets of dialog dispersed throughout some of the songs were all based on things that are heinous, in the vein of the book.  Some of it (like the live exorcism I sampled) of course isn't in there but I wanted to add to over all creep out feeling over the novel."

The album is now available in both MP3 and as a vinyl LP. Click here to order the LP or to pay for MP3s in USD. Click here to pay for the MP3s in British pounds.

And, of course, click here to order the trade paperback or Kindle edition of Urban Gothic, and click here to order the audio-book.

VACATION

I am on vacation this week. This means that during the day, I'll be playing Matchbox cars and dinosaurs with Turtle, and advising his older brother on girls. During the evening, I'll work on Alone, Hollow Inside, Lake Fossil, and the script for The Last Zombie #3. Probably won't be much happening here, but I'm sure we'll have fun on Twitter.

At The Keenedom

Ten current discussions of interest. You must be registered and logged in to view or participate. Registration is free.

1. The Kickstarter campaign for the new Bella Morte album.

2. Excitement builds for the big-screen adaptation of Ghoul.

3. Bryan Smith begins re-releasing his Dorchester titles via Kindle.

4. The average educational background of the average writer.

5. Toys of the 70's.

6. Is Tom Piccirilli's Every Shallow Cut the best book of his career?

7. Trailer for The German by Lee Thomas.

8. The Carlton Mellick book that must be earned, not purchased.

9. Kelli Owen beats another of my records.

10. Thunderstorm's FAQ for the new Nate Southard & Lee Thomas book debuting at WHC.

Mid-Week Week in Review

As noted earlier, Mary and I will be Boston for the next few days, so here's the wrap-up for this week. Deluge continued with the biggest cliffhanger yet. A Gathering of Crows came back into print as a trade paperback. Kindle editions of Urban Gothic and Clickers II: The Next Wave were released. I gave you a status update on Entombed and the next Maelstrom set. David Niall Wilson's dog endorsed the Dorchester Boycott. And finally, there was more uncertainty regarding the Horror Mall – Bad Moon split.

DELUGE (Part 71)

Henry switched off the radio and stood there, shoulders slumped, head down, arms hanging limp. He felt drained, both physically and emotionally. His ears felt hot and were filled with a droning buzz. He swayed back and forth, unsure if the tower was shaking again or if he was just about to pass out. The heat spread to his cheeks and forehead. His vision began to blur.

"No," he mumbled. "Ain't got time to pass out. Earl and them others will be back. Got to barricade the door again."

He turned unsteadily. Sarah remained sitting on the floor, her back against the wall. She'd stopped singing, but her shoulders still shook with laughter. Her cheeks glistened with tears. More streamed from her red-rimmed eyes.

"Do it, Henry," she moaned. "Let's just get it over with."

Ignoring her, Henry made his way to the door. It was more difficult than he'd expected. His legs were wobbly, and he kept bumping into things. His mind kept returning to what Steven Kazmirski, the man on the radio, had said. Here was a guy who had a cure, who had a means for saving the world, or at the very least, stopping the White Fuzz. But he'd never be able to do it. Henry hadn't understood all the scientific jargon the man had spouted, but even if he did make it all the way from Boston to that Havenbrook Research Center, he was still infected. He'd be dead before he ever finished the cure.

They all would be, Henry realized. Even if the man on the radio had been able to stop the fungus, he couldn't stop the rain. The weather was merciless and unchanging. The rain would not stop. It would still be there long after they were dead. Henry stopped halfway to the door and glanced out the tower's large window. Where once had been a tree-lined horizon, there was now an ocean. Debris floated atop the churning surface—halves of buildings and uprooted trees, cars and trucks, corpses, and even an apparently unmoored ship. The ranger station stood at the very top of the mountain, anchored deep into the rocks, yet black water now lapped at the cliffs just a few hundred yards beneath the tower's base. In another week, maybe two, it would reach them. But did they even have that long? The steel was weakening, turning to liquid, and those mold monsters were determined to get in.

"Oh, Ma," Henry whispered. "I miss you and Pa and Moxey. I can see the end of the world from here."

He stared down at the waves. Two weeks at most, unless the tower collapsed beneath their feet or Earl and the other creatures got inside before then. As if on cue, Henry heard a familiar shuffling gait on the stairs outside. Then a muffled voice rasped.

"Soft…"

"Shit! Here they come."

"Do it, Henry."

"Do what?" he snapped, hurrying by Sarah. As he did, he realized that her voice had changed again. She sounded sane once more. He glanced at her. Sarah's expression was calm.

"Get the pistol. The one the forest rangers left behind."

"That won't do anything against Earl."

"Not for them. Kill me. I don't deserve to live. Not after what I did to Kevin. Not after everything that's happened? What's the point? To end up like Earl? Or worse? Kill me, okay? I don't want to die like that. Please? And if you're smart, you'll kill yourself, too."

Fists hammered at the door, slowly at first, but growing more insistent. The door rattled in its frame. Henry glanced at the door and then back to Sarah.

"Do it, Henry. Please? I'm so tired. I'm just so fucking tired…"

The pounding grew louder and more violent. Tendrils of fungus slipped through the crack at the bottom of the door, wriggling across the floor like tentative feelers.

"Soft," Earl called. "Soft…"

Swallowing, Henry picked up the .357 and stood looking down at Sarah.

"Is it loaded?" she asked. "It holds five bullets. I don't remember if I loaded it after… the last time I used it."

He checked it and then nodded. "It's fine."

"Good."

"You sure about this?"

"I am. Just don't miss. Okay?"

Henry tried to speak but found that he couldn't. His tongue felt dry and swollen. Sarah closed her eyes and lowered her head. She folded her hands in her lap, waiting. Henry put the gun to her head…

…and that was when the world outside exploded.