Brian Keene's Blog, page 211
February 5, 2011
February 4, 2011
DELUGE (Part 66)
PART THREE – THE EDGE OF THE WORLD
As she did every morning since she'd killed him, Sarah went to the large windows and looked for Kevin's ghost. It had been two weeks since Henry's arrival and Kevin's death, and Sarah was pretty sure that she wasn't coping with it in a healthy manner. She'd felt grief and guilt and sadness in the first few days, but they'd quickly been replaced with an emotional malaise—a numbness that seemed to coat her very soul. She didn't feel anything anymore. She didn't eat enough, not that it mattered. Henry ate enough for them both. She'd had to remind him several times about rationing their food. She slept too much, but there was no release even then, because every time she closed her eyes she dreamed of Baltimore and the cultists, or Teddy and Carl.
Or Kevin.
If she could see his ghost, if she could see a Kevin-shaped apparition standing at the base of the tower and waving up at her, it would be proof that he wasn't really gone. Proof that the sum total of his existence hadn't ended with a bullet and then melted away into a puddle of water. Because if he didn't exist anymore, if there wasn't some part of him, some part of his consciousness, some part of his essence that didn't survive beyond this, then what hope was there for any of them? What was the point of going on? She thought back to her conversation with Henry when he'd first arrived at the ranger station. She'd asked him if he was ready to kill himself, and he'd said he wasn't. She hadn't been either. But now…?
Sarah wiped condensation from the window and peered outside. Kevin's ghost wasn't there to greet her, but Earl and the others were. If the thing outside was really even Earl anymore. The creature was man-shaped, having a head, two arms and two legs, and stood about Earl's height, but its mass was nothing more than white fuzz. Its clothing, skin and hair had all been covered by the fungus. It certainly didn't look like Earl. Sarah could only take Henry's word for that it was. Henry's word… and the fact that the creature seemed to grow agitated when it saw her, as if it recognized her, remembered her from before. And if it was Earl, then what had happened to Teddy and Carl? Could they have been transformed into one of these things, as well? The thought of those two sweet old men stumbling around as one of these fungal-zombies filled her with remorse.
Henry stirred behind her. Sarah turned, smiling sadly as he stretched and yawned.
"They still out there?" he asked.
Sarah nodded. "They haven't moved. Still in the same spot they were in yesterday. But there's more of them now."
"Wonder how they know we're up here? I mean, how is it that more and more of them keep showing up? It's like Earl called for reinforcements. You reckon they can communicate in some way?"
"They must," Sarah said. "Or maybe they're just converging on the last piece of dry land."
She turned back to the window and stared at the horizon. The forest was gone, submerged now beneath the waves. A few treetops still jutted from the water, but with each passing day less of them were visible. The rain kept falling and the waters kept rising, and their mountaintop refuge was now nothing more than a very small island in a very big ocean. Sarah figured that they had about another week before the waters reached the tower itself. After that, it would only be a matter of time before the ranger station sank beneath the surface, as well. That was unless the white fuzz got them first. She and Henry had managed to stymie Earl's attacks by barricading the door and booby-trapping the stairs, but that didn't impede the strands of fungus that were slowly growing up the sides of the tower, encasing the steel girders like vines. Sometimes at night, Henry told her he could feel the tower swaying back and forth as the supports weakened, but Sarah insisted it was just his imagination.
"What next?" Henry muttered, running a hand through his dirty hair and crawling out of bed.
"That's just what I was wondering," Sarah whispered. She looked again for Kevin, but only saw more rain.
February 3, 2011
The Damned Highway hits the wires
Nice to see that Dark Horse's press release for me and Nick Mamatas' forthcoming novel is getting picked up by MTV, CBR, and others.
February 2, 2011
Meanwhile, on the Internet
This week's links of interest from across the internet:
1. Borders may file for bankruptcy next week as shares plummet.
2. 100 Horror Novels All Fans Should Read (The Rising is on there).
3. Heartbreaking account of why author and reviewer Melissa Mia Hall passed away.
4. If you haven't seen this yet — dude gets upset at the Sundance premiere of Jack Ketchum, Lucky McKee, and Moderncine's The Woman.
5. Joe R. Lansdale on growing up in the shadow of Armageddon.
THE DAMNED HIGHWAY
My new novel The Damned Highway, which I co-wrote with Nick Mamatas, will be published this July in trade paperback as part of Dark Horse's expanding prose publishing line. Dark Horse, best known for their comic properties such as Star Wars, Hellboy, Aliens, etc. said in today's announcement: "Nick Mamatas teams with two-time Bram Stoker award winner Brian Keene for a hilarious, shocking, terrifying thrill ride across the American landscape. The Damned Highway pays homage to the gonzo journalism of Hunter S. Thompson and the uncanny terrors of H. P. Lovecraft, delving into the blackest depths of the American nightmare. This drug-fueled thrill ride takes place on a freaked-out bus journey to Arkham, Massachusetts, during the 1972 presidential primary. As the story unfolds, evidence mounts that sinister forces are on the rise, led by the Cult of Cthulhu and its most prominent member—Richard M. Nixon!"
Editor, Rachel Edidin added: "The prose line we're developing is very much part of Dark Horse, embodying the same properties that define our comics: a carefully curated collection of smart, original works that sets the bar for literary horror and fantasy and reflects our ongoing commitment to creator rights. In Damned Highway, two leading weird-horror writers team up to take a manic plunge into the eldritch nightmares of H. P. Lovecraft filtered through the drug-fueled vision of legendary gonzo journalist 'Uncle Lono.' This line is an editorial fantasy, for me–the chance to make a home for exactly the sort of books I want to see more of as a reader."
On sale July 20 wherever books are sold for the low price of $14. Dig the cover.
January 31, 2011
Win Jack's Magic Beans
In celebration of my joining forces with Deadite Press to bring all of my Leisure back-list back into print (see here in case you missed last week's announcement) Grade Z Horror is giving away a free copy of the upcoming Deadite Press edition of Jack's Magic Beans (which will be on sale in a few weeks).
Click here to enter the contest. No purchase or registration necessary.
And stay tuned this week for more on all of the Deadite Press releases, as well as the official release announcement for my new novel The Damned Highway: Fear & Loathing in Arkham (co-written with Nick Mamatas).
Starve Better
[image error]Starve Better is a no-nonsense survival guide by a professional writer who knows how to use small press publications and writing for everyone from corporate clients to friends and neighbors to keep himself out of the soup kitchen line.
Starve Better makes no promises of making you a bestselling author. It won't feed aspiring writers' dreams of fame and fortune. This book is about survival: how to generate ideas when you needed them yesterday, dialogue and plot on the quick, and what your manuscript is up against in the slush piles of the world. For non-fiction writers, Starve Better offers writing techniques such as how to get (relatively) high-paying assignments in second and third-tier magazines, how to react to your first commissioned assignment, and how to find gigs that pay NOW as the final notices pile up and the mice eat the last of the pasta in the cupboard.
Humor, essays and some of the most widely read blog pieces from Nick Mamatas, author and editor of fiction that has caught the attention of speculative fiction's most prestigious awards, come together for the first time in a writers' guide that won't teach anyone how to get rich and famous… but will impart the most valuable skill in the business: how to starve better. CLICK HERE TO PRE-ORDER.
January 30, 2011
GHOUL Begins Shooting in May
Chuck Palahniuk ran a recent interview with writer Jack Ketchum, director Lucky McKee and producer Andrew van den Houten about the Sundance controversy surrounding The Woman. During the interview, Andrew confirms that Ghoul will begin shooting in May: "I have basically not taken any projects on except for this one movie called GHOUL by the director of THE GIRL NEXT DOOR which is based on a Brian Keene novel that we're going to shoot in May." Ghoul will be reprinted later this year in trade paperback and e-book by Deadite Press.
January 29, 2011
Weekend Update
Previously on Brian Keene dot com…
Deluge's second act wrapped up. Part Three (the finale) begins next week!
John Skipp needs our help! Please consider donating a dollar.
January 27, 2011
DELUGE (Part 65)
"You must be Mr. Morgan," Simon said.
Ignoring him, Morgan motioned with the shotgun. "Go on. You heard me. Drop your weapons now. I don't have time to fuck around. There's still one more of those things loose on the ship."
"If there are more of those things," Gail said, "then maybe we should put aside our differences and work together."
"Teamwork?" Morgan snorted. "You mean like Novak's talk of a suicide pact? Yeah, that would have been a group effort alright."
Novak winced. "Morgan, I—"
"Shut up! I'm in charge here, and no, I won't be working with you guys. You didn't want to work with me, Novak. Oh, no. You threatened to toss me over the side! Or have you forgotten that already?"
"You left us to fucking die," Novak countered. "Or have you forgotten that?"
"Maybe so," Morgan said, "but you started this shit."
None of them responded. The only sound was a small whimper from Caterina. Gail cursed herself once more for not knowing if her weapon was readied or not, and weighed the possibility of taking a chance. But if she was wrong, and a shell wasn't chambered, she doubted that Morgan would give her time to try again.
"Now," Morgan continued. "I don't know how in the hell you survived, or how you got back on board the ship, but I won't ask again. Drop your fucking weapons."
"As you wish." Simon knelt slowly, keeping his gaze focused on Morgan, and laid the trident on the deck.
Novak and Gail glanced at each other. Sighing, Novak dropped his knife. It clanged against the bulkhead. Gail was about to put down her shotgun when McCann shouted. He charged toward Morgan, bellowing with rage, the sword raised over his head with both hands.
Gail yelled, "McCann—"
The blast from Morgan's shotgun drowned her out. McCann stumbled backward as his skull parted. His brains splattered against the bulkhead with a wet smack. His blood painted Gail, Simon and Caterina's faces. McCann tumbled forward at Morgan's feet, leaking onto the gunman's shoes.
Gail swung her shotgun up and squeezed the trigger. The sound of the hammer was very loud, audible despite the echoing kill shot, but it was the only sound. The weapon didn't kick. She'd been right all along. She had forgotten to rack it. Morgan had no such problem. He'd already done so after shooting McCann. She watched the barrel of his weapon swing toward her, and time seemed to slow. She closed her eyes…
…and opened them a moment later when Morgan screamed. Caterina and Novak shrieked along with him. When Gail saw why, she cried out, too.
The starfish creature had snuck up behind him, probably attracted by the sounds of the struggle. Now it towered over Morgan, its broad hands on his shoulders, and lowered its mouth over the top of his head. As they watched, it bit through his skull, neatly slicing off the top of his head. Morgan's screams reached a feverish pitch as the monster slurped his brains out. He whimpered twice, and then went limp.
Before the beast could drop the corpse, Simon swept forward, snatched up the trident, and plunged it through Morgan's chest. He threw all his weight behind it, pushing the weapon through the dead man and into the creature, impaling them both. The monster screeched, flailing both its human arms and its starfish appendages. Blood gushed down the shaft of the trident, slathering Simon's hands.
"Novak," he grunted, shoving harder. "Gail… help me!"
Gail dropped the shotgun. The two of them rushed to his aid, adding their weight to the trident. Together, they drove the thrashing creature against the bulkhead. It slapped at them with its hands, but they held firm.
"Push," Novak yelled.
The monster's claws raked across Gail's forearm. She flinched, gritting her teeth against the pain. Then she shoved harder.
They kept it pinned there until it was dead. Then Simon yanked the trident free. Both Morgan and the starfish creature slumped to the deck. Simon gasped for breath as he turned back to face the others.
"Holy shit," Novak said. "You're in pretty good shape for a guy who was almost dead yesterday."
"I heal quickly."
Gail knelt over McCann. She had the urge to check his pulse and see if he was alive, even though he was clearly dead. She closed her eyes. The smell of blood and gunpowder hung thick in the air. She sensed movement next to her, and when she opened her eyes again, Novak was kneeling beside her. His cheeks were wet with tears.
"Why did he do that?" Novak whispered. "Why charge Morgan like that? He must have known it would be suicide."
"He's been acting weird for a while now. Ever since the island… monster… whatever it was. Maybe he finally snapped."
Novak opened his mouth to reply, but sobbed instead.
"I'm sorry about Mr. McCann," Simon replied. Then he pointed at Caterina. "You said there were two more people on this vessel?"
She nodded. "Mylon and Tatiana."
"Well, then. I suggest you, me, and Gail find them, and make sure they are okay. And I recommend we do so carefully, just in case Mr. Morgan was wrong about the number of creatures left on board. And while we conduct our search, Mr. Novak can prepare to set sail."
"We've got engines," Novak said, standing up and wiping his eyes.
Simon smiled. "Then check the engines, Captain."
Sniffling, Novak grinned back at him. "Can I find my flamethrower first?"
Simon laughed. After a moment, Gail and Novak did the same. Gail had a fleeting thought that perhaps it was wrong, laughing this way with McCann barely five minutes dead. But it felt good. She felt… alive.
"I'm still confused," Caterina said. "Where are we going, again?"
"That's easy," Simon told her. "We're going to the edge of the world."
END OF PART TWO
NEXT WEEK: PART THREE – THE EDGE OF THE WORLD
