Jackknife (The Shivers Collection, #1)

by Joe Hill

You had to make rules for yourself, and you had to follow them, or you really were lost.

Even though he rarely wanted the walk, he was always glad for it once he got going, if only because it got him out of the house.

The path lassoed a pond with reedy, marshy edges, a pool of water roughly the shape of a horse’s cock.

“That’s probably why it’s moving. The knife wounded it so it couldn’t go anywhere. Now it’s getting better.”