Buy Zombie posted their review of Into The Dark today. While the reviewer had some issues with parts of the story, overall, I think this was a positive review. I appreciated the opportunity to have them read it and hope you will do the same. Check out the review at: http://www.buyzombie.com/2011/01/03/reviews-of-zombie-related-things/into-the-dark-review/.
January 3, 2011 | Categories: Into The Dark | Tags: book review, comes the dark, horror, Into The Dark, Library of the Living Dead, zombies | Leave a comment
I hope everyone out there is having a great holiday season! I wanted to post this little stand alone introduction to Jason that actually takes place before he meets George. I probably could have posted this before the prior string of stories about the two of them together, but I guess this will work since it does relate to only Jason. This is fairly brief, but was my introduction of him as a character and delves a little deeper into his relationship with his mother and what happened to her.
There will be more Dark Stories to come, but this finishes the stories that introduce the initial characters that Jeff meets in the first book. Now that the second book is released, I will probably focus on stories about the characters introduced there from now on. Stay tuned.
Again, as always, forgive me for any editing misses-I try to clean these up, but I know I will end up missing a few bits and pieces here and there.
Without further ado, here you go:
Jason, Alone
Everything had been screwed up since momma dragged him out of school up in Detroit and moved him down to this white bread hillbilly paradise. They sure as heck hadn’t been rich up in Dearborn, but he’d gotten to see his father every now and then and they had a nice apartment. Jason didn’t want a house, even if momma insisted that they needed a place where they weren’t crammed in next to twenty other families. He didn’t want to leave his school either. It wasn’t like he had lots of friends there, but he was comfortable with his teachers and knew what was expected of him. Here, he stood out like a sore thumb. They had gotten a house like momma had always wanted, but there were even more trailer parks in the town they lived in than he’d ever seen back home. That momma somehow thought moving to Gallatin, Ohio was a step up from Dearborn, Michigan was beyond Jason’s ability to understand.
After living in the small town for a while, things leveled out, though they still sucked. The kids in Gallatin more or less ignored him. There was a good share of white trash, but most of the kids were nice enough. There were only a few black families in town so it was almost like most of the white kids had no idea of how to act around him. He could tell that they’d been taught that racism was bad and yet they were still uncomfortable being around someone who wasn’t the same color as they were. The school was okay. Jason had always been smart and adjusting academically wasn’t too challenging. His mother insisted he was getting a better education here, though he kind of doubted it.
He was getting used to things in Ohio, even though his father hadn’t called or written since the move. He didn’t like the nasty things momma said about dad, but didn’t argue with her about it. With as many times as she called him worthless, it didn’t seem all that surprising that Jason’s father chose to forget about his son once they moved away.
Momma never accepted any blame for anything in regards to Jason’s father, even after deciding to pick up and move almost three hundred miles away from him. She insisted that it was her ex-husband’s fault he couldn’t pick up a phone or try to arrange to have Jason go back up to Detroit for a week during the holidays or in the summer. She didn’t accept any blame, but Jason silently affixed much of it on her. But as with everything else, he suffered quietly and didn’t act out or complain. He was her good son, well behaved and shy. He loved his momma and even if he wished she wouldn’t have made some of the choices she did, he was smart enough to know that she was the one person in the world who would always be there for him, no matter what. He still loved his dad, but he’d known for years that the man was unreliable. That was just the way it was. Momma could always be counted on.
That was, until the world fell apart.
Jason was watching TV that morning, the morning when everything changed. He already knew things had been getting bad over the past few days, but with all the special reports breaking in on every channel, things had boiled over.
Yvonne, his mother, had been concerned about what was going on around the country and around town, but that concern didn’t mean she was interested in skipping out on work.
“They need me down there, especially now. You stay home today-no playing outside. Lock the doors and don’t answer the phone. I’ll be home after my shift.”
She hugged him tight and left. Jason wasn’t concerned for himself. Things had been quiet in their neighborhood, but there were some terrible stories on the news about what was happening in the cities, like where momma worked.
As the day wore on, Jason found himself glued to the TV, watching news reports that were getting harder to believe by the second. Every program he switched to was talking about the same thing. The virus had gone global and there were reports of infection everywhere. Doctors were baffled, despite the government’s reassurance that they were working on coming up with a vaccination or cure.
People were dying everywhere, and the televised attacks by the infected were hard to watch. Still, Jason was mesmerized by the violent images as they rolled by on the screen.
More than once, he was tempted to call the hospital where momma worked, but resisted the urge. He was only supposed to call in case of an emergency. This was a worldwide emergency, no doubt about it, but it wasn’t as if someone was banging on the front door, trying to get inside the house to attack him. So instead, he continued watching the stories about the virus spreading, maps with containment vectors discussed by Army Generals, and the riots breaking out in towns and cities across the country and across the globe.
Jason was still in front of the TV when Yvonne, his mother, came home five hours before her shift was supposed to end. He was thrilled she’d returned early, until he saw the bandage on her arm. She had been scratched by a patient at the hospital.
She had been plain unlucky. That was how she described it. Jason’s mother was a nurse a big downtown Cincinnati medical center and was taking the vital signs of a patient who’d come into the emergency room after claiming to have been bitten. The man was delirious and he freaked out when she put a stethoscope against his chest. He’d been lying on a gurney in one of the hallways off the ER, because people were jammed to the rafters in the place and the nurses and doctors had to deal with patients where they sat or stood. Yvonne had been commandeered from her post on the Cardiac ward to help with the overflow.
The man had reached up to grab her wrist as he babbled unintelligibly at her. When she tried to remove his hand, he raked his fingernails across her forearm as he spit up blood and frothed at the mouth. With the help of a couple of orderlies she got the man under control and sedated, but not before his spittle and blood and gotten all over her, including into her brand new wound.
Yvonne Samuels told her son that she’d had the suspicion that things were going to hell the moment she had walked into the hospital six hours earlier. It’d taken less than an hour before she’d been called into the emergency room. The rumor mill among the nurses had gained a full head of steam, and while much of what she was told sounded ridiculous, it was getting easier to buy into the various stories they were feeding her as the day went on.
A particular one stuck with her. One of the regular ER nurses indicated that she’d heard that the National Guard was planning on shutting down most of the hospitals in the area and not letting any more patients into them. In addition to that measure, rumor also had it that any of the people already in the hospitals, including staff, were to be quarantined.
It had sounded like an unlikely possibility the first time she heard it, but by the time she was scratched a few hours later and the emergency room had turned into an utter madhouse, it was getting hard to deny that something was about to happen. Fear, like the virus, was spreading across the hospital at an exponential rate.
No one really knew for sure how the virus spread. Bites without a doubt, but no one knew if it was also airborne, could be transmitted through drinking water, or if there was some other route to getting sick.
Paranoia and panic were engulfing the hospital. Both the patients and staff were rapidly losing their minds. Yvonne suspected that whatever plan the National Guard had in mind to restore control would be acted on far too late to do any good. The situation had deteriorated far too fast.
There had been several attacks when bitten patients died on operating tables or while waiting to be checked out in the ER. Far too late, someone in a position of authority decided that anyone who came in bitten was to be restrained. Unfortunately, that wasn’t before several nurses, doctors, and other patients were attacked.
Jason’s mom had never been one to pull her punches and she didn’t do so as she relayed her tale to him. She had a pretty good idea how much trouble she was in after bandaging her scratched arm. The wound had felt like it was on fire mere seconds after the attack. Since it wasn’t a bite, no one paid the wound much attention, but there was no doubt in her mind that she would be getting curious glances in no time. She was already running a fever. She had to get the hell out of there before she ended up tied to some bed while she waited to die.
Taking one last look around, Yvonne decided to make a beeline to the garage where her car was parked. There was no way she was going to let them quarantine her or tie her up; not with her boy waiting for her to get back home. She had been prepared to do anything, up to and including blasting through the gate at the edge of the employee lot with her beat up old Buick Skylark. It didn’t matter that there were two police cruisers parked on the street outside the garage-nothing was going to stop her from leaving that place.
Fortune smiled on her. The attendant waved her through without even looking up from the portable TV he had in the booth with him.
On the drive home, Yvonne listened to traffic reports that indicated every highway in and out of the city was either clogged or blockaded by the military. Even many of the major roads were backed up, but Yvonne had been driving in the city long enough to have learned about several lesser known routes that would get her home without all the traffic headaches the main routes tended to provide. It was clear as she headed east out of Cincinnati that the city was shutting down, and soon there wouldn’t be any roads open to traffic anymore. There was unchecked chaos and destruction everywhere she looked. People running in the streets, gunfire, and the sounds of screams she heard through the rolled up windows. She didn’t see any of them, but suspected they were there, nonetheless.
Perhaps it was a miracle, or just dumb luck, but she managed to get back home without incident.
She told Jason her story in a breathless rush. By the time she was done, her skin had gone an ashy color and she was drenched in sweat. When he suggested they find a doctor in Gallatin to check her out, she waved him off.
“What we need to do,” she replied, “is find someone to take you in while I deal with this.”
Jason had learned over the years that there was no use arguing with momma, especially when she gave him the “look”. The woman could be downright scary when she wanted to be. So when she picked up the phone and tried to reach out to some of her friends in the area, he remained silent, even as he felt terrified about what was happening to his mother. She was still in charge, and until she said different, there was nothing her twelve-year-old boy could say about it.
After the final call, when Yvonne was unable to reach a single other person, she sat in a chair in the living room and took a deep breath. A few seconds later, she slapped her hands on her knees, announcing to Jason that she had come to a decision.
“There’s just one thing left we can do.”
Jason would never forget when his mother directed him to tie her arms and feet to her bed. She told him that if she got delirious, like the man at the hospital, she didn’t want him to be in any danger of getting scratched or bit. She also joked that it was ironic that she had been desperate to avoid that fate at the hospital, but now felt it was the only solution she had remaining at home.
“If I turn into one of those monsters, and I doubt I will, I don’t want to be able to hurt you. I don’t want to bite you like all those people you’ve seen on TV.”
Once again, Jason had the urge to argue with his momma, but even with her eyes getting cloudy with infection, she wielded an authority that bucked no debate from her son.
So he helped get her into bed, taking several extension cords and wrapping them around her wrists and ankles and then the bedposts. When he tried to be gentle with the knots he made, Yvonne chastised him, insisting he make sure she couldn’t break free.
“I plan on fighting like crazy against this virus, baby, but I’m not taking any chances with your safety. If I turn, I need to know you’ll be safe.”
After the knots were tied and before the tears could come, Jason’s momma told him to sit down next to her on the bed.
“Jason, you’re a stronger boy than you realize. I’ve always known that about you. I also know you resent me for taking you away from your father, but I think, deep down, you understand why I had to do it. He could never take care of you, even if he thought that what he was doing was good enough.
“I didn’t bring you to Ohio to make your life miserable, I brought you here to make you stronger. You needed to get away from that place and learn to stand on your own. I didn’t realize how quickly you would need to be able to do that, but God gives us challenges we think we aren’t prepared for because he knows better than us how strong we are, and how much we can handle.
“I’ve done the best I could for you. It wasn’t enough, but there isn’t any time left for me to do any more. Now I don’t want you crying for me. Instead, I want you to do exactly as I tell you.”
Jason’s mother tolerated no back talk, even as she grew weaker by the second. So he listened to every word she had to say, and despite his reservations, he did as she asked. He collected what he could into his backpack-clothes, food, a pocket knife, and the spare cash she had hidden in a shoebox at the back of her closet. She told him that money probably wouldn’t mean anything for much longer, but it might help him out of a tight jam with someone he came across.
Yvonne didn’t want her son going to one of those shelters, but knew there were few other options available to a twelve-year-old on their own. The scroll at the bottom of the television screen listed the different shelters in the Cincinnati area, and Gallatin high school, which was just a few miles away, was the closest one. He was to try and go to the neighbors first, and see if any of them would take him in, but if that didn’t work, or if he came across anyone acting suspicious, he was to run to that high school as fast as he could.
She told him the some people might not think twice about taking advantage of a young boy without any guardians, so he would have to stand tall and fend for himself. And once things calmed down and the world got back to normal, he would have to try to reach out to any family they had up north that was still alive. Yvonne hadn’t been able to reach any of them for a couple of days, but that didn’t mean they wouldn’t make it through this. And when they did, he needed to find them. They would take care of him.
Jason wondered if his mother actually believed that things would ever go back to normal. A cure sounded next to impossible from what he’d heard, and the military didn’t seem to be having any lucky anywhere as far as containing the spread of the contagion. After watching the news all day, and having heard horror stories coming in from across the globe for the last few days, the chances of the world ever being sane again was about as likely as momma being able to avoid succumbing to the virus.
She was the strongest person Jason had ever known, but no amount of determination to resist the rapid creep of the plague was going to keep her from changing. The doctors on TV had bickered back and forth on just about every minute detail related to the virus, but one thing they all agreed on was its 100% mortality and reanimation rate. If you were infected, you died, and then you came back.
After momma gave Jason her instructions and was certain he would carry them out, her voice became soft as she reminisced with him about their lives together. She told him stories about her youth she’d never revealed before and managed to get a few laughs out of him, even as the tears flowed despite her stern command he not weep for her.
On more than one occasion, Jason hinted that he wanted to remove the cords that bound her, but she would chastise him every time he tried, even when she grew delirious and her words were slurred.
Near the end she told him to leave, to get out of the house and go to the neighbors. He needed to find someone who could take him to the shelter, or away from this place. There was no more pretending. She was going to die and she had accepted that. He refused until she had to yell at him, telling him through her own tears that he needed to go, that she did not want him seeing her like this.
Jason pretended to leave, hiding at the front door after he slammed it shut. He slumped against it, crying silent tears while his mother lay dying down the hall. He wanted to untie her, cut her free and hold her tight one last time. And when he heard her loudly weeping, that desire became almost unbearable.
After the crying stopped about an hour later, Jason strained to hear anything coming from his mother’s bedroom. It didn’t take long for him to hear the wheezing as her struggles to breath became more pronounced. As he did, he laid his head on his knees. At that point, he’d been awake for nearly twenty four hours straight. His mother’s struggles with the virus had lasted through the night. So as he sat and listened to the ragged rhythm of her breathing, his eyelids continued to droop lower no matter how hard he fought against it.
One of Jason’s uncles had died of cancer, and he’d watched him gradually lose weight and hair from chemotherapy. It took several months, and the changes were gradual, but hard not to notice. When the man was brought home to be with his family for the last few days of his life, after the doctors had done everything they could for him, Jason was forced to go into his uncle’s bedroom one last time. The man’s eyes had sunken into their sockets and his skin was gray. The smell of illness in the room terrified the boy almost more than how his uncle’s looks had changed. There was a cloying scent of despair that hung heavy in the room. Even the reassuring grin his uncle gave him scared Jason. It made him look like one of the demonic creatures in a horror comic Jason’s dad had given him. His uncle’s eyes had gone from white to a jaundiced yellow, which added to the devilish effect.
What had happened to his mother was like a time lapse recording of the illness his uncle had suffered through. Several nightmarish months of agony jammed into a few hours of living hell, with the same terrible sights and smells that had given Jason nightmares for a year after his uncle died.
Jason woke with a start. He had been dreaming of his uncle, smiling up at him from his deathbed, telling him that his momma would be with him soon. As he spoke, he reached out with his hand, as if asking the boy to join them.
While he’d slept, the wheezing in the other room had stopped. The house was silent. Jason stood, fearful he’d missed the chance to rush back to his mother’s side to see her face and hold her hand one last time before she died. He couldn’t come to grips with the idea of his mother being taken away from him. How could some minor scratch undo such a larger than life person?
Jason listened for a few minutes, peering at the walls that separated his mother’s bed from where he was stood. Nothing. No sound at all. Had she passed? He had to know even though part of him was screaming that he needed to run away and not look back. He could pretend she was still alive if he wanted to. All he had to do was leave.
“Momma?”
His voice sounded timid, almost embarrassed. He half expected her to come bursting through the doorway, yelling at him to do as he’d been told and leave the house.
It didn’t happen. Nothing did.
Fear mingled with a sliver of courage that resided deep within the twelve-year-old; courage that came from realizing he had nothing left to lose.
“MOMMA!”
He waited. Sweat dripped down his face, rolling onto his upper lip. Droplets quivered there before falling to the floor. Jason moved his right foot forward with care, somehow afraid that the noise from a squeaky floorboard might upset momma even more than the fact that he’d yelled her name.
His foot was still hovering above the floor when he heard it.
The bed was making a creaking sound, but there was also another sound. One that was almost human.
The sweat pouring down his face and back turned to ice on his skin. An involuntary shiver wracked Jason’s body as he brought his foot down. Hairs on his arms and legs stood at attention and were almost painfully stiff as goose bumps covered every exposed inch of skin. His foot retreated to its original position and he remained locked in place at the front door.
It sounded like a moan coming from the bedroom, but not like any he’d ever heard before. He doubted that a human being in a normal state of mind could make a sound like that.
“Momma?”
It was the terrified little boy inside of him reaching out for her now. Tears mixed with the cold sweat and Jason’s vision became blurred. He thought he saw his mother in her nightgown, the one she had worn when she had gotten into bed. It was her favorite. She was walking out of the room, coming toward him, angry at him for not leaving as he’d been told to do. He slammed his back into the front door and gave a wailing cry of his own that didn’t sound quite as bad as the moaning, but had the effect of making the inhuman sound grow louder. Frantically wiping at his eyes, he blinked and saw there was nothing in front of him. Momma was still in her bedroom, tied down.
She needs you. Go to her.
Jason slid to the floor, hugging himself as he wept. No longer concerned about the amount of noise he made, the sound of his crying echoed through the small house. After a couple of minutes, his sense of loss turned to anger as the moaning increased in volume, as if his mother was mocking him.
“Shut up! You’re not my mother anymore! Just leave me alone!”
It’s your mother in there, how dare you yell at her? Go in there and apologize!
The moaning didn’t stop and his anger gradually changed, morphing into something closer to regret. He begged and pleaded, yet knowing somehow, on a coldly logical level, that the monster his mother had become would never listen to him again. At the same time, the voice inside his head, the one that knew nothing of logic or sanity, kept whispering to him that he should go to his mother, that she needed him.
Jason knew it wouldn’t stop until it drove him mad.
That was about all the twelve-year-old was sure of anymore. That and the fact that there was no way he could face his mother ever again. Not with what she had become.
He turned away from the noises and stared at the front door of the house. This was no longer his home, and even as the strange voice inside tugged at him, he could feel the house pushing him away.
You are no longer welcome here. This is a place for the dead.
Jason leaned his forehead against the cold, unforgiving wood of the door and banged it against the pine gently, but repeatedly.
“I’m sorry momma. I love you, but I’m sorry. I can’t stay here anymore. Goodbye.”
It was a lousy eulogy, but was all he could think to say. The maniacal voice inside his head screamed at him to turn around and go to her, but he blotted it out, screaming and cursing at it.
Momma was gone.
Walking out the door, Jason didn’t look back as it slammed behind him. He stepped out onto the grass, unconcerned with where he was going. The world around him was in panic and upheaval. Several of the neighbors had fled, their front doors flung open while others had already in the process of barricading their homes. He didn’t concern himself with any of them, even as several called out to him, screaming his name. The blare of sirens and the sound of gunfire in the background also didn’t distract him.
He picked up his feet and ran, moving swiftly past his neighborhood. His only plan was to keep on running, perhaps all the way to Detroit, if he could. He would run until his legs gave out, his heart exploded inside his chest, or one of those things caught him and tore him to pieces. That was the only thought he had left in his head. He would run until he died.
*
By the time the soldiers caught up with him twenty minutes later, all the tears had dried and the stony visage that George knew so well had taken their place.
December 25, 2010 | Categories: Comes The Dark, Dark Stories, Into The Dark | Tags: comes the dark, dark stories, horror, Into The Dark, Library of the Living Dead, short stories, writing, zombies | Leave a comment
Ursula K Raphael, who has gotten some big props in the zombie community lately for her letter published in Entertainment Weekly championing the cause of small press zombie writers everywhere, has written a dual review of Comes The Dark and Into The Dark over on Zombiephiles website. So for all of you folks who haven’t gotten either of my books yet, this is a great way to get the full overview of both at the same time. I am pretty thrilled with the review, especially when her biggest gripe is the fact that both my books were over too damn quickly. If that is the worst complaint you ever get about your writing, you are doing pretty well! Seriously though, I am once again humbled by the fact that someone who really loves this genre seems to be really enjoying my books. There is no better feeling.
So give the review a look see over at Zombiephiles here: http://www.zombiephiles.com/zombies-ate-my-brains/library-of-the-living-dead-does-it-again-patrick-dorazio
and then go buy both my books, if you haven’t already. 😉
December 21, 2010 | Categories: Comes The Dark, Into The Dark | Tags: book review, comes the dark, horror, Into The Dark, Library of the Living Dead, zombies | Leave a comment
Another review has been posted on Into the Dark and I have to admit I am pretty pleased by the response of the folks over at Sonar 4 Landing Dock. My favorite quote from this review has to be this: “D’Orazio grabs the reader and pulls them into this story with a large violent hook and you’re stuck, but what does happen is you don’t mind being stuck, actually you love it.”
Wow! That is pretty dang flattering.
Check out the full review here: http://sonar4landingdockreviews.blogspot.com/2010/12/into-dark-by-patrick-d-orazio-review.html?zx=e2ff0ef7837054b8
and of course, get yourself a copy of Into The Dark and judge for yourself!
December 18, 2010 | Categories: Into The Dark | Tags: book review, horror, Into The Dark, Library of the Living Dead, zombies | Leave a comment
I recently had the chance to answer some questions for Erika Gilbert for Permuted Press about my books, my experiences as an author, and on writing in general. It was fun to do and I hope you’ll check it out!
Hit this link to go to my interview: http://permutedpress.blogspot.com/2010/12/interview-author-patrick-dorazio.html
Many thanks to Erika for asking the questions and Jacob over at Permuted Press for hosting the interview!
December 2, 2010 | Categories: Comes The Dark, Into The Dark, My Writing Experiences | Tags: comes the dark, dark stories, horror, interview, Into The Dark, Permuted Press, writing, zombies | Leave a comment
I promised that once this interview was posted that I would post it here. Ben Rogers and I were interviewed by Greg Amortis over at “The Creepture Feature Horrorshow” podcast about our novels. Check it out, and check out some of the other great podcasts that Greg and the gang have done besides their visit to Horror Hound.
Here is the link: http://thecreepturefeaturehorrorshow.com/2010/11/28/podcast-25—special-episode—interviews-from-horror-hound-2010-in-ohio.aspx
Our interviews start around the 25 minute mark, so check it out!
December 2, 2010 | Categories: Comes The Dark, Into The Dark, My Writing Experiences | Tags: comes the dark, Creepture Feature Horrorshow, Into The Dark, Library of the Living Dead, podcast, writing, zombies | Leave a comment
Well, I kept my promise. This final piece in the George and Jason introductory puzzle is complete and posted below. Please note, there will be another, briefer story about Jason that I will be posting next-it actually takes a further step back, and details his experiences before he met up with George and the others at the emergency shelter. But that is for another day. With this section of the George and Jason tale, we conclude their experiences up to where they meet Jeff and Megan.
And for a little plug for all of you out there: make sure you check out the sequel to Comes The Dark, which is Into The Dark. It is available on Amazon and Smashwords. I may be posting a few Dark Stories about some of the characters found in that book as well in the upcoming weeks, so stay tuned. You will want to have read the second book before you check them out.
And just as a reminder, if you haven’t read all the Dark Stories yet, go over to that page and you can read them all in order, including this one. Thanks!
As always, I do my best to clean up any typos and grammar errors before I post these, but I am sure I missed a few here and there.
So without further ado, here ya go!
George and Jason, Part 4
The tears did flow as George sat in the room with the unread romance novel open on his lap as he relived those last moments standing outside of the church. He was crying for Jason. He was crying for Al and Jennifer. He was crying for the family he still hadn’t returned to. But mostly, he was crying for a world that was lost forever.
***
They managed to make it inside the church. The metal shard had enough left in it to shatter a window too high for George to crawl through. He managed to boost Jason up to it, and the kid was able to climb inside. He unlocked a lower window, which allowed George to climb in and lock it behind him.
The bright flashes of light from explosives and spotlight out on the street diminished as the night went on, so it was difficult for either of the refugees to see much inside the room they were in. All they knew was that they had made it to a classroom for preschoolers, based on the tiny desks spread around the room. They didn’t feel up to exploring, so instead they huddled behind the teacher’s desk.
The sounds of battle diminished, though George couldn’t help imagining more screams out on the street. The logical part of his brain knew he couldn’t hear them from where he was hunkered down, but that didn’t make the nightmares any less real. The only comfort was that despite the fact that they could still hear the drone of the undead, it was greatly reduced and appeared to be getting further away as the night wore on.
George knew what that meant, but tried not to dwell on it. The ghouls had broken through the last barriers and were inside the schools, tearing through the last of the living.
We’re alone now. It was the cold, harsh thought that stayed with George throughout the night.
Dawn broke after a couple of sleepless hours. George was shocked when he realized Jason had dozed off shortly after they’d gotten through the windows and settled in behind the desk.
Rooting around, they found a few rags and were able to clean off the worst of the gore that cover both of them. After that, they set out to explore the place and see what rooms they could barricade from outside assaults.
George promised Jason that they would stay here for only a couple of days, until he figured out an escape strategy. The boy listened to the promise impassively, seemingly unconcerned about their current situation.
They pulled down blinds on the windows that had them and propped a few cafeteria tables up in front of other windows that faced the road. They secured the exits as best they could, which amounted to little more than moving a few desks in front of the doors and praying the undead wouldn’t notice that someone was now inhabiting the church.
A search of the premises revealed a small stash of food and drinks—stale crackers and juice boxes left over from the previous school year. The box full of bottled water was a nice bonus, along with a stash of junk food George found hidden in a janitor’s closet. It was better than nothing and would prevent them from starving if they were forced to stay for a while. They claimed their bedrooms on the second floor and hunkered down.
After a couple of days with no attacks on the church, they were able to relax a bit and start monitoring the situation outside. The amount of rotters roaming the streets was diminishing. With the lure of warm flesh gone, George’s best guess was that they had wandered into the schools, away from the blazing sun. A few would pop out of the school buildings every now and then. George would watch them from the second floor as they stumbled around, picking at the Humvees and other vehicles that were now collecting dust.
That was when George wondered if those sad creatures still had a shred of humanity left to them. He couldn’t help but compare them to the boy he was hiding out with. Jason was acting more like some sort of drone or robot with each day that passed. Nothing George did seemed to break down any of the kid’s hard earned barriers. The twelve year old spoke only when absolutely necessary. He followed George’s rules without question or complaint. He knew that they needed to be quiet; he knew that if he went on the first floor he was not allowed to let any of the doors slam shut and he needed to stay away from the windows. But none of that came up too often, because Jason spent most of his time in his room up on the second floor, alone.
Days passed and time crawled. George plotted and planned different possible escapes. At the same time, he felt the strong need to keep Jason sheltered, to prevent even more damage from occurring to him. He prayed to God to give him an idea of what to do and when to do it. He stared out windows and went through different scenarios in his mind. Every single one ended up with the two of them being surrounded and devoured by those things. Time ticked by and after a while, the ideas ran dry. George needed to get to his family, but he wouldn’t risk the boy’s life to do it.
The slim hope that someone might come to their rescue disappeared not long after they arrived in the church. George had held out little hope for the Ninth Infantry to come blasting in or some Navy SEALs to sneak them away, but he tried to hold on to the belief that there was someone, anyone, out there and that they were trying to figure out a way to save the people who were trapped, like him and Jason.
The thought that some savior might show up and save them was a ludicrous fantasy, but George couldn’t help thinking about it every now and then.
Mostly, George slept. And when he wasn’t sleeping, he would exercise. He would do sit ups, push ups, jog around the gym … anything to distract himself from the current situation.
The weeks went by and the food continued to diminish, but nothing happened-either outside or inside the church.
George was about to doze off after a pretty aggressive workout when he was jolted out of his daze by the Jason, who was peering at him through his bedroom door.
It was shocking to see the boy; he never entered George’s room. Now here he was-the door partially opened with him leaning in with a look George had forgotten could exist on Jason’s face: excitement.
“Someone’s here.”
It was all the kid had to say for George to jump up and get moving. No questions, no skepticism. Those two words were the most he had heard from Jason in several days and the emotion he displayed in the few seconds it took George to rush through the door was more than he had shown since they had gotten to the church. Jason waved him on, pointing toward one of the small windows at the end of the hall.
“Okay, Okay,” George said as Jason grabbed him by the arm and yanked him to the window.
The windows faced the street and were spaced far enough apart that you couldn’t see directly below, due to the roofline of the building, but you were able to see most of the street between the two of them. Jason was pointing out the left window, frantically jabbing at something down below.
“Over there!”
George moved up to the window and saw what the boy was so excited about. It was some sort of van slowing down in front of the high school. It was blue and he could see the silhouette of a driver who appeared to be staring at the sign posted nearby that stated:
GALLATIN EMERGENCY SHELTER. ALL FAMILIES AND INDIVIDUALS REPORT TO THE GYM FOR REGISTRATION.
One suitcase per family, clothes only. No pets! All food and water is provided. All food and water brought on the premises will be confiscated. NO FIREARMS! Please have valid state or federal ID available for inspection. Thank you for your cooperation.
George had memorized those words and even dreamt about tearing down the sign on more than one occasion. It felt like a mass grave marker to him; a sign painted in the blood of dead soldiers and refugees.
It was a man behind the wheel, George could see. He was wearing a tee shirt and a ball cap. Other than that, it was hard to tell much about him through the dirty window of the vehicle. The man was gesticulating at a passenger as the van slowed to a stop.
George could tell the vehicle had been through the ringer. It was banged up and splattered with gore. The rear windows were tinted and it was nearly impossible to tell if there was more than the driver and the person he was talking to inside. Got room for a couple of hitchhikers?
“Should we open the window and yell down to them?”
George shook his head at the excited plea as he continued watching the dark blue minivan inch down the street.
A cynical side of George did want yell out at the fools to tell them that they had picked the wrong street to cruise down. But mostly, he felt like he had just been shocked by defibrillation paddles. His heart was racing and his pulse was going through the roof with insane hope. Less than one hundred yards from where he and Jason stood were the only living beings they’d seen in ages.
The van came to an abrupt stop at the sign. The driver had probably read it, but was still jabbering at their passenger. What in the Lords name are these two squawking about? What could be so damnably important? George was getting irritated just watching the scene unfold below. He noticed Jason glancing over at him and realized he was mumbling, talking to the driver. He slammed his mouth shut and both he and the boy returned to looking at the vehicle.
“No.”
“Huh?” Jason responded to the whispered word as he continued staring out the window. He jumped when George exploded a moment later.
“No, God dammit, no!”
George slammed his fist against the glass, rattling it in its frame. Jason was surprised to hear the supposedly religious man he’d shared this place with lash out with blasphemy.
Looking back out the window, he knew why George had lost his composure. Dead people were surging out of the schools on both sides of the road.
The van shot forward, and Jason wanted to scream along with the man next to him, yelling at the driver to come back. The vehicle moved of sight down the road past where they could see them.
Their rescuers were going to leave before they even knew he and George were here.
Jason was angry at the people in the minivan. He wanted to lash out at them, kick them, and beat on them. In that moment he hated the other survivors for everything that had gone wrong in his life. Every bit of his pent up rage that had been festering for weeks came to the surface in an instant.
The twelve year old grabbed George’s arm and pulled on it until the big man snapped out of his angry trance. Jason almost dropped his hand when he saw the seething anger in the man’s eyes. It looked like it was directed at him and he was ready to move backwards out of the range of those large clenched fists. But the anger dissipated and Jason realized George wasn’t angry, he was frustrated.
“We need to go after them. We have to leave here, now. I can’t stay here anymore.”
George had a surprised look on his face. His mouth opened as he tried to sputter out a response, but Jason spoke again before he could.
“I know those people took off and those dead things are out there, but if we go out back we could sneak around those creeps, we can track those people down. They have to stop sooner or later. We have to try!”
George shook his head as he watched Jason’s face grow more panic-stricken with each word.
“It won’t work.”
Before the boy could blurt out a protest, George continued. “The van will be coming back anyway.”
Jason looked confused, but if what George was saying was true, it was all the better.
“Then we have to go downstairs. We have to let them know we’re here! Come on!”
Now it was George holding Jason’s arm, easily keeping him from racing for the steps. George continued to shake his head, a resigned look on his face. The tug of war lasted only a couple of seconds until George snapped.
“Jason! Shut up and listen!” The command had the desired effect and Jason steadied, at least for a moment. George turned and pointed out the window down the street in the direction the vehicle had headed. “Can you see out past the schools?”
Jason’s vision was pretty good, but the road was curved and the church was far enough back on the road that it was hard to see that far. He shook his head.
“I’ve been looking out this window, just like you have, for a month now. I’ve looked at it from every angle. Believe me-I’ve tried figuring a way out of here … probably a million different times.”
George pointed and Jason followed his finger. He saw the blue spec that was the minivan, way down the road.
“See them there?”
Jason nodded.
“That’s as far as they go. There’s a bunch of vehicles down there blocking the road … and here they come again.”
The van had turned around and was heading back toward the church. George’s resigned voice deflated Jason’s enthusiasm, but seeing the van return still excited him.
The kid turned to rush to the stairs and George did not grab him this time. Instead, it was his words that stopped him cold this time.
“They’re dead already.”
Jason halted his progress and turned back to look at George, an angry and puzzled look on his face.
“See for yourself.”
Jason hesitated, fearful of what he might see, but his curiosity was too much for him to resist as he moved back to the window.
The van was skidding around the parking lot next to the church. The angle wasn’t great and Jason could barely see the vehicle, but the van was getting closer and was surrounded by crowds of the undead.
The driver was darting in and out of the horde and was having a small amount of success, but from their elevated vantage George and Jason knew what was about to happen.
The van would run out of space. There were too many monsters to ram through. They would be forced to stop, and the driver and his passenger would be torn to pieces.
Jason watched the vehicle pitch and weave and knew in his heart they were doomed. He glanced over at George and realized the old man was only watching the scene unfold out of some morbid sense of curiosity, not because he was hoping the driver would figure out a way to escape.
“I can’t stay here. I’m going to help those people.”
Jason turned and ran for the stairs. He had no idea what he was going to do, but he had to do it fast. He had hit the bottom of the steps when George caught up to him and whipped him around by the arm.
“Are you crazy? Have you completely lost your mind? Jason, I know being stuck here sucks, but that doesn’t mean you should go on some suicide mission to try and save some people who are already dead!”
The anger on Jason’s face as he wriggle free of George’s grasp startled the man. He was even more stunned when Jason slammed a fist into his chest.
“I’m not going to kill myself! I’m gonna to save those people and they’re gonna take me out of here. You and those creeps aren’t going to stop me either!”
Jason kept punching George as he raged. It was like hitting a side of beef, but he didn’t care. The anger he’d felt only moments before toward the people outside had been redirected toward the man he perceived to be his jailor. George, stunned by the outburst, couldn’t react. He could only watch as tears of rage formed in Jason’s eyes.
That’s when it all crashed down on George like a ton of bricks. He’d been sheltering Jason all this time, believing that the boy was some fragile child who needed to be kept safe from the horrors outside the door. The reality was that it was impossible to keep him safe. Not here, not anywhere. Jason already knew this, and was willing to take any risk necessary to get the hell out of this mausoleum they’d been dying in for far too long.
If we hide out in this place any longer, we’ll die here. It was a simple thought, clear and precise in George’s brain. The clearest though he’d had since they’d arrived.
An image of Helen popped into his head. She was listening to him talk on his cell phone from the high school gym. He was promising her would be home soon, that nothing would stand in his way of getting back to his wife and daughters.
So what the hell have you done since then, George Montgomery? A whole lot of covering your ass, that’s what.
Taking a deep breath, George grabbed Jason’s hands and held them tight, bringing his full strength to bear in an effort to control the erratic kid. Looking him in the eyes, he smiled at the twelve year old.
“Ok, let’s do it.”
He nearly laughed at the surprised look on Jason’s face.
Jason’s surprise turned to joy and he tried to move away, but George pulled him back until they were facing each other once again.
“But we do this my way, ok?”
George peered into Jason’s brown eyes with a steely glare. They looked at each other and an understanding passed between them. After a moment Jason nodded vigorously. George smiled at him and winked, which elicited a confused grin from Jason.
“Come on, we don’t have much time,” George said as he wrapped his arm around the boy’s neck and gave it squeeze.
They moved toward the gym, ready to get down to business.
***
The run out onto the street felt liberating this time. For the first time since that horrible night long ago he was doing something. It was rash and there was a good chance it would be fatal, but this was the choice George had made: choosing a dangerous risk rather than slowly dying with only dust and despair to mark his final resting place.
When it came right down to it, there it had been no real choice at all.
He told Jason to sit tight while he ran across the street. He would make a break for the water tower as the attention of the horde was directed toward the people in the van. Hopefully the effort (along with the screaming and yelling he would do once he got to the tower) would lure enough of the mob in his direction and give the van a chance to break free and Jason a chance to either flag them down or escape into the woods behind the church.
After that, the plan was for George to run away from the tower before it was surrounded, or for him climb the sucker if he had to. He didn’t want to think too much about what would happen if he was forced to choose the latter option.
The first part of his plan went off without a hitch. There were some stragglers still roaming on the street as he ran across, but George only had to bowl over a couple. The rest were far too slow to react before he made it to the fence.
As he was running, he could see the woods beyond the tower and a twisted urge to keep on running raced through his mind, but the temptation passed as quickly as it came. George knew he had stood by doing nothing as far too many people died to even consider that possibility. He increased his speed and hit the chain link fence a second later.
As he climbed the fence, he realized that getting up the water tower would be next to impossible. There were X-shaped struts running between the metal stems of the tower, but no ladder to be seen.
George bit his tongue as nervous laughter almost escaped his lips. It was far too late to turn back. He reached the top of the fence and balanced there, one leg tossed over as he twisted his body around so he was facing the mass of dead bodies surrounding the van. The few he’d passed were moving in his direction, though most remained focused on the van. He glanced over at the woods one last time.
Take a deep breath, he closed his eyes. The buzzing noise he’d discovered a few weeks back had returned, bringing with it memories of that terrible night. The solider on top of the truck, bodies being torn to pieces everywhere he looked, Al bleeding to death on the asphalt, and Jennifer’s last words.
Feeling dizzy, George opened his eyes again, keeping his precarious balance atop his narrow perch. He focused on the van and took a deep breath.
He screamed. It was a long, howling wail contorted with pain and a rage that George didn’t realize he’d been holding in all that time. He clenched a fist and raised it up high, shaking it at the demons spread out before him.
In that moment, it came to him. The prayer he’d forgotten on THAT night—the one he thought he believed he’d never memorized, but must have, years before. It thundered out of him, billowing forth as if he was an avenging angel:
“The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness For His name’s sake. Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil; For You are with me; Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me. You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies; You anoint my head with oil; My cup runs over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me All the days of my life; And I will dwell in the house of the LORD Forever!”
As he began shouting, they turned. As he continued, his voice rising, more came forward as they forgot the van. They moved as one, drawn forward by his words. It felt like that even as the rational part of his brain told George they were only coming to him because he was food; food that was screaming like a lunatic for all the world to see.
He didn’t care. What he did care about was how it felt to finally curse the monsters that had caused all this. All his emotions: the rage, the fear, the helplessness were funneled into the words he spat out at these interlopers and cast-offs. As he shook his fists at them, it was as if he was calling thunderbolts down from heaven at the heaving mass of death dragging itself toward him.
When the speech was done and the fervor gone, George tried to comprehend the response he got. His words had bounced off his impassive congregation like everything else the human race had thrown at them. But at least they were coming for him-that much was certain.
Jumping down inside the small compound, he watched as the first of the raggedy monsters slammed into the fence. George stepped back, getting the first daylight close-up of one of the creeps, as Jason called them. He had seen enough of them in the dark, but now was getting a full Technicolor display of the dead soldiers and refugees he’d shared the high school gymnasium with.
As gruesome as the crowd was, George was still relieved. He didn’t recognize anyone, and the niggling fear Al or Jennifer might crop up was something he doubted he could handle. But if they were in the crowd, they were indistinguishable from the rest of the rotting mass of corpses, which was a small blessing.
The fence appeared to be strong enough to keep the army of slavering maniacs at bay for at least few minutes. The rust on it didn’t inspire confidence, but at least the invasion force pounding on the chain link didn’t appear to have much in the way of climbing skills. All they could do was press their swelling, overheated carcasses up against the fence as they bashed at it and hissed at George. They seemed almost insulted that the meat so tantalizingly close was not willingly sacrificing itself.
More and more corpses crowded up against the fence. They were drawing attention of others … it was a domino effect: even those that could not have possibly seen or heard him were moving in his direction, away from the van.
Looking through the gaps in the crowd, George could see that there were fewer bodies pressed up against the Odyssey. It wasn’t rocking back and forth anymore, though many persistent attackers were still engaged in an effort to crack into it.
George frowned, his frustration with the driver of the minivan surfacing. Why haven’t they tried moving yet?
The path was clear, or so it seemed, though it was getting harder for him to see over the bodies tugging at the fence. He did see a smaller group of the infected splitting off from the main force coming in his direction. They were on the opposite side of the street, still near the van, but moving toward the church.
Looking over at his old hideout, George groaned. The kid had done it. He’d disobeyed the order to sit tight and wait. When all the attention was drawn away from the church, Jason would have had his chance to take off. Until then, he was supposed to be safe behind the closed doors.
Now that was shot to hell.
George watched in stunned silence as the twelve year old whipped a clunky text book out one of the second floor windows at the crowd of onlookers gathered around the front of the church. The book spun like an oversized shuriken and sideswiped what may have been an elderly woman. The creature had a cloud of messy white hair and the tattered remains of a flower print dress on, which were the only hints at its gender. The book spun the recipient of the blow around, but didn’t knock it over. What it did do was draw its attention, and moments later it was clawing and beating at the church doors.
Where the hell did he get the book? It didn’t matter much, but George surmised that Jason must have done some exploring in the classrooms and found a few teaching manuals. More rectangular missiles flew out of the window, smashing into the heads of the ghouls down below. Though it was hard to tell from a distance, it looked to George as if Jason was enjoying himself.
“Get out of there now, dammit. GET OUT!”
It was pointless-the kid couldn’t hear him. The maddening sound of hornets was too loud, and they were vibrating every bone in George’s body. He could barely hear himself.
Resisting the temptation to launch his body at a part of the fence still bare of smashed-up bodies, George paced behind the walls of his prison as more stiffened corpses made the pilgrimage to the church. His movements were spreading the ghouls out around the perimeter of the fence. As they tried following him, more blocked his view of the van and the church. He wanted to signal for Jason to just cut and run, but it was fast becoming clear that for the first time in a long time, the boy’s fate was entirely out of his hands.
The crowd outside the fence continued to shift, moving to the side of the compound George was closest to-at least most of them were doing that. There were more than enough to spread around and those pressed up against the chain link appeared unwilling to give up their prime spots along the fence line.
George knew he would have to make a break for it soon. The fence was starting to sway as more bodies pressed against it. It wouldn’t be long before it collapsed.
He was still sizing things up when he heard the roar of the van’s engine. Finally! At least the people in the van would be able to escape this nightmare, even if he and Jason were screwed.
Even as he thought about how futile this whole rescue effort had been, George had to smile. It beat sitting on his ass until he starved to death.
Moments later, George’s eyes widened as the sound of metal crunching against metal jolted him out of his reverie and he saw the blue prow of the minivan heading in his direction.
He managed to dive out of the way as the Odyssey plowed through the fence, smashing at least five stiffs into its grill as it did so.
George wobbled to his feet, still in a daze, as he finally got a good view of the scraggly driver of van when he rolled his window down. At the same time, the cargo door on the minivan slowly opened. A thin, haggard looking woman stood behind the door, a massive revolver in her tiny hands.
He was still staring at these ragged people, trying to comprehend what had just happened, when he heard one of them shout “Get in!”
November 30, 2010 | Categories: Dark Stories | Tags: comes the dark, dark stories, horror, Into The Dark, Library of the Living Dead, short stories, zombies | Leave a comment
Well, I guess I was expecting the book to be available on Createspace first. I was given the link by my publisher, but it never seemed to work. I am guessing that it is there, but somehow, it never got connected as it should.
But that is okay be me, because being on Amazon means that it is ready to go and you can go and place your order for it right away!
So check it out, tell all your friends. Into The Dark is here! Just click on the picture to head on over to Amazon.com to pick up your copy.
November 27, 2010 | Categories: Into The Dark | Tags: horror, Into The Dark, Library of the Living Dead, writing, zombies | 4 Comments
The paperback version of Into The Dark will be going live in the next day or so, but the Smashwords version of it has been posted already! And at the low, low cost of just $2.99, it is a great deal for all you e-book fans out there.
As mentioned in the prior post on this blog, there will not be a kindle version of book 2 or 3 by themselves, but due to the unedited version of the entire trilogy being on the kindle for the past few months, we will be re-releasing the entire trilogy on Kindle in March, along with another book-sized volume of short stories related to the world of the Dark Trilogy.
More details to follow on the paperback version of Into The Dark, but for now, here is the link where you can get the electronic version on Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/31068
Check it out, and feel free to drop a review on Smashwords or Amazon, your blog, your website, or where ever you like. I hope you all enjoy the second installment in my trilogy!
You can click on the picture and follow the link to Smashwords as well. Thanks.
November 23, 2010 | Categories: Into The Dark | Tags: comes the dark, cover art, horror, Into The Dark, Library of the Living Dead, writing, zombies | Leave a comment
I wanted to post this as soon as this was official.
Press Release: Library of the Living Dead
November 22, 2010
The Library of the Living Dead would like to announce that the current Kindle version of Comes The Dark, by Patrick D’Orazio, is no longer be available, as of today, in anticipation of a revised and edited version being released to coincide with the paperback release of the third book of the trilogy, Beyond The Dark, in March of 2011.
It was recently discovered that some of the copies of the Kindle version of Comes The Dark included an early, unedited version of the entire Dark trilogy, including Comes The Dark, Into the Dark, and Beyond The Dark. Because of this discovery, the Library of the Living Dead will not be releasing the edited versions of Into The Dark and Beyond The Dark separately as kindle books. Instead, it will be releasing a Revised and Edited version of the trilogy, which will include all three books along with several bonus short stories from the realm of the dark trilogy that will be exclusive to this new kindle release.
The release of the paperback versions of Into The Dark and Beyond The Dark will go forward as planned, with Into The Dark being released in December of 2010, and Beyond The Dark being released in March of 2011.
More details about the Revised and Edited Kindle version of the Dark trilogy will be revealed before the scheduled release date.
Those who purchased the Kindle and got the entire trilogy got a glimpse of the raw, unedited version of the book. Given the reviews that have been posted that were based on that, I can’t complain. This wasn’t how things were exactly planned, but it works out quite well, giving my publisher and I the chance to re-release the entire trilogy on Kindle in a few months with some really nice bonus materials. That plus Into The Dark will be out within the next few days, which I am really excited about.
November 22, 2010 | Categories: Comes The Dark, Into The Dark | Tags: comes the dark, dark stories, editing, horror, Into The Dark, kindle, Library of the Living Dead, short stories, zombies | Leave a comment
The first review of Into the Dark is up and I am pretty pleased with it. Todd Brown did a great job being honest with both his praise and criticism of Comes The Dark and does so again here.
He does mention some confusion with the timelines, and that the second book jumps too far forward. The first book takes place six weeks after the apocalypse has begun, and the second book is just a couple of days after that. So I hope the confusion there isn’t something that causes problems with too many readers. If so, I apologize for that. Anyway, I just wanted to bring that up since it was a concern of Todd’s with this review and want to alleviate that concern as best I can.
So check it out here: www.maydecemberpublications.com/reviews-2/
November 19, 2010 | Categories: Comes The Dark, Into The Dark | Tags: book review, comes the dark, horror, Into The Dark, Library of the Living Dead, May December Publishers, writing, zombies | 2 Comments
Another review up for Comes The Dark over at Monster Librarian. It comes with a word of warning that this is the first book of a planned trilogy and ends with a cliff hanger. Well, fear not, gentle reader, because Into The Dark, the sequel, shall be out in the next week or so! After that, Beyond The Dark appears in March of next year, completing the trilogy. So there is nothing to fear here!
Anyway, check out the review at this link: http://monsterlibrarian.com/zombies.htm#Comes_The_Dark_
Yet another reason to check out the first book in my trilogy, if you still needed another reason to do so!
November 18, 2010 | Categories: Comes The Dark, Into The Dark, My Writing Experiences | Tags: book review, comes the dark, horror, Into The Dark, Library of the Living Dead, zombies | Leave a comment
Hey folks-check out my interview out from Night of the Living Podcast from Horror Hound. You should check them out for a lot more-they do a great horror podcast and can be found on Itunes for free downloads. Their website is http://www.notlp.com and you can go to the episode guide from there. It is the most recent episode in their episode guide, and is entitled: HHWCincy10. The Library of the Living Dead has an interview as well, and their interview starts around the seven minute mark. Mine starts at 15:40 mark. Check both of them out and do yourself a favor and listen to the whole podcast! These guys are great and do a terrific job. In fact, you should do like I did, and subscribe so you can stay up to date with what they are doing.
November 18, 2010 | Categories: Comes The Dark, Into The Dark, Random Thoughts | Tags: comes the dark, convention, horror, Horror Hound, Into The Dark, Library of the Living Dead, NOTLP | Leave a comment
I spent this last weekend with several good friends over at HorrorHound, promoting my book: Comes The Dark and the soon to be released sequel, Into The Dark. It was fun mingling with a wide cross-section of horror fans, chat about my books, and have the chance to spend time with Ben Rogers, author of Faith And The Undead, Beth LaFond, Publicist for The Library of the Living Dead, Rich Dalzatto, who runs Horror Realm up in Pittsburgh, and Dr. Pus, aka Mike West, who owns The Library of the Living Dead. I helped my fellow table dwellers sell some of their books and they did the same for me, and we had a good chance to hang out together not only at the show, but at Coco Key’s water park on Saturday night, which is attached to the hotel where the convention took place. I was able to bring my wife and kids along to that event and we had a blast.
I also had the privilege of being interviewed for two podcasts while at the show-stay tuned for links as they are passed long to me. It is always fun to promote my stories and the folks at Night of the Living Podcast and The Creepture Feature Horror Show were great to talk with.
I didn’t take a lot of pictures at the show, but suffice it to say, the crowds were great and things were hopping. I sold a pretty good amount of my books and even met some folks who had already purchased it and had some great conversations with them. Here a few pictures I took when my wife and kids showed up on Saturday.
From left to right: Rich Dalzatto, Dr. Pus, my son Zack, me, my daughter Ali, and Ben Rogers…and Zeb, the zombie that lives in the shed out behind Ben’s house
Me and the kids at my table
Dr. Pus, Zack, me, Ali, and Ben
November 16, 2010 | Categories: Comes The Dark, Into The Dark, My Writing Experiences, Other folk's stuff..., Random Thoughts | Tags: comes the dark, convention, horror, HorrorHound, Into The Dark, Library of the Living Dead, zombies | 1 Comment
Well, here is a finalized version of the cover for Into The Dark, along with the rough up of the back cover. Now it is all in my publisher’s hands-the formatting is complete and has been sent off to him and now the final cover has as well. Once again, a huge thank you goes out to Philip R. Rogers, artist extraordinaire, who created this masterpiece. His art can be found at philipr.deviantart.com/gallery/. Check it out and see how talented this guy is.
As you can guess, I am pretty dang thrilled about this and am excited to get this book out there to continue the story. More updates to come as I get them!
November 5, 2010 | Categories: Comes The Dark, Into The Dark | Tags: comes the dark, cover art, horror, Into The Dark, Library of the Living Dead, writing, zombies | 2 Comments
Well, just about everything is ready to go on my sequel to Comes The Dark. Philip R. Rogers once again did a fantastic job on the cover art. While it is not officially finished, outside of a few touches, it is ready to go. I wanted to thank him for putting that effort at the top of the list when my publisher decided we should move the publication date up on Into The Dark so it can be released before Christmas. The cover image transition from the first book to second book and what we both envision for book three is terrific, both for the front and back cover. Philip gets the credit for keeping the theme and tone on track and I can’t wait to compare all three books side by side when all is said and done.
I also have to give some pretty high praise to Kody Boye, the formatting wizard who got the formatting done in no time flat on this book. I kept the formatting identical to the first book, which he admits made it easier on him, but I can’t deny how impressive it was to see it back so quickly. After one more quick run through, it was as good as done, after just a few days of passing along the finalized manuscript to him. Of course, Michelle Linhart, my editor, deserves huge helpings of praise for taking on this entire project of all three books and doing a terrific job with it.
I will be revealing the second cover once Philip gets me the final version-I don’t want to provide the ‘raw’ footage of the almost complete cover here with it so close to being done, so it will be a few days still-but soon, very soon. Stay tuned for that-I hope you all like it as much as I do.
Also, more Dark Stories are upcoming here on my blog, but make sure you check out the latest installment, George and Jason, Part 2, which is a few posts down from this one, or head on over on my Dark Stories Page, which has all the Dark stories I have created thus far, all in order. I will continue to post them as long as I have material that is worthy of being put into the blog from the original manuscripts I wrote for the trilogy.
I know I have posted this several times previously, but here again is the back cover description for Into The Dark:
Six weeks ago, the mysterious virus came out of nowhere and engulfed the world. Everyone infected seemed to die … then rise again.
Jeff Blaine did his best to hold his family together and to protect them from the horrors scratching at their door, but in the end, they were ripped away from him like everything else that ever mattered.
Lost and alone, Jeff decided his only option was to destroy as many of the monsters that stole his life away before they destroy him as well. But when he discovers Megan, George, and Jason, three other survivors not interested in giving up just yet, he reluctantly accepts that there might still be a reason to fight and live to see another day.
Traveling through the blasted landscape their world has become, the quartet discovers that the living dead aren’t the only danger with which they must cope. Even other survivors who promise safety and security from the hordes of ghouls roaming the wastelands will test loyalties and their faith in humankind.
Jeff and his small band of newfound friends must forge a semblance of life in the newly blighted world. And they will have only the light of their own humanity by which to navigate as everything around them descends into the dark.
Stay tuned for more info-I will post it as I get it. Thanks!
November 3, 2010 | Categories: Comes The Dark, Dark Stories, Into The Dark | Tags: comes the dark, horror, Into The Dark, Library of the Living Dead, writing, zombies | Leave a comment
I thought it would be a good idea to pass along a few updates on things. First off, I wanted to thank Frank and the other folks at That Book Place for their hospitality this past Saturday. The book signing with Ben Rogers was a great experience and their book store is a fantastic place. If you are ever near Madison, Indiana, you HAVE to check it out. Great used books and they can order up any new ones that you are interested in as well.
In other news, the second book in my trilogy, Into the Dark, has been sent off to be formatted. Yep, the editing is complete and my obsessive-compulsive need to read it fifteen times in an attempt to catch every last mistake (which you simply cannot do, no matter how hard you try) is done. It is now in the extremely capable hands of Kody Boye, who is a formatter extraordinare. Philip Rogers is currently working on the cover and has passed along a rough draft of the back cover of the book, which looks great. While I have not seen the art for the cover, the theme will be similar to what was on the first cover. The back also retains that same flavor and to say that I am excited to see what Philip comes up with is the understatement of the year.
I will be working on another “Dark Story”, which is actually a continuation of the previous one, and will be about George and Jason again, very soon. I am hoping to have something posted within the next week or so. I am presently going to focus on a short story that has been nagging me for a while and try to get it done in the next few days, then I will be editing the next DS for the blog.
And for you folks who have not seen the back cover synopsis for Into the Dark, here it is again, for your viewing pleasure:
Six weeks ago, the mysterious virus came out of nowhere and engulfed the world. Everyone infected seemed to die … then rise again.
Jeff Blaine did his best to hold his family together and to protect them from the horrors scratching at their door, but in the end, they were ripped away from him like everything else that ever mattered.
Lost and alone, Jeff decided his only option was to destroy as many of the monsters that stole his life away before they destroy him as well. But when he discovers Megan, George, and Jason, three other survivors not interested in giving up just yet, he reluctantly accepts that there might still be a reason to fight and live to see another day.
Traveling through the blasted landscape their world has become, the quartet discovers that the living dead aren’t the only danger with which they must cope. Even other survivors who promise safety and security from the hordes of ghouls roaming the wastelands will test loyalties and their faith in humankind.
Jeff and his small band of newfound friends must forge a semblance of life in the newly blighted world. And they will have only the light of their own humanity by which to navigate as everything around them descends into the dark.
More updates as they come up. As I have already mentioned, Into The Dark will be released between Thanksgiving and Christmas, so it is coming soon!
October 25, 2010 | Categories: Comes The Dark, My Writing Experiences | Tags: Book signing, comes the dark, cover art, dark stories, editing, horror, Into The Dark, Library of the Living Dead, short stories, writing, zombies | Leave a comment
I just wanted to pass on my first update on the sequel to Comes The Dark. The original plan was to release it in January, but with sales for Comes The Dark going as well as the have been, the publisher wants to strike while the iron is hot and push up the release of the next book to somewhere between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I was flattered by this, as it is a major vote of confidence in my trilogy. Given that the final edits are complete on the manuscript and I am about to send the book off to be formatted, once we have a cover, the book will be ready to go. So for now, it looks like we might have an early December release, just in time for Christmas! I feel all retail-y and stuff with having the book ready by then!
It is also about time that I revealed the name to the sequel to the second book in the trilogy, since I haven’t officially mentioned it before. Heck, I can reveal the title of the third book as well, while I am at it. Again, the entire trilogy is already written, so while I currently don’t have a firm date for the third book’s release (because we bumped up the second book’s release date), but my guess is that it will be in late spring of 2011, best estimate.
So here they are. The second book will be entitled: Into The Dark and the third book will be called Beyond The Dark. The artwork for all three covers is being done by the incredible Philip R. Rogers and the second and third cover will retain the same feel as the first one, though I am not exactly sure what either will look like. I think I will know pretty soon about the second cover-at least a rough sketch, and I am excited about checking that out. Philip’s work is awesome and if you ever need an artist, check out his work at philipr.deviantart.com/gallery/.
Okay, so here is the back cover description for Into The Dark:
Six weeks ago, the mysterious virus came out of nowhere and engulfed the world. Everyone infected seemed to die … then rise again.
Jeff Blaine did his best to hold his family together and to protect them from the horrors scratching at their door, but in the end, they were ripped away from him like everything else that ever mattered.
Lost and alone, Jeff decided his only option was to destroy as many of the monsters that stole his life away before they destroy him as well. But when he discovers Megan, George, and Jason, three other survivors not interested in giving up just yet, he reluctantly accepts that there might still be a reason to fight and live to see another day.
Traveling through the blasted landscape their world has become, the quartet discovers that the living dead aren’t the only danger with which they must cope. Even other survivors who promise safety and security from the hordes of ghouls roaming the wastelands will test loyalties and their faith in humankind.
Jeff and his small band of newfound friends must forge a semblance of life in the newly blighted world. And they will have only the light of their own humanity by which to navigate as everything around them descends into the dark.
Again, the book should be released sometime between Thanksgiving and Christmas. I am already getting excited about it!
October 19, 2010 | Categories: Comes The Dark | Tags: comes the dark, cover art, horror, Into The Dark, Library of the Living Dead, writing, zombies | Leave a comment
From left to right: Rich Dalzatto, Dr. Pus, my son Zack, me, my daughter Ali, and Ben Rogers…and Zeb, the zombie that lives in the shed out behind Ben’s house
Me and the kids at my table
Dr. Pus, Zack, me, Ali, and Ben
Patrick D'Orazio's Blog 