by Brian Keene
“Watching The World End”
I figured that by the sixth day of dead folks getting back up and eating the living, some people would start to lose their sanity. Unfortunately for William, he was my first victim. This was written in a posh hotel room at the Ritz-Carlton in Philadelphia, during a rainy afternoon. I like the story much better than I liked the hotel. If you were paying attention, you’ll notice several references to events from The Rising and one from “Last Chance For La Chance.”
“The Fall Of Rome”
The first draft of this story was written during the World Horror Convention 2005 in New York City. At the time, I was hiding out in my hotel room because every time I went downstairs for a beer, people mobbed me. The second and final drafts were written in my backyard, under the stars one night, while listening to Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here” (thus the usage in the story). Several months after writing this story, I met Eddie at Hypericon, a convention in Nashville. He said that I got the sniper part right. I said that was good. And then we partied till dawn, and bore witness to an orgy whose participants were dressed like Klingons and Jedi Knights. So there’s that.
“Walkabout Parts 1 and 2”
These are the second pair of two-part stories (the others being “As Above” and “So Below”). The first part was written in my office at home, and the second was started there and completed just before I went to the World Horror Convention in New York City (I finished it while riding in a car with authors John Skipp, Steven Shrewsbury, and James Sneddon). I bring this up because it was at WHC that I met Leigh and Penny—and was very pleased to learn that I’d pretty much gotten them right. If you look closely, you’ll find a reference to events from The Rising: Necrophobia (specifically, Brett McBean’s wonderful story, “The Beautiful Place,” which also took place in Australia).
“Hellhounds On My Trail”
When The Rising came out, my friend and fellow author Tim Lebbon gave me hell for not showing what was happening in England. Luckily, since Jason wanted his story to take place there, I finally had an opportunity to fix that. Even better—Jason is a big fan of the Blues, as am I. I love the Robert Johnson mythos, and his line about the hellhounds on his trail never, ever fails to give me chills. I was glad to work it into the story. I wrote this late one night in a hotel room in New York City during the World Horror Convention, while fellow authors John Skipp, Bev Vincent, and Steven L. Shrewsbury snored in the background.
“Spoilers”
This was written over a weekend in my backyard. Plenty of sunshine, ice tea, and bug spray. I actually had the basic idea long before I started work on this collection. The Siqqusim’s knowledge of our race is obtained only through the memories and experiences of their hosts. But they are curious to know more, even as they exterminate us. When Mike told me he was a big movie fan and bibliophile, I knew what I wanted to do. Alert readers will notice a tie-in to my novel The Rutting Season (and my now infamous alter-ego, Adam Senft). There is a reason for all these non-Rising tie-ins, but I’m not going to tell you what it is—yet.
“The Man Comes Around”
I wrote an early draft of this in hotel rooms across Tennessee and Kentucky, while on a book signing tour for City of the Dead and Terminal. The original story was called “Beer Run” and it sucked really badly. I mean really, really bad. So I scrapped it and wrote this version during a break in the tour, on the Fourth of July, while my wife was watching a Twilight Zone marathon. The title is from one of my favorite Johnny Cash songs. This is the first of three stories in this volume that deal with General Dunbar, a minor character from The Rising that I always wanted to do more with (the other two stories are “Where The Down Boys Go” and “Through The Glass Darkly”).
“The Summoning”
This nasty little piece of work was written between midnight and five in the morning, at home, in my office. One of the things I tried to show in both The Rising and City of the Dead was that some of the still-living humans were just as bad as the zombies. I took the same approach with this tale. The zombies are secondary when compared to the heinous acts of the skinny man.
“Pocket Apocalypse”
This is the first of three stories written specifically for this edition. It replaces a tale called “Till Death Do Us Part” (which only appears in the previous volume). “Pocket Apocalypse” features a deeper look at Troll, who was one of the most popular secondary characters in The Rising. I still get emails from readers who want to know more about him. Hopefully, this will shed a little more light on his background, and what he was up to before he met Frankie.
“The Viking Plays Patty Cake”
I’ve always wanted to write a novel set in Detroit. Unfortunately, I only had 1,000 words to play with this time around. This story was written over the space of a month—not because I was having trouble with it, but because I was on the last leg of a book signing tour and was behind deadline on The Rutting Season. Mark and Paula told me a lot about themselves, but when they told me the story about Mark playing patty cake with his daughter on a park bench, the father in me (also known as the softie) immediately knew what he wanted to write about. I’d like to think that Mark’s family showed up eventually, and that they were reunited, no matter how briefly. Alert readers will notice references to General Dunbar, “Don’s Last Mosh,” and Colonel Schow’s renegade National Guard unit from The Rising.
“If You Can See The Mountain…”
This was written in two days, in my office, during Halloween week. Mean, a.k.a. Mike Nolan, gave me a lot of information on New Zealand (including Mount Egmont) when I wrote to him and asked for his background in reference to the story. I’m glad he did because until then, the only thing I knew about New Zealand was that they grew kiwis, and Lord of the Rings was filmed there. Mean was an excellent travel guide, and I fully intend to visit, based on his descriptions alone. There was one bit of trivia he gave me that, very regretfully, I didn’t have room to use. It’s very cool, but I just didn’t have room for it. So I’m including it here, because I’m positive the rest of you will think it’s cool, too. Mean wrote: We had an old single shot .22 rifle mainly for rabbits and opossums. Our opossums are not like your possums there in the States. Our opossums may make good zombie stoppers, as they don’t actually attack people—but when they get frightened, they consider people are like trees and climb them and wrap themselves around your head. They have very long sharp claws, prehensile tails, are incredibly strong, and don’t smell too good. Removal is a difficult process, to say the least. See what I mean? Is that not the coolest fucking thing you’ve ever heard? I’d love to do an entire novel about zombie opossums, but you guys will have to convince Delirium to publish it. Write to Shane now!
“You Only Live Twice”
This was written in my home office, in one day’s time—all three drafts. Truthfully, a lot of these are Jade’s own words. I just turned them into a story. I wanted to do something quiet and introspective, giving you readers (and myself) a momentary break from the violence and gore. I’m very happy with the results. Hopefully, it worked for you, too. I do feel badly for the Jade in this tale. I’d like to think that in an alternate universe, she and Anthony got married, she bought that Mustang she’d always wanted, and her cat didn’t turn into a zombie. And you know what? Maybe she did. Alert readers will notice a tiein with “The Viking Plays Patty Cake.”
So who was outside? Did the National Guard really reoccupy Detroit, or was it just the zombies playing a trick? I know—but I’m not telling. This is one of those endings that you all like so much. (Ducks before the readers can hit him…)
“And Hell Followed With Him”
The problem with this story is that I didn’t want it to end. I could have easily (and happily) turned this into a novel. Bob is a close, personal friend of mine, and York, PA is my hometown (which is why you’ve seen it pop up in some of my other works). As a result, there was so much more that I wanted to write about, places and situations that I wa
nted to throw in. Unfortunately, there’s only so much you can do with 1,000 words.
The story was written in my backyard, in the midst of the summer heat wave, on the exact same spot where Bob and I have drank many beers. Bob spends a lot of time hanging out with Geoff Cooper and me, and is often seen as the quiet, responsible member of our trio; the “safe” one, as my wife calls him. If the dead started returning to life and bikers killed his family, I think Bob would put both Coop and I to shame, and that’s why I transformed him into this Crow-like spirit of vengeance. Also of note, the things happening in York (in this story) are also referenced in The Rising.
“The High Point”
I took a break from this book for a while. Didn’t want to, and it set us back as far as the deadline, but circumstances were beyond my control. I had a previous deadline to beat ( The Rutting Season) and I had to get that finished or forfeit a sizable amount of money. So I did. The day after I finished the novel, this was the first thing I wrote. It felt good. Real fucking good. All three drafts were done in one evening, in my office, while it rained outside.
“Where The Down Boys Go”
This must be the year for Paul Legerski inspired fiction. I wrote this story after finishing The Rutting Season a week before. Paul previously entered a contest in which he won a role in that novel. And now he had a role here, as well. This is the second of the General Dunbar story-arc (the other two tales being “The Man Comes Around” and “Through The Glass Darkly”). Paul is the only person I know that likes 80’s hair metal more than me. We disagree on the musical merits of Warrant, but that’s about all. The story title comes from one of the few Warrant songs I like. He was armed with a chainsaw in the original draft, but I took it out because I thought that was too easy, and too much like Evil Dead.
“1 Corinthians 15:51”
Most of this was written in my backyard, during an unseasonably warm spell in mid-October. Lynchburg, VA, home of Jerry Falwell, has darn near more churches than anywhere else in America. Keeping that in mind, I wanted this story to revolve around Christianity, and one of its core principles—the resurrection of the dead. Unlike most of the tales in this book, this story took five drafts. The original version was too similar to “The Summoning,” and I wasn’t happy with it. (Sadly, the first draft also had a neat segment with Dawn teaching Sunday School that just didn’t fit in this final version). Observant readers will recognize the character of Klinger. Like General Dunbar (who also appears in this book), Klinger had a minor role in The Rising, and I’d always wanted to do more with him. Since he met Jim and Martin in Virginia, and since this story also took place in Virginia, I figured this was the opportunity to do just that.
As for the title, I got it while flipping through my dog-eared Scofield Reference Bible; something I recommend all horror writers keep on their desk. I use mine almost every day.
“All Fall Down” and “A Man’s Home Is His Casket”
These two stories are obviously interconnected, which is why I’m writing about them here at the same time. Of all the tales in this book, these two provided my most perplexing challenge. See, Paul (also known as PG) wanted to become a zombie and kill his good friend H (also known as Kresby). But Paul’s story took place in Arizona and H’s took place in Minnesota. That’s a long fucking way for a zombie to travel, and it would take more than 1,000 words to tell it. Luckily, H was agreeable to having Paul kill him in his story. His only stipulation was that Paul couldn’t get his book collection. Of course, he didn’t say anything about burning the collection—along with the two of them. What can I say? I’m an evil bastard…
“Through The Glass Darkly”
This was the last story to be completed; not because I had trouble with it, but because I wasn’t sure which day I wanted to place it. I wrote it in my living room in one evening. Larry, in case you don’t know, runs Bloodletting Books and Bloodletting Press. He also manufactures glass for Gallo Wines. This is the third tale in the General Dunbar storyarc (the other two being “The Man Comes Around” and “Where The Down Boys Go”). You’ll catch references to events from those stories, if you pay attention.
“Zombie Worm”
This is the second of three stories written specifically for this edition. It replaces a tale called “Ballroom Blitz,” which only appears in the collector’s edition. The title, “Zombie Worm,” is an ongoing joke. When The Conqueror Worms was released, some booksellers assumed it was another zombie novel that featured—wait for it—zombie worms. I’m not making that up. In fact, I’ve written about it at length in The New Fear: The Best of Hail Saten Vol. III. But I digress. Zombie worms became an ongoing joke among the regulars on my message board. Those same readers also wanted more of Worm, another popular secondary character from The Rising. Never mind that he’d become a zombie by the end of the book. They wanted more Worm. So when I set out to write the three replacement stories for this edition, “Zombie Worm” immediately came to mind.
“The Night The Dead Died”
This is the third of three stories written specifically for this edition. It replaces a tale called “No Sleep In Brooklyn”. That story was crucial in the original volume, and I’ve tried to capture some of its essence for this replacement tale. This story signals the shift from the Siqqusim to the Elilum. It also answers the question so many readers had after finishing City of the Dead—were Frankie, Danny, Jim, and the others the last humans to be killed before the Elilum invaded. The answer is yes. Obviously, this story ties in directly to City of the Dead, what with the artillery explosions (as Ob’s forces shelled Ramsey Towers) and the phony ‘all-clear’ broadcast and the sewer explosions (a chain reaction started by Jim’s sacrifice).
“The Morning After”
After twenty-something stories of zombies, zombies, zombies, I was ready for something different. There’s only so much you can do with zombie humans, dogs, cats, birds, and opossums. Lucky for me, in the original timeline I created for this mythos (before starting work on City of the Dead), the Elilum start their invasion on the twenty-seventh day. And what better place to begin that storyline than in heavily forested New Hampshire? According to my calculations, this takes place about six hours after the events at the end of City of the Dead. I wrote this in bed, and finished the final draft the next morning, while sitting in my office and watching Chester, my Venus flytrap, eat a shred of tuna that I’d just fed him.
“March of the Elilum”
This was fun (as were all of the stories regarding the Elilum). It was written over a two-day period, in my bedroom, while I had a mild case of the flu. This story takes place two days after the end of City of the Dead. Surviving Ob and his ilk is tough enough, and to make it twenty-eight days is even harder. That’s why I was glad to hear that Michael was a geologist, had knowledge of caves, and had a cave just an hour away from his house. Realistically, he and Kyle could have rode out the storm. This made the fastmoving horror of the Elilum even more terrifying, in my opinion. As you can see, the Elilum spread much faster than the Siqqusim do.
Unlike Jim and Danny from The Rising, Michael and Kyle got to spend the zombie plague together. So there’s that. In the world of The Rising, that’s about as happy an ending as anyone gets.
“Best Seat In The House”
Like “Till Death Do Us Part,” this story is one of my personal favorites. Chris wanted me to write a love letter for him; an ode to the love he felt for Francesca. I was touched (despite what you may have heard, I’m really just a big softie when it comes to romance.) What made this extra cool is that Chris and Francesca met each other because of Delirium Books (she was selling a Delirium title on eBay and he was the winning bidder). That, my friends, is better than any fiction I could ever make up. I wrote this on a Saturday night, from 9 pm until around 1 am. When I was done, I leaned back on the pillow and smiled a big smile and smoked a bigger cigar. You ask me, I done good. Hopefully, Chris and Francesca agree.
“American Pie”
I’ve
been all around the world, but the closest I ever got to Norway was sailing through the fjords onboard the U.S.S. Austin. All I saw were lots of farms and lighthouses. Luckily for me, Trygve was a wonderful tour guide. After I’d received his notes on Drammen, and finished some online research of my own, I wrote this story in my living room in about two hours time (for all three drafts). In June of 2005, I spent the night in the home of fellow author Drew Williams. He proposed the idea that my zombies wouldn’t be able to function in subzero temperatures, and I’ve got to admit, the idea really, really intrigued me. Were I to ever do another novel set in the world of The Rising, it would probably feature a situation like that—maybe the crew of an icebreaker or scientists at a polar research center.
“Two Suns In The Sunset”
This story, of course, chronicles the arrival of the fiery Teraphim—those who make up the third and final wave (spoken of in City of the Dead). The title comes from one of my favorite Pink Floyd songs (off The Final Cut). I wrote this, all three drafts, in one night, from midnight until six in the morning. Big R is a hard person to get a hold of, and despite numerous emails and phone calls; I never did touch base with him and find out what makes him tick. Therefore, writing this story presented a challenge. How was I supposed to write about a character whom I knew nothing about? All I had was his name, and the town he wanted the story to take place in. So I decided to make it about the town. Luckily, Oconto has a website, and all of the locations featured in the story were swiped from that. From what I saw on the site, Oconto looks very much like Auto, West Virginia, a place near and dear to my heart, and the basis for Punkin Center (from The Conqueror Worms, “Full of It,” and others). Personally, I think Big R made out pretty well with amnesia. If you’d survived successive plagues of zombie humans, animals, bugs, and plants, only to get burned into a crisp along with the rest of the planet, would you want to remember it all?