Escalators to Hell: Shopping Mall Horrors

This anthology's theme is horror stories that have some connection to shopping malls, those dying bastions of consumerism. Not that consumerism is dead, mind you. It's that we're transitioning from roaming their vast corridors of myriad wares to surfing the digital versions on our phones and laptops. To wit, the editors thought that the demise of shopping malls would make for an excellent theme for a horror anthology. And I thought so too.

The stories cover a wide gamut of horror sub-genres, so it isn't all about gore. There's a "Content Warnings" section—something I've never seen in a horror anthology—which I thought was odd. I mean, it's horror. If your mental health is such that certain things will trigger a traumatic emotional reaction, maybe you shouldn't be reading horror. I know that there are certain aspects that I won't read because of my issues. So I guess a content warning is considerate of the authors, can one find it before purchasing it?

Author representation is quite diverse. While North American authors are present, there are stories from African and Asian authors. Also, there are many non-binary authors in this collection.

Ok, onto the stories. Of the 22 stories in this collection, I liked 15 of them. Of those that I didn't enjoy, a good deal of them were too focused on gender identity, with the mall serving as mere setting. A couple of the others were too esoteric or allegorical to connect with.

On with the good stuff! The opening story, "Hard to Be a Mall God," was excellent. It deals with a demonically possessed escalator. "The Intercessor" shows how retail associates deal with trollish customers. "Why I Won't Eat at the Food Court" is part of the Generation Dead series. It drags in some cosmic horror for teen mutant superheroes to deal with but doesn't forget to add a dash of humor. "A Plague Upon Both Our Houses" is Romeo and Juliet with Zombies in a mall. "A Quick Trip to Ryan's" delves into masochism on a whole another level. "Kim, Ray, Trey, and Morgan" delves into drugs as a mind expanding experience with a dash of cosmic horror.

Some stories confront serious matters. "You Must Drop Buy" tackles the subject of rampant materialism and false promises made by deceptive marketing. In "Poseurs," a teen girl deals with her father's suicide by re-enacting a drama with mannequins.

In case anyone feels I'm being unfair to non-binary character stories, there were good stories that had non-binary characters and authors. These stories didn't lose sight of the objective. For example, "The Basement of Crowley's Artefacts and Interests of the Occult" has some non-binary teens dealing with demonic invocation in the supply room of an odd store in the mall. "Cherry Cola Lips" features a woman reflecting on her first crush back in high school, a girl who wouldn't come out and later disappeared. Rumors are that she was murdered, but the truth is stranger.

My favorite story was the closer, "The Temple of All." Makoma is forced by ritual to take her dead husband's remains into the ancient ossuary. It's a post-apocalyptic story with a touch of Handmaid's Tale where the ultimate act of rebellion is to live.

Yes, I'm glad I read this anthology. While I wish some of the stories were better, the good stories made it worth the price and my time.

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Full Disclosure: I backed this book on Kickstarter and received a digital copy as a reward.

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The Blissful Plague by Brady Koch

Twelve-year-old Maggie, her mother, and their loyal dog, Penny, traverse desolate cities, guided by a well-worn travel book. A chance encounter with a solitary boy, entangles them in the perils of Plantation Oaks, a seemingly safe haven.

As secrets unravel, revealing the reasons behind their endless voyage, Maggie and her mother grapple with their complex past. This poignant tale speaks to survival, resilience, and the unbreakable bond between a mother and daughter, emphasizing the strength it takes to navigate a shattered world.

This is the fourth and final book in Koch's All Our Forgotten Futures series.

Efforts to contain the plague have failed. No cure has been found, and now there's no one left that can do anything about it. In this quiet world, Maggie and her mother are on a roadtrip, visiting all of the landmarks and museums of a world Maggie has never known and her mother can't forget. It isn't much of a childhood for Maggie, but she knows that her mother is trying her best even when she doesn't understand why she does things the way she does.

When they meet Henry, a boy unharmed by the plague, living with his feral family members and neighbors in the woods, everything changes. For her entire life, Maggie has only really known her mother. She had no friends growing up, so Henry is someone special to her right off the bat. Maggie wants him to come with them, but her mother tells her that he belongs with his family, no matter what condition they're in.

The people at Plantation Oaks are familiar to anyone who's read or viewed post-apocalyptic fiction. They're survivors, and their methods are cruel because that's how you survive. As someone who still has a heart, Maggie does what she can to protect Henry and his family from them. And Momma does what she can to protect her daughter.

Koch does a great job portraying his characters. Maggie is what I'd expect from a twelve-year-old girl (having had a daughter of my own), seeking her own space in the world, rebelling just a bit from her mother's rules. And Momma is caught up being a single mom in the apocalypse, carrying a ton of guilt for not being able to give her daughter a normal childhood but putting on a brave face to make sure she has the skills to survive and carry forward.

The Blissful Plague is a heartfelt story, focused on the relationship of a mother and her daughter in difficult times, facing long odds, trying to do the right thing in a world that has forgotten compassion.

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Full Disclosure: I was hired by the author to proofread/edit this book. While you might think I'm biased, I suggest heading over to Goodreads for other opinions.

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King Ruin by Michael John Grist

Standing in the ashes of his final battle with Mr. Ruins, at the edge of the floating slums, ex-Arctic marine Ritry Goligh thinks his long nightmare is finally over. His family are safe, his soul is his own, and at last he can go home. Then comes an explosion that makes no sound, but blows all his thoughts to shreds. In an instant Ritry is prey again, hunted by a power so vast he can’t even comprehend it. This is King Ruin, and before him all Rit can do is run, so far and so fast he starts to forget who and what he is. Soon half his mind is gone, the King is closing in, and the souls of billions are at stake. Because King Ruin wants the Bridge, a direct path into the minds of every living thing, and only the lost and broken Ritry Goligh stands in his way. King Ruin picks up right where Mr. Ruins left off. Ritry doesn't get to savor his victory or even go home to see his family. He's right back in thick of it with a foe that is far stronger than Mr. Ruins.

Previous cover

Before I get into the review, I'd like to comment on the covers. Mr. Grist decided last year to redo his covers as sales for the Ruins War series had dropped off. It got him to thinking that maybe the covers weren't conveying enough of the mystery of the books. I disagree, but that's just one man's opinion. Anyway, this isn't the first time he's revamped his covers. The series of covers I saw all featured scenes from their respective books—the skyscraper picture above is rather chilling in retrospect. The new covers are more focused on characters. Mr. Ruins himself is featured on the new version of his titular cover (new cover added to bottom of review). However, I don't recognize the person on this new King Ruins cover. The two red suns are pertinent though. I could make a guess on the character, but the appearance doesn't match up with the description in the book.* On with the review

Current cover

As I mentioned above, the book picks up right where the previous one left off. Ritry fights for his life only to find himself captured by Don Zachary, an organized crime boss of the skulks from the first book. Ten percent of the book has gone by before Grist lets Ritry and the reader take a breath. But it isn't long before Ritry is on the run again.

The marines return and are just as important to saving Ritry's life as they were in the first book. I won't spoil their connection to him if you haven't read the first book. But for those who have, their mission here is just as surreal and mysterious as before. Me and Far are missing, which is puzzling to the rest of the chord. But by doing so, Grist permits the reader to get to know the other members of the chord—Me and Far were the focus of the first book. Grist keeps their absence a secret until the story nears its climax, when all is revealed.

Mr. Ruins, Ritry's foe in the first book, was a bit of a mystery. While he offered an explanation for his obsession with Ritry, I felt like there was something more. He seemed to be hiding something, but with the conclusion of that book, I didn't hold out much hope of finding out. Fortunately for the sake of the story, Mr. Ruins makes a return, and we get to the truth behind Mr. Ruins' sadistic treatment of Ritry and others.

Whereas Mr. Ruins was a sadist, King Ruin is a ghoul. If we take it that power corrupts, then as power grows so too does the level of corruption. King Ruin does things to people that would make Josef Mengele proud, if not envious. Grist forces the reader to bear witness to some of these horrors and to the suffering that King Ruin's crippled victims struggle to recover from. It serves a purpose; this isn't torture porn. King Ruin is a being that feeds upon pain. He would starve to death without it. If you're one who is easily upset by disturbing imagery, then heed the "horror" tag I applied to this review.

Just as Grist revealed the origins of Mr. Ruins, so too does he reveal the ghastly origin of King Ruin. It makes sense. It might seem like this is just Ritry's battle against a bigger and badder foe, but King Ruin's reach knows no bounds. He strips everything from Ritry. Everything. Ritry must sacrifice his connections to everyone he loves, lest King Ruin find them and make them suffer too.

Unfortunately, my experience was marred by typos and punctuation problems. If he had hired a proofreader, I believe that the manuscript would've been much cleaner. Maybe the story has been edited since I received my copy. Anyway, if typos aren't the sort of thing that catches your eye, then don't sweat it. Just enjoy the story.

King Ruin is a journey through desolate post-apocalyptic wastelands, both physical and mental, full of madness and pain. At times surreal, it is also visceral. The overarching message I get from this story is that our pain defines us. The memories of that pain form strong bonds that entwine our souls. It twists us. If it doesn't break us, it shapes us into something different, possibly evil. In turn, we inflict that pain upon others, whether we wish to or not. Only love and forgiveness can break the cycle. And if we can find redemption for the pain we've caused, we can rest in peace.

For more information about King Ruin or Grist's other works, please visit his website.

* I spoke with Mr. Grist about her. She is whom I thought she was, just a different interpretation than the one I had.

Mr. Ruins by Michael John Grist

Ritry Goligh is a former Arctic marine living in a dystopian, tsunami-wrecked future. He works as a graysmith—a specialist capable of diving the minds of others and implanting or erasing memories. Scarred by the events of the Arctic war, he leads a directionless life of alcohol, violence, and sex, until a man calling himself Mr. Ruins offers him a devil’s bargain—gain a future, but forfeit his soul.

At the same time, a crew of hardened marines rouse in a unique submarine designed to dive through lava, within a planet’s molten core. They have no memories except their names, ranks, and a burning urge to complete their mission. Yet none of them know what their mission is, or what the cost will be if they fail.

Before becoming aware of Mr. Grist's work as an author, I'd known that he'd spent some time in Japan, exploring the ruins of man-made structures long since abandoned and reclaimed by the natural world. I can't explain it, but it's something that's always captured my attention. It doesn't matter if it's the majestic columns of the Parthenon or the rusty subterranean confines of abandoned American missile silos; I have to see it. So when I saw that Mr. Grist had written a book (he's written several actually), I thought, "I'll have to check this out." After seeing the striking cover and reading the sample chapters, I knew that I had to explore further.

After getting hooked by the opening, the pace of the book slowed down. I'd say that it didn't pick back up until about midway through. Much of the first half is Ritry wandering around destroying his own brain cells and then trying to recover the alcohol-damaged memories. And in the marines' narrative, they spend an equivalent amount of time wandering around trying to figure out who they are and just staying alive. Eventually, Grist gets both narratives to a point of self-realization where there's clear focus, and then when the connection between the two is made, the story really moves along.

It takes a while before one can develop much sympathy for Ritry Goligh (his unusual name is explained in the book). But as Grist reveals more about his past, it becomes painfully obvious why the guy is hellbent on self-destruction. His experiences alone in the Arctic War would qualify him as someone with PTSD and survivor's guilt, but there's even more: his childhood. We learn about this through the adventures of the marines. Without giving anything away, we find that Ritry's unique childhood started him down this path.

You might wonder why, in a world where the technology exists to implant or erase memories, Ritry didn't seek out a fellow graysmith to assist him with his emotional wounds. There is that saying: doctors make the worst patients. Rather than seek help or a normal life, Ritry has chosen to suffer instead. He feels that he deserves this life, scraping a living out in the skulks—the floating shanty towns outside the city's protective tsunami wall. But for all the pain that his childhood brought him, it ultimately proves to be his source of strength.

Ritry's foe is Mr. Ruins, a wicked bundle of evil so cruel that he seems the very definition of sadist. Before he turns on Ritry, he offers to be his teacher, to help him claw his way out his pit and become something far greater. He's obsessed with Ritry for reasons we don't discern until later. And while much is revealed in the latter half of the book, there is so much more about him that we don't know. Hopefully, as the series progresses, those answers will be revealed.

As for the marines, their story is a surreal one. They're forced to adapt to their bizarre surroundings or perish. While I can't say more about that without spoiling it, I will say that the dynamic between the team members goes beyond mere professionalism. Their dedication to each other is rivaled only by their dedication to the mission.

While the story takes place in a not too distant future (a century?), the names for some prominent places have changed. And for the places that seemed real that I was unfamiliar with, I couldn't find any trace of them online. I wasn't sure if these changes were made to reflect the tsunami ravaged world, or we were on some mirror Earth. There was a common history (Napoleon) and obvious similarities with our own (climate change), but the differences were disorienting. Maybe that was Grist's intent. I chalked it up to creative license.

Unfortunately, my experience was marred by typos and punctuation problems. There were many words that were hyphened that shouldn't have been. And comma usage was just plain wrong in many places. Grist got it right most of the time, so it's not like he's going by a different set of rules. If he had hired a proofreader, I believe that the manuscript would've been much cleaner. If commas and hyphens don't catch your eye, then don't sweat it. Just enjoy the story.

In Mr. Ruins, Grist has drawn upon his real life adventures among our modern ruins and the 2011 Japanese tsunami to set the stage for an ice cap free future. His protagonist is a ruined man living without purpose in a ruined world. Just as the people in this world have rebuilt their cities (behind walls) after tsunamis knocked them down, Grist tears him down and builds him back up again. He takes us on a surrealistic journey into the depths of memory to reveal what shaped his protagonist and shows us the power that lies within to change.

For more information about Mr. Ruins or Grist's other works, please visit his website.

UPDATE 2016: Grist has changed the covers for his Ruins War saga. Here's the new cover for Mr. Ruins:

The Silver Cross by Gayla Scot-Hays

A young woman named "Cross" is sent out into the post-apocalyptic wasteland by her father to find "the soldier", a man believed to hold the key to saving their plague-ridden village. Before the desert can claim her, a warrior-priest named "Zero" discovers Cross and learns of her mission. When he spies a silver cross, the symbol of his brotherhood, glinting in her hair, he pledges his sword to defend her.

Although billed as a post-apocalyptic fantasy, this is, in fact, a post-apocalyptic romance novel. And were it not for a couple of references to said apocalypse and cultural references, one could not be blamed for thinking the story took place during the Middle Ages, perhaps even post-Crusades. Lying somewhere east of the Pyramids and south of Jerusalem, the wasteland is home to brigands and marauders, merchants and slavers, heathens and sinners. The men are misogynistic at best. Women are property—slaves to the whims of the men that own them. It matters not if the man is Muslim or Christian; women are inferior and must be treated as such. Love is a delusion.

So where's the romantic element? Cross and Zero. Cross spends most of her time pining for Zero, hating him for putting his faith before her, dwelling in her negative self-esteem, and believing that she's just a "stupid girl", as so many people call her. Meanwhile Zero struggles with his inner demons, trying to repent for the sins he commits and has committed. He could lose himself in her but fears it will cost him his soul.

A good deal of the novel is spent between these two characters exploring their feelings for the other. There's some action, too. Oh, and I don't just mean the sexual kind; there's some melee combat as Zero battles brigands and his former brother-in-arms.

While romance novels aren't my cup of tea (or, more accurately, my pint of beer), I do appreciate colorful prose. Whether it's from an action scene,

The sword's voice sounded shy, not much more than a whisper. A fountain of blood gushed high in the sky, and seconds later, pattering like rain, the drops fell back down to the ground, leaving little red dents all over the freshly scuffed sand.

a moment of personal struggle,

Empty now, and cold, she trembled as the wind leered at her nakedness, raking her body with its icy, invisible touch. So she drew up her knees and folded her arms over her head, weeping as the lost rhythms of childhood tried to rock her to peace.

or a point of tension.

There was no sound but the rushing of the waterfall. Even the droplets of grease hanging from the hare simply shuddered in the firelight, like tears too frightened to fall.

For me, it was passages like these that got me through the ugliness of this world that Scot-Hays has sifted from the ashes. It made for a welcome contrast to the brutality that all the women in the novel had to endure.

In The Silver Cross, Gayla Scot-Hays posits a grim world for women after the apocalypse. But aided by the use of colorful prose and characters desperately seeking redemption, she manages to grow a romance novel in the misogynistic wasteland.

The Silver Cross is available from Smashwords.

Autumn by David Moody (A)

Autumn is the story of post-apocalypse England, and it opens with these blockbuster lines:

Billions died in less than twenty-four hours.
William Price was one of the first.

A brief, terrifying prologue follows, and like lightning it augurs a story of a world after a calamity. The first chapter plunges us into the world of Carl Henshawe as his ordinary routine is slowly being disrupted by the epic disaster at work in the world at large. I was instantly gripped by the way that the disaster seeps into Carl's world. We are eased slowly, one small incident after another, into something incredible.

The writer takes his time drawing us in, and this creates a great deal of suspense as to what is happening, and why Carl seems to be unaffected by the apparent plague that strikes down everyone around him. Slowly, the creepiness and horror of the events sink in as Carl proceeds down the motorway, discovering cars crashed or stopped abruptly, their occupants suddenly dead.

There is something of Hitchcock here in the way that an existential terror is evoked by the action of a lone character going down the highway, discovering dead drivers in their cars. By the time he reaches Norwitch, his hometown, he has seen about fifty bodies. By now, dreadful tension fills the story as we watch Carl proceed toward his home, he only just becoming aware, because of the shock he had already suffered while discovering the bodies on the motorway, that his family is probably dead. When he reaches home, he finds his wife, baby, and mother dead. We're glad for Carl because he didn't have to watch them suffer as Price did in the prologue. But the effect on Carl is shattering:

I spent hours stepping through the bodies just shouting out for help.

This ending to the first chapter is simply awesome - in one sentence the author has reveled the humanity of the tragedy and bound our sympathy to Carl's plight. But what Carl went through is only a tease of things to come, a foretaste of the horror that Michael Collins witnesses as he speaks before a class.

What is happening to the world? The question arises as one reads about the events. Any number of answers are possible, creating a degree of tension and suspense. But the ultimate explanation is hidden, only to be revealed latter one cold morning.

Autumn is the story of Carl, Michael, Stuart, Emma, four among a number of survivors of the plague that turns the dead into zombies. I like the way that the author shocks the reader—first presenting the survivors in the community center, trying to cope with the loss of their loved ones, trying to decided what to do next in the unimaginable situation—then ups the ante as Michael ventures outside one morning and discovers that one of the dead is apparently alive.

The living dead are made believable because the author develops horror from the ordinary slowly turning into the terrifying. This is the true method of horror and it works well in Autumn. A less skilled writer would have had us witness some violence and gore, but that would only make the story unreal and indistinguishable from the cliché. In Autumn, the reality of the vision is reinforced because the author stays, wisely, away from the violence motif that permeates zombie stories, and focuses on what might, arguably, happen in such a situation. Instead of immediate violence and flesh eating, there is a more nuanced approach here as the survivors try to learn more about what is happening rather than immediately reaching for the gun to defend themselves. By once more focusing on the ordinary reaction-the curiosity of the survivors-the story maintains realism and horrific tension. Here the survivors approach one of the living dead and try to get her inside to study her in the hopes of figuring out what's happening:

Emma jogged the last few steps and moved round to stand in front of the body. She looked up into her glazed eyes and saw that they seemed unfocussed and vacant. Her skin was pale and taut, as if it had been stretched tight across her skull. Although she was sure that the body couldn't see her (she didn't even seem to know she was there) Emma respectfully tried to hide her mounting revulsion. There was a deep gash on the woman's right temple. Dark blood had been flowing freely from the wound for some time and had drenched her once smart white blouse and grey business suit.

"We want to help you," she said softly.

Still no reaction.

I think that this is much more terrifying and the horror is so much greater than what would have been had with simple violence. A tense situation results as the corpse interacts with the survivors. The scene is developed with humanity and objectivity that enhances the scary nature of the situation, creating a creepy sense of calm.

After a while, Emma, Michael, and Carl set out on their own, find a house tucked out of the way and the tension drops as the biggest threat seems to be boredom. But it becomes clear in the days that follow that the undead are becoming increasingly more alert and aggressive, roused somehow by the noise that the survivors create. But the challenge that the undead pose to the living comes across as a kind of nuisance rather than a genuine danger, and this make the tension and suspense evaporate. A sense of foreboding is created, however, by the knowledge the characters have that there seems to be no place where the undead cannot find. I am a bit disappointed by the way the undead behave, and the consequent loss of tension and suspense in the story. Tension and suspense should mount, and here it seems to evaporate. Another thing that is disappointing is the lack of a clear resolution—the question whether there is a place where the characters can lead a semblance of a normal life remains unanswered at the end of the volume.

The author has a website where you can find this and his other work. Autumn is being made into a movie.

Chion by Darryl Sloan (A+)

Chion is a magical story that's a must have. Perfect as a gift for a YA reader. The book is available at http://www.darrylsloan.com/

First Impression: The cover is dramatic and arouses curiosity but it does not really evoke the content of the book in some thematic way.

Chion starts with a brief, one page, exchange that gives us a hit of some unimaginable disaster having struck the world. In cinematic fashion, we enter the action of chapter one as Jamie Metcalfe and other kids of Clounagh Junior High School hear screams coming from outside, where a few of their mates have been struck to the ground by what appears to be ordinary snow. When Alex Vennard touches a flake, however, he learns that whatever this stuff is, it is definitely not snow. In fact, it is something that grips his hand and won't let go. In desperate attempt, inspired by mounting panic, his teacher pours hot water on it, hoping to melt it, but the stuff will not. In a fit of panic, Alex frees himself by tearing off a bit of his skin. How can you NOT keep on reading?

Like all great stories, Chion opens in the middle of things, dispensing with the long, boring expository passages. We are plunged into action and carried along by the torrent of narrative. What is this deadly stuff? Who is responsible for it? How will the children and their teachers cope with being trapped inside the school? Such questions dangle over the action. Unlike some thrillers, here there is genuine interest created as to the resolution of the questions posed. I found myself really wanting to know the answers to the questions that have been posed by the story. I think the reason for this lays in the high concept: adhesive snow-this is the stuff of Hollywood blockbusters:

"The snow that fell this morning is ... well, it's not normal snow; it's adhesive. Foolish as that sounds, anything that comes in contact with the snow sticks to it. The effect is quick and strong. If you've ever had your fingers stuck together with Super Glue, let me tell you, this is much worse. If any part of your body makes contact with the snow, the only way to pull you off is to ... to leave a layer of your skin behind."

Many writers do not consider this crucial element—the high concept—before they begin to write their stories. But a concept is the heart of any good story, and without a storing, innovative concept a story, no matter how well written, will be ultimately unsatisfying. The question that a writer should always ask himself is-why should the reader read this book? And what's different, unique, and creative about it? I don't recall ever reading a story about this kind of a situation, and so my interest and curiosity is aroused.

Another thing that contributes to the quality of this novel is the quality of the editing. Unlike many print on demand offerings, the writer of this novel had taken the time to polish his stuff and this shows that he is serious about the reader's experience of his work.

But there is more to this novel than just a high concept. Inside the school, trapped by the weird snow, a genuine, beautifully evoked, human drama unfolds between Jamie and his love, Tara, and the other characters, forcing him to think of a daring plan for saving himself and Tara. But just when they think that they have found a way out they realize that they are in danger.

Thought the story appears to be just another science fiction fest, it pleasantly turns out to be a different kind of thriller. I really appreciate how the author masterfully pulls us along into a theme that we might not expect-the adhesive snow may be God's plague. Unlike much of Christian fiction, there is no heavy proselytizing here, no dogma being pushed on the reader. Instead the focus is on the timeless themes of love, sacrifice, and faith that any human being appreciates and believes in.

I think this is a book that exemplifies the very best of POD-something that would be overlooked by the mainstream but is, nevertheless, important and necessary to read.