By Rick Hautala
4 OCTOBERS - a suite of Novellas
The days are becoming shorter, and the wind blows chilly from the north. After the maple and oak leaves flip from eco-friendly to shiny reds, golds, and oranges, they wither, fall, and die, clattering like outdated bones as they blow down the road within the twilight. The sunlight isn't as vivid because it was once, and the nights are darkish and chilly and lengthy. this can be the time of the harvest … the time of Hallowe'en … and a time for memories of the summer season simply prior and of different summers, now gone. it is a time of puzzle and expectation because the earth prepares for the frigid onslaught of winter.
Four Octobers collects for the 1st time 4 loosely interconnected novellas from the shiny mind's eye of best-selling writer Rick Hautala. every one tale is determined in October, the month of pumpkins and trick or deal with, of skeletons and haunted graveyards, and every tale is full of nostalgia for occasions previous … for summers and adolescence now long gone … for percentages no longer taken … for possibilities now misplaced forever.
"Tin Can Telephone," set in 1957, tells the tale of a tender boy and his good friend who, within the pre-dawn darkness whereas ready to work out the Russian satellite tv for pc Sputnik pace by means of overhead, event a secret and worry way more terrifying than the specter of Soviets in space.
"Miss Henry's Bottles," probably Hautala's top tale up to now, tells how the easy act of discarding empty soda bottles on a neighbor's garden brings to gentle secrets and techniques that are meant to have remained buried … yet like any secrets and techniques, this one finally is published with devastating consequences.
"Blood Ledge," set in an Indian summer time of 1971, tells the story of a tender boy who discovers a gloomy kin mystery that leads him to just accept a kin inheritance that has frightening results.
And ultimately, "Cold River" is the tale of a guy so misplaced in loneliness and melancholy following the demise of his spouse that he faces a horror worse … a lot worse than drowning within the chilly, darkish river that flows by way of his house.
Taken jointly, those tales exhibit Rick Hautala writing on the most sensible of his online game, telling tales that won't simply kick back you should you learn them, yet will depart you with an icy dread on your center … a dread a lot less warm than any October wind blowing down the road at evening.
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Extra info for Four Octobers
Come on…Come on…Come on! ” he muttered as he slid the foremost into the slot, savagely grew to become it, after which spun the doorknob. He set free a warbling cry as he fell ahead onto the porch after which, spinning round, kicked the door close in the back of him. It banged close not easy adequate to rattle the glass within the porch home windows. breathing in loudly, Ben collapsed onto the porch ground, on no account confident he used to be secure. He jumped while anything slammed opposed to the door, challenging adequate to vibrate it, yet he didn’t dare wake up to determine what it was once. nonetheless on his fingers and knees, he opened the interior door, whimpering as he crawled into the kitchen. His sneakers and the knees of his damp and muddy pants left lengthy, darkish streaks at the ground, yet he was once slightly conscious of them, thankful just to have escaped. nonetheless on his palms and knees, he scrambled during the eating room and into his bed room the place he slammed the door close at the back of him. protecting his mouth with either fingers, he cowered at the flooring and began rocking from side to side on his haunches, the entire whereas whispering, “This isn’t happening…this can’t be taking place. ” He misplaced all feel of time because the darkness within the bed room deepened, squeezing in on him with unrelenting strain. His imaginative and prescient dimmed and distorted, however the evening by no means deepened adequate to tug him lower than. **** “This is getting serious,” Ben acknowledged, now not even attempting to cover the desperation in his voice. “I don’t understand what to do. ” “You left the workplace prior to i'll make an appointment for you on the sleep center,” Dr. Porlock stated. “Would you're keen on me to name them for you currently? ” Cupping the telephone with one hand, Ben pressed it not easy opposed to his ear. If he didn’t, he used to be terrified of what else he may perhaps listen. there have been different sounds he was once conscious of, simply on the fringe of hearing…sounds he feared may not be actual. He was once seated on the kitchen desk, his elbows propped at the fringe of the desk. His eyes jerked backward and forward, searching for anything strong to anchor onto, yet his imaginative and prescient had a razor-sharp depth that used to be scary. every little thing he checked out appeared to be vibrating at a excessive frequency, blurring their edges. sun glinted off the chrome salt-and-pepper shakers, flashing like sparks from an arc weld. It left burning afterimages throughout his imaginative and prescient. His center was once racing. He was once frightened that, in particular now at his age, he may be having a center assault. “I don’t…I’m uncertain. ” the extent of panic in his voice scared him. “I don’t comprehend what to do. I—I’m exhausted. I’m tired. I…I’m freaking out. ” “Why don’t you come back on into the place of work, and we will discuss it? ” Dr. Porlock’s voice saved a low and soothing tone, yet Ben used to be so jam-packed with worry, he mistrusted it. whilst the general practitioner wasn’t conversing, Ben had the precise influence the telephone was once not anything yet lifeless air, and that he used to be imagining the entire dialog. “I…I don’t understand if i will depart the house. I don’t dare to. ” His voice during the receiver sounded vulnerable and pathetic, and he couldn’t cease pondering what Ed used to be considering. “Do you're thinking that you want to cost into the emergency room?