Truck Stop (8 page)

Jack:
Almost forty pages worth. A healthy dose of horror. I’ve already gotten some hate email, people saying it’s too graphic. But it’s not really graphic. It’s violent, sure, but I leave most of the details up to the reader. Do you have excerpts on your website?

JA:
Yes, at
www.jakonrath.com
. But I’m not doing an excerpt from my new book, CHERRY BOMB. That’s because at the end of my last Jack Daniels novel, FUZZY NAIL, there was a cliffhanger, so I don’t want it to spoil what the big secret is.

Jack:
Can’t people just search on the Internet and find the answer?

JA:
So what’s the next Jack Kilborn book?

Jack:
I just finished TRAPPED, my follow-up to AFRAID. It’s sort of a sequel, and explores many of the same themes. The people who have read it believe it’s scarier than AFRAID is.

JA:
I don’t see how that’s possible.

Jack:
I’ll send you a copy.

JA:
Thanks. I’d be happy to blurb it.

Jack:
I’m sort of holding out for blurbs from bestselling authors, if you don’t mind. No offense.

JA:
No offense taken. Maybe you’d like to blurb one of my books, if you have time.

Jack:
One of those chick books? Sure. But I can’t promise I’ll like it.

JA:
CHERRY BOMB has a four page sex scene, several torture-murders, and an extended woman-on-woman fist fight.

Jack:
I’ll give you my address so you can send me a copy. The cover makes it look harmless.

JA:
None of my books are harmless. If you want proof, there’s an excerpt following this interview.

Jack:
I thought you didn’t want any excerpts.

JA:
This one doesn’t contain any spoilers.

Jack:
What’s CHERRY BOMB about, by the way?

JA:
Jack Daniels chases the most brilliant and sinister serial killer she’s ever faced. One who killed someone dear to her, and plans to kill more.

Jack:
How come the serial killers always have to be brilliant? How about having a serial killer with average intelligence?

JA:
They’d get caught too quickly. Make for a pretty short book.

Jack:
True. So can anyone just pick up CHERRY BOMB and start reading, or do they have to start at the beginning of the series?

JA:
You can begin anywhere in the series. But for those who want to read them in order, it goes WHISKEY SOUR, BLOODY MARY, RUSTY NAIL, DIRTY MARTINI, FUZZY NAVEL, CHERRY BOMB.

Jack:
Maybe we should talk about this e-book thing. We’re both doing well with e-books on Kindle.

JA:
I noticed you had the #1 Kindle bestseller for over three weeks. The novella SERIAL, that you wrote with Blake Crouch.

Jack:
Yeah. I think I remember Crouch. Good writer. It’s got Donaldson from TRUCK STOP in it.

JA:
And Taylor from TRUCK STOP is a character from AFRAID.

Jack:
I know. I wrote it, remember?

JA:
I’ve noticed SERIAL has gotten a lot of one-star Amazon reviews.

Jack:
People think SERIAL is too sick. It probably is. No worse than TRUCK STOP though. Or AFRAID. Or your books, from what you say.

JA:
Do the negative reviews bother you?

Jack:
They amuse me. I love the ones from people who give it one star and stopped reading on page 3.

JA:
It’s a nasty little story, but fun. And it’s free, right?

Jack:
SERIAL is 100% free. So I see from searching Amazon.com that you’ve got a bunch of books you put up on Kindle yourself. You’ve priced them all under $2.00. Why so cheap?

JA:
I don’t feel ebooks should be expensive. There’s no cost to print or ship. Why should I charge the same price as a print book?

Jack:
I agree. Cheap and free are what readers want. What’s ORIGIN about?

JA:
It’s technohorror. The US government is studying Satan in a secret research lab. He’s the Dante version: horns, hoofs, wings, eats live sheep. The book is sort of JURASSIC PARK meets THE EXORCIST.

Jack:
What’s THE LIST?

JA:
I don’t want to spoil it. Let’s just say it’s a technothriller about some very famous good guys and bad guys. Jack Daniels also has a cameo.

Jack:
Jack Daniels is in another one of your exclusive Kindle books, SHOT OF TEQUILA.

JA:
She’s the co-star in that. It’s sort of an Elmore Leonard-type crime novel, with a lot of action.

Jack:
How about DISTURB?

JA:
Another technothriller, with a medical slant. A pharmaceutical company invents a pill that replaces a full night of sleep. But it has some pretty horrible side-effects.

Jack:
Violent and gruesome?

JA:
Of course.

Jack:
What is 55 PROOF?

JA:
A collection of fifty-five short stories. It has some previously published Jack Daniels shorts, and also some horror stuff. Some of the horror is pretty hardcore. Tread lightly.

Jack:
FLOATERS?

JA:
Another Jack Daniels novella, that I wrote with Henry Perez.

Jack:
PLANTER’S PUNCH?

JA:
Jack Daniels again, a novella I wrote with Tom Schreck.

Jack:
You’re really milking this Jack Daniels thing. Is she in SUCKERS too?

JA:
I wrote SUCKERS with Jeff Strand. Jack isn’t in it, but one of her series regulars, Harry McGlade, is the hero. It’s funny, and pretty sick.

Jack:
Finally, you got this poetry collection called DIRTY JOKES & VULGAR POEMS for only eighty cents. Does it suck?

JA:
I’d have to say that’s the greatest thing I’ve ever written. Some of the jokes and poems are so disgusting, so bad, so totally wrong, that I expect it will someday become a TV series.

Jack:
Poetry is stupid.

JA:
This isn’t like the crap you had to read in school. This is funny stuff.

Jack:
For eighty cents, maybe I’ll try it. So are you working on another Jack Daniels novel?

JA:
It’s called SHAKEN. There’s an excerpt in PLANTER’S PUNCH. What are you working on now?

Jack:
Another in-your-face technohorror novel.

JA:
Go figure. Should we discuss what it was like working together on writing TRUCK STOP?

Jack:
Why? You think anyone is actually still reading this?

JA:
It’s possible.

Jack:
Working with you was fine. No problems. Except for that dumb pun you wanted to keep in the story.

JA:
At the end, I wanted Latham to say to Jack, “First you hit that pimp with the salt shaker, then you threw salt in Taylor’s face. So, technically, you
asalted
two men.”

Jack:
Yeah. That pun. There’s something wrong with you.

JA:
I like it. Maybe I’ll stick it back in the story.

Jack:
So, we done here?

JA:
I think so.

Jack:
Good. This was getting kind of long. Besides, I’ve got plans later that involve sleeping with your wife. I think she likes me more than you.

JA:
I think you’re right…
 

Jack Kilborn is the author of the technohorror novel
AFRAID
, already released by Headline Books in the UK, and Grand Central in the US. Visit him at
www.jackkilborn.com
.

JA Konrath is the author of the Lt. Jack Daniels thrillers. His sixth,
CHERRY BOMB
, was just released in hardcover by Hyperion. Visit him at
www.jakonrath.com
.

All of Jack’s and JA’s books are available as ebooks, and as audiobooks from Brilliance Audio. And if you haven’t figured it out yet, JA Konrath and Jack Kilborn are the same person. Ask their wife.

T
he hunter’s moon, a shade of orange so dark it appeared to be filled with blood, hung fat and low over the mirror surface of Big Lake McDonald. Sal Morton took in a lungful of crisp Wisconsin air, shifted on his seat cushion, and cast his
Lucky 13
over the stern. The night of fishing had been uneventful; a few small bass earlier in the evening, half a dozen Northern Pike—none bigger than a pickle—and then, nothing. The zip of his baitcaster unspooling and the plop of the bait hitting the water were the only sounds he’d heard for the last hour.

Until the helicopter exploded.

It was already over the water before Sal noticed it. Black, without any lights, silhouetted by the moon. And quiet. Twenty years ago Sal had taken his wife Maggie on a helicopter ride at the Dells, both of them forced to ride with their hands clamped over their ears to muffle the sound. This one made a fraction of that noise. It hummed, like a refrigerator.

The chopper came over the lake on the east side, low enough that its downdraft produced large eddies and waves. So close to the water Sal wondered if its wake might overturn his twelve foot aluminum boat. He ducked as it passed over him, knocking off his Packers baseball cap, scattering lures, lifting several empty Schmidt beer cans and tossing them overboard.

Sal dropped his pole next to his feet and gripped the sides of the boat, moving his body against the pitch and yaw. When capsizing ceased to be a fear, Sal squinted at the helicopter for a tag, a marking, some sort of ID, but it lacked both writing and numbers. It might as well have been a black ghost.

Three heartbeats later the helicopter had crossed the thousand yard expanse of lake and dipped down over the tree line on the opposite shore. What was a helicopter doing in Safe Haven? Especially at night? Why was it flying so low? And why did it appear to have landed near his house?

Then came the explosion.

He felt it a moment after he saw it. A vibration in his feet, as if someone had hit the bow with a bat. Then a soft warm breeze on his face, carrying mingling scents of burning wood and gasoline. The cloud of flames and smoke went up at least fifty feet.

After watching for a moment, Sal retrieved his pole and reeled in his lure, then pulled the starter cord on his 7.5 horsepower Evinrude. The motor didn’t turn over. The second and third yank yielded similar results. Sal swore and began to play with the choke, wondering if Maggie was scared by the crash, hoping she was all right.

Maggie Morton awoke to what she thought was thunder. Storms in upper Wisconsin could be as mean as anywhere on earth, and in the twenty-six years they’d owned this house she and Sal had to replace several cracked windows and half the roof due to weather damage.

She opened her eyes, listened for the dual accompaniment of wind and rain. Strangely, she heard neither.

Maggie squinted at the red blur next to the bed, groped for her glasses, pushed them on her face. The blur focused and became the time: 10:46

“Sal?” she called. She repeated it, louder, in case he was downstairs.

No answer. Sal usually fished until midnight, so his absence didn’t alarm her. She considered flipping on the light, but investigating the noise that woke her held much less appeal than the soft down pillow and the warm flannel sheets tucked under her chin. Maggie removed her glasses, returned them to the night stand, and went back to sleep.

The sound of the front door opening roused her sometime later.

“Sal?”

She listened to the footfalls below her, the wooden floors creaking. First in the hallway, and then into the kitchen.