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Newsletter 11/28/24


Without Saying Goodbye Releases December 5th.

Chapter 1(Teaser)

Without Saying Goodbye Releases December 5th.

In the spirit of its upcoming release, I thought I'd give the first chapter away for free. Remember, if you like it PLEASE either pre-order on Amazon or save the date in your calendar so you can buy it when it comes out.

Chapter 1(Teaser)

When they caught up to me, I’d been lying in bed crying for hours. The door splintered as they burst into my room. They blew in, two of them, larger than life. At first, they were just massive shadows. Nothing more.

The rampant pounding of my heart rang through my ears as I rolled off the bed. The first one, bald and uglier than a Christmas sweater, got kicked in the stomach. It didn’t stop him for long. I tried to jump over the bed and spring for the door when the second guy caught my foot.

A long face with bloodshot eyes stared back at me as he pulled. The blankets slid beneath me.

As we wrestled, I tried to get the bald one into a headlock. With both of his hands on the bed, I had a slight advantage, allowing me to pound his face a few times. They were bigger than me and I had no illusion I’d win.

The second one jerked my arms behind my back. Before he could get them into the arresting position, I elbowed him in the nose. Unfortunately, he didn’t bleed.

I kicked and pleaded for help.

Somewhere down the hall, my brother Freddy screamed.

I prayed my father would come ripping through the door with his gun, but the longer it went on, the more that hope disappeared.

Neither of them wore uniforms or badges and sure as hell didn’t look like cops. For a second, I thought they might be undercover, but that didn’t make sense either. There weren’t any cuffs. They didn’t say I was under arrest or read me any rights. Neither of them had flashed a warrant or anything.

Rolling over, I managed one final kick. Not against the bald guy, but his long-haired counterpart. The bottom of my foot collided with his chin, tossing his head back. The noise that escaped his mouth was guttural and ferocious.

After the fight of my life, they finally got control and dragged me out of my bedroom. Freddy stood at the end of the hall, tears pouring down his face.

My father had his arms wrapped around Freddy, holding him back. He wasn’t trying to help. Not only did he know they were coming, but he’d called them. Somehow, I knew it.

My brother screamed, “Let him go!” He pivoted and pounded my father’s chest. “Make them stop!” His shrill voice pierced my ears. “Make them stop!”

Using what little weight I had, I rammed one of them into the wall. It worked, but aside from knocking a picture to the floor, nothing came of it. He grunted and regained control.

I jerked and pulled, trying to break free. “Who are you?”

Glass crunched below my heel. A shattered picture of our family lay on the floor. The perfect metaphor.

As we marched outside, my father followed. “They’re taking you away for a little while, Adam. It’s for your own good.”

It doesn’t feel like it’s for my own good.

If I could have hit my father, too, he would have gotten worse than either of them.

They dragged me toward a white van, and I tried to run again. It had been the worst day of my life and I figured there’d be consequences, but I didn’t expect that. I didn’t think two strangers would kidnap me.

What the hell did you do to me, Dad?

The door rolled open, and they slung me inside. Through the tinted windows, I saw my brother and father standing on the lawn. Freddy continued screaming. His hands were clamped over his ears and tears ran down his face. “Adam! Please stop! Adam!” His voice pounded into my skull like a nail. Snot ran in rivulets down his lip.

Drawing back my head, I slammed it against the window, hoping it would break. I tried again, to no avail. Rolling sideways on the seat, I laid down and tried to kick it free, but it didn’t budge. A cage separated the back seat from the front, which meant I couldn’t reach them.

The cage rattled as I kicked it. “I’m going to get you motherfuckers! You’re going to pay!” Blurry eyed and angry, I tossed threats at them until my voice went hoarse. I threw myself at the cage like a trapped animal until everything hurt.

If the insults and threats roused them at all, they showed no sign.

Exhausted from my efforts, I laid down. When I thought the worst day of my life couldn’t get any worse, it did.

Inside, I felt broken beyond repair. A long time passed as I laid there staring at the van’s cloth ceiling. The subtle hum of the tires resonated in my skull. It even outdid the classic rock station on the radio.

Sitting bolt upright, I demanded, “Where are you taking me?”

My kidnappers glanced at one another.

When I decided they weren’t going to tell me, I punched the cage, breaking the skin on my knuckles. “Tell me, you cocksuckers! Tell me now!”

Rather than answering, they turned up the radio. I punched the cage again, drawing more blood. I kicked it several times, literally rattling their cage.

After what felt like an hour, I regained my composure and laid down again. Denial drifted, making way for acceptance. Everyone thinks it won’t happen to them, until it does.

Rock ‘n’ roll guitars filled the van, accompanied by the sounds of the highway. Outside trees whizzed by.

 

Between us the projector whirs, flickering Twilight on the screen. We have the drive-in to ourselves. We always have the drive-in to ourselves because it’s been closed for two years. I can’t focus on the movie, only on her. The gaunt face that hasn’t known a smile in a long time, makeup that runs more than it stays.

“Does it get better?”

The urge to kiss her passes, momentarily.

I can’t make it better.

 

When I look up again, the sun has vanished, leaving behind a network of stars. The volume on the radio came down, but the two men remained stoic. If they’d taken any damage at all in our brawl, I couldn’t tell.

The urge to kick out the window fled because I’d accepted my fate. I’m getting what’s coming to me. Had I kept my word, things would have ended differently. If only I’d kept my promise.

Pushing myself up from the seat, my hand landed in the wet spot where the cushion had absorbed my tears. I stared out the window, trying to determine where we were going. Nothing looked familiar.

I deserve this. Whatever it is.

A man came over the radio, discussing the weather. He mentioned a handful of towns I’d never heard of. I pressed my memory, searching for the answers that seemed light years away. My thoughts were scattered, and I didn’t think I’d ever recover them all.

The bald man looked over his shoulder and said, “We’re almost there.”

Part of me wanted to ask where, but I knew better. They wouldn’t tell me.

Gravel popped below the tires as we descended a dirt road. Looming trees crowded the road, blotting the sky. We’d been driving for much too long for it to be New Hampshire. I hadn’t been paying attention to see if we’d gone north or south. I cursed myself for that mistake.

We passed a sign that read Bradbury School.

If I had my cellphone, I’d have searched it, but it sat on the nightstand where I was certain it would remain long after the battery died. My father wouldn’t touch it. Although I couldn’t be sure, I didn’t think Freddy would either.

My father’s voice ran through my head. “It’s for your own good.”

Fuck you, it’s for my own good.

The road turned and opened up to a handful of buildings that didn’t look like a school, but more like cabins at a summer camp. In the front was a basketball hoop that looked brand new. One building in the center stood much larger than the others.

Even before the van stopped, I knew it wasn’t like the brochures they hand out at school. I wasn’t foolish enough to think my father sent me somewhere nice for rest and relaxation, not after all I’d done.

A man approached with a clipboard in his hand. The slim, balding man fixed his wire framed glasses on his face and stopped at the side of the road. Something about him made me uneasy. Although he didn’t look particularly threatening, he scared me.

Before we got out, the man with hair said, “Don’t try anything stupid.”

The bald man got out, nodded to the man in the glasses and pulled open the door.

I stepped out.

With both of them so close, I stood no chance of escaping. Even if I did run, I didn’t know where I’d go because I didn’t know where I was.

Adjusting the clipboard so he could read from the nearby light, he said “Adam Deluca, I presume?”

I nodded.

He lowered the clipboard to look at me. “Welcome to Bradbury School. My name is Mr. Sanborn. I’m in charge here. You’re here because your choices have brought you here. We are fully committed to rehabilitating you. If you should get the urge to run away, we will find you.”

Rehabilitation? This doesn’t look like any rehab I’ve ever heard of.

He might have read my mind. “It’s a school not a rehab, Mr. Deluca. Although, it isn’t uncommon for some of our alumni to struggle with narcotics prior to their stay here.”

As he continued his speech, my eyes stumbled upon a small shack with smoke rolling out of it. Two beady eyes stared back at me from the shadows. They really were prepared for runaways.

Grabbing my arm, Mr. Sanborn nodded to the bald motherfucker. “I’ve got it from here. Thank you.”

Checking over my shoulder, I watched as the van slid down the dirt road and out of sight. There were a couple of cars in the lot not too far from the basketball hoop. Otherwise, the place looked deserted. Most of the lights in the smaller buildings were off.

Our first stop wasn’t an administration building like I expected. He didn’t show me directly to my bunk, either. Instead, we went to the showers where he forced me to strip down and take a delouse shower, which is something they do in prison.

Cold water splashed my head, sending shivers ripping through me and raising gooseflesh on my skin. I scrubbed at the gritty powdered soap with nothing but my fingers. Mr. Sanborn stood behind me, checking the clipboard.

Over the bellowing water, he hollered, “Your program is for one year. Until then, do what I say. You’re not here for a luxury retreat. You’re here because you screwed up and I have to help you fix it. Do you understand?”

Being screamed at is bad. Being screamed at naked is worse.





Author Spotlight



Z. Martin is a horror short story author. A husband and father of three. A former marine and a full time worker. Z enjoys spending time with family and wood working when not trying to horrify people with his stories. 



Ten floors



One wish



How far are you willing to go to get what your heart desires? Dan, already at the end of his rope, has nothing left to lose. Why not traverse the derelict Pelican hotel and fix his crappy life.



He’s already lost it all.



What’s the worst that could happen?




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