Salvage

Salvage

Duncan Ralston

Now what’s not to love about the premise of a town submerged by a manmade lake? The possibilities for creepiness are damn-near infinite. Not being a fan of things underwater, Ralston’s setting had me curious from the blurb (or to be completely honest, from back when I first heard about the working premise around a year or so ago). Having read the book, oh yeah, all my submerged phobias came floating up to the surface: claustrophobia, drowning, floating in weightless murkiness. Yep, effectively creeped out. And there is also something unsettling about being on the surface of a body of water and not knowing what is waiting in that unknown darkness.

In this case it’s the ruins of a town, and metaphorically, it is the ruins of a man’s childhood. That man is Owen Saddler, a depressive who is forced to discover the truth about his past. A ghost story, and a human story, Salvage is both. The horrors of death and the horrors of life are melded together and left moldering in the murky depths of Chapel Lake, waiting for Owen to illuminate them.

Illumination is the hard part. Like recollection, viewing through water is distorted, refracted, unreal. The town of Peace Falls, abandoned for the sake of progress in the form of a hydroelectric dam and subsequent manmade lake, is a metaphor for memory. The town sits there, under the water, the church steeple still projecting skyward above the surface. Divers can visit the ruins, swim threw its decaying, collapsing buildings, even look for a trinket or two to salvage. However, like memories, the town isn’t what it once was. Being underwater, it has physically changed. It is dead, a ghost town, a subsurface Fukushima or Pripyat. As are memories. Time has changed them, skewed them into something better or worse than the actual “remembered” event. The metaphor, in Ralston’s novel, works perfectly. There are unknown physical dangers underwater. There are unknown dangers under the mental blanket. Some things are better left undisturbed on the streets and in the church of what once was Peace Falls. But humans aren’t typically content to let drowned dogs lie. For a truth is waiting, in the deepest part of Peace Falls, and in the deepest recess of the mind. Owen needs to find it, know it, confront it.

A sad, poignant, and heartbreaking look at how childhood trauma can linger and corrupt. I’ve read and loved Ralston’s earlier novellas and short stories. In Salvage he surpasses his earlier work with a debut novel that is a masterful blend of what I enjoy from his stories: wit, sarcasm, sinking creepiness, the unexpected, believable characters, and above all, a relevant plot. Highly entertaining, very creepy, and wonderfully written. Sometimes you don’t want to go into the water, but sometimes you have no other choice.

Links

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Salvage-Duncan-Ralston-ebook/dp/B015G6ZZDY/

Website: http://www.duncanralston.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/duncanralstonfiction/?fref=ts

Twitter: https://twitter.com/DuncanGRalston

“//End User”

“//End User”

(from the collection Gristle & Bone)

Duncan Ralston

Genre: Apocalypse

Sub-genre: Techno-apoc

Novel, novella, short story: short story

Serial or stand alone: from the author’s collection Gristle & Bone

Setting: urban, non-specific

Characters: Mason, “Jenna”

Synopsis: Mason is a skeptic. Not the religious kind, no, his skepticism is to things human. Big things, government things hidden in deep bunkers. When he starts to receive strange emails sent from his own account, he figures it is those nefarious, shadowy agencies announcing his theories were no longer appreciated. However, the messages are much more than a government protected its secrets.

Excerpt: “The final message from Mason’s mysterious Spammer was a link. He didn’t want to see what this person—or persons—had to show him, but curiosity trumped logic yet again. Logic wasn’t having a very good day.

Squinching his eyes shut, Mason clicked it.

He heard the rumble and screech of a subway train.

No, his mind screamed. No, no, NO!

But his eyes confirmed the answer was indeed yes. Yes, it was College Station. Yes, the timecode was just about the time of the suicide—or murder—and yes, he was more than a little terrified. His heart leapt like a cat in a cage as he muted the sound.

The train entered a crowded station. Passengers filed out, passengers filed in. The doors closed, and the train rolled on. The security camera had a good view of the Designated Waiting Area, looking down on the benches and waste cans, the suicide hotline phone—diplomatically (as was Canadian custom) referred to as the “Crisis Link”—and the yawning black mouth of the exit tunnel.

A few riders were left on the platform, one of whom was a man in a trench coat who stood on the yellow line, much too close to the tracks. A few more people filed in: a woman with an overly large stroller (what Mason liked to call a Baby Mobile Command Unit); a man walking while staring at his tablet; a gaggle of teenage girls laughing and acting generally annoying; and a man with a bushy beard and stained coveralls, who looked like he could have been homeless.

Suddenly a huge spark of electricity zapped out from the covered cables on the wall. Tablet Man, who’d been leaning against the wall to read, jumped out of the way, his large feet kicking out comically as he backed into Trenchcoat. Trenchcoat stumbled, still much too close to the tracks. He swung his arms in a circular motion to regain his balance, the tail of his coat whipping out behind him like an actor in a John Woo movie.

Too late. Trenchcoat disappeared behind the ledge. Smoke began to rise, presumably from the third rail, as a crowd gathered. The homeless-looking man ran for the edge and reached out. A charred hand came up from the tracks, grasping at it….

The homeless man jerked a look to the left. He jumped to his feet and waved his arms frantically.

Bystanders leapt back in terror as the train rushed in, filling the void, wincing as the train crushed the man in the trench coat to death.”

 

Thoughts: Ralston’s Gristle & Bone was the first thing I ever read on my Kindle. That was back in March. I’ve read many works since then. And even after all those words written by many talented writers, “//End User” is still my favorite apocalyptic story. The ending really funny. The ironical humor reminded me of scenes from Shute’s On the Beach. Technology gone awry is a fascinating apocalyptic sub-genre. Here it is done with wit and human intelligence. Though the AI is remarkably “well-developed.”

About the author: In addition to Gristle & Bone, Duncan has also published the collection Sweat & Blood. His full length novel, Salvage, was released in 2015. He lives in Toronto with his girlfriend and dog. Duncan is also slated to be the first contributor (outside of myself) to Poets of the Dead Society.

Links

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Gristle-Bone-Duncan-Ralston-ebook/dp/B011HOABNS/

Website: http://duncanralston.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/userbits

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/duncanralstonfiction

Gristle and Bone

Gristle & Bone

Duncan Ralston

A collection of seven tales which could easily have come from the pen of Stephen King. As I read Ralston’s Gristle & Bone I was mentally transported back to when I first read Kings’ Night Shift and Skeleton Crew.

These are seven diverse stories. From a woman longing for a child of her own, to a century-old cult, to unexplained technological eeriness, to good old-fashioned creepiness with ghosts, revenge, and monsters, each of the stories stands on its own.  The prose is descriptive without being overdone. The myriad settings come alive, as do the characters and their relative issues and dilemmas.

The collection begins with “Baby Teeth”, a disturbing short of a depressed woman who longs for motherhood. While unsettling, it does set the tone for what follows, leaving the reader on edge as to what other ghoulish twists and turns lay waiting. The next tale, “Fat of the Land.” does nothing to ease the tension, with its sinister old cult. Nor does “Beware of Dog” and its take on bullying, the scars which result, and the lives effected while young. Oh, and there is a dog involved.

Not until “//End User” is the reader given a brief reprieve, as this tale is of technology gone awry. The ending to this one is far and away my favorite. I’ve commented on it a couple of times elsewhere, but I will refrain from elaborating here. Let’s just say it ends with a pleasant mental image.

“Viral” follows. And this is another modern tale, combining the paranormal with technology. Creepy in its ambiguity, and perhaps a warning as to what the future may have in store.

“Artifact #37” is a good old tale of ghostly revenge.

And that brings us to final tale: “Scavengers.” With its folksy, connected-to-the-events, but-still-an-outsider narrator, this, even more so than the others, could have come straight from King. A fascinating story of creepies living amongst us, and what two people decided to do about these covert ghouls. Being the longest, this is by far the most in-depth of the seven. It raises an interesting moral point, if the actions of the two main characters were actually justified. I see this as a fable with a very strong message, which isn’t didactically shoved down the reader’s throat. Such is the mark of a great storyteller, of which Duncan Ralston unquestionably is.

I highly recommend this book for any fan of well-written horror. With its range of subjects and settings I was not once bored or felt I was rereading the same story, merely with a different title. This is a truly great collection from a very talented, funny, diverse, macabre, and witty writer. And he’s not afraid of throwing in a few shocks from time to time.

Links

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Gristle-Bone-Duncan-Ralston-ebook/dp/B011HOABNS/  myBook.to/GristleAndBone 

Website: http://duncanralston.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/userbits

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/duncanralstonfiction