By Brian Keene
One morning the citizens of Walden, Virginia, awakened to discover the remainder of the area long past. simply . . . long past.
Surrounding their city was once a wall of inky darkness, plummeting Walden into everlasting evening. not anything can get in - no longer gentle, now not humans, no longer even electrical energy, radio, television, net, foodstuff, or water. And not anything can get out. nobody who dared to penetrate the mysterious barrier has ever been visible back. merely their screams have been heard.
But for a few, the darkness isn't the worst in their fears. pushed mad via thirst, starvation, and perpetual evening, the citizens of Walden are able to explode. the previous few sane prisoners of this small city needs to arrange a last stand opposed to their pals, themselves, and whatever even worse . . . anything available in the market . . . within the darkness . . .
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Extra resources for Darkness on the Edge of Town
He sat in a lawn chair, and the drinks were in a foam container between his feet. There was no ice inside. He was bundled up in a winter coat. The dudes who ran the Blockbuster store didn’t seem concerned about the morning chill. They had the doors propped open to let in the breeze, and some hip-hop song that I didn’t recognize drifted out into the road. They must have had a battery-powered CD player or something. Not everyone was armed with a flashlight or candles, and I heard several people stumble and trip in the darkness.
We can’t move on to Heaven or Hell, because we’re trapped here. Stranded. According to Christy, this is why ghosts always hang around the place where they died—because the darkness prevents them from leaving. The problem is, Christy does a lot of drugs—or did, up until she ran out of them—so her conclusions are kind of suspect. Now, don’t get me wrong. She wasn’t into the hard stuff. She never did heroin or meth or anything like that. She just loved smoking weed and enjoyed the occasional line of coke or a tab of Ecstasy.
But all the shit that went down after the darkness came—calling it evil would have been too easy. It was brutal and savage, but it wasn’t evil. It was just humans being. Like that? Pretty clever, if I do say so myself. Gallows fucking humor. But it’s true. All the rapes and murders and arson and everything else that’s happened since the darkness arrived—it was all just humans being human. People reverting back to type. Turning primitive. Devolving back to how we behaved when we were still afraid of the dark.
Darkness on the Edge of Town by Brian Keene