Things are slowly rolling along on Blood Routes and I’m getting more and more excited to get this thing up and running every day. Dale Murphy, head guru over at Graveside Tales, is making sure that this thing looks spectacular and has the ever-talented Stephen Blundell working up some promotional artwork as I type this.
I’ve added a little teaser-ish sorta thing over at the official Blood Routes page to sort of keep everyone posted in the subtlest way possible. So go over and check it out and remember: It’s never to early to subscribe!
And now, because patience is NOT a virtue that I posses, I thought I’d post some excerpts here that I placed on the Graveside Tales forums last week:
Evan continued to make his way up the stairs, not daring to look back. He knew that there was the thinnest amount of light at the bottom of the door but he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to see any more. Yet, as he took one more step closer to the top, he realized that he could actually see the immediate space beside him. The light that barely crept in through the closed door was working with his slowly adjusting eyes and he was slowly beginning to make out what the darkness was hiding from him.
He saw the texture of the stairs and his shoes. There was blood on his shoes as well as some other residue, a slimy substance that looked like snot. He wondered if it was the product of whatever had touched his shoe while he had sat on the cellar floor….It was then that there was a tug at his leg and he went sliding down the stairs. As he fell backwards, he felt several other shapes grabbing at him: something fell across his chest in a wet, sticky caress; something fell in his face, a bitter tasting appendage slipping into his mouth and over his tongue.
He hit the ground hard and something juicy popped under his weight. There was a child-like wail of pain from beneath him, followed by an excited clamor of clucks and other throaty sounds.
Evan tried to open his mouth to scream but realized that his mouth was already open. There was something in it, something with a texture of raw fish and tasted a bit like dirt and vomit. He tried to voice something but only gagged.
Evan turned away as the man walked around the seats and started down the aisle. He felt certain that if he made eye contact with this man, he’d probably soil himself. He began to panic, his heart hammering and his eyes fixed firmly on the back of the seat in front of him. He didn’t see how he had overlooked such appearances when he had loaded onto the bus. The lights had been dimmed and the dark desert night outside had done little to help. But now, with the bus stopped and the front door open, the overhead lights were on at full force and Evan felt like he had stepped into another world.
When the frail man with white hair passed him, Evan cringed. He feared that the man would stop and say something to him. But the man said nothing, did not even look in Evan’s direction. He only stared blankly ahead and walked slowly, falling in behind the other passengers.
Evan forced himself to look out from behind the seat and to the row of marching passengers. He didn’t see much, but what he did see nearly sent him over the edge.
What he saw was the back of a skinny man wearing only a pair of camouflage pants. Like the rest of the passengers, this man didn’t have any luggage; he had no suitcases, no bags, no books, nothing.
Instead, he held an axe in each hand, the blades hanging limply by the floor and glimmering sickly in the dull glare of the overhead lights.
I hope to see you all over there when the posts begin. Please spread the word and keep coming back. More updates here as they become available!