“Foreboding” might have been the appropriate word. “Dread.” The PROMISE of fear. It was tangible fear... smellable... the stale odor soaking into the dirt and lingering in the windless jungle of dead branches and train tracks to nowhere; lovelier than… — Jake Vander-Ark Copy Share Image
“The search party became zombie silhouettes in shafts of early-morning light, yawning, despondent, and halfway home when a boy’s scream pierced the fog—“OVER HERE!”—and… — Jake Vander-Ark Copy Share Image
“The feeling was FEAR, she realized... but it was a new type of fear; more sincere than the jitters she felt when it rained… — Jake Vander-Ark Copy Share Image
“The whirlwind in his brain—which had so many times tugged his pituitary in ways that made him TAKE instead of GIVE— subsided for the… — Jake Vander-Ark Copy Share Image
“Trevor could almost see the invisible gas leaking from the broken furnace, billowing around his body, wafting in his wake from the laundry room… — Jake Vander-Ark Copy Share Image
“New sounds rustled through her anti-depressant haze; a gentle reverberation from the heart of the home... another creek... another thunk... rapid clicking like the… — Jake Vander-Ark Copy Share Image
“I’m trying to be an adult. I’m trying to be responsible. I’m trying not to call home crying. But it’s hard. It’s hard when… — Jake Vander-Ark Copy Share Image
“He smirked. “Decision time, pretty lady... back to reality?” She touched his cheek. “Or down the rabbit hole?” — Jake Vander-Ark Copy Share Image
“Memories of last night manifested slowly from the back of her brain, every new detail hammering her heart like a war drum: the flowers,… — Jake Vander-Ark Copy Share Image
“Trevor climbed once again to the land of the living, naked except for an antique gas mask strapped to his face. As he peered… — Jake Vander-Ark Copy Share Image
“She wondered if she was the only person trying not to imagine what death-by-bear looked like. Would bears pick the bones white? Or would… — Jake Vander-Ark Copy Share Image
“The scar rippled from the top of her bikini line down to her thigh. Where normal girls had hair, Ava had a quilt of… — Jake Vander-Ark Copy Share Image
“She grappled his shoulder and pulled him closer; her nose in his neck and the memory-scent of her very first time; that sickly-sweet stench… — Jake Vander-Ark Copy Share Image
“Foreboding” might have been the appropriate word. “Dread.” The PROMISE of fear. It was tangible fear... smellable... the stale odor soaking into the dirt… — Jake Vander-Ark Copy Share Image
“She was stubborn. She was evolving. She needed SOLITUDE like normal people needed exercise.” — Jake Vander-Ark Copy Share Image
“The boy was there too, stumbling through the living room horde and passing out magic mushrooms from a paper bag. His eyeballs sparkled inside… — Jake Vander-Ark Copy Share Image
