2022-12-09
Monsters, ghosts, and relentless dread inhabit this anthology of Texas-based horror short stories.
The beautiful Lone Star State, as these tales prove, sees more than its share of frights. A bad storm hits Texas in Hayden Gilbert’s “Ax-Squatch.” Volunteer firefighters Isaiah and Holly “Hound Dog” clear roads of fallen trees but soon run into a terrifying creature stalking their nearly vacant county. It’s just one of the many horrible entities and occurrences that characters throughout this collection suffer. There are people seeking lethal revenge; all sorts of beings with claws or wings; and even the possibility of aliens. The horror, nevertheless, isn’t always tangible. In Madison Estes’ opening tale, “Pestilence,” Allison is convinced her cheating boyfriend gave her something—an itchiness and an overwhelming sense of “filth” that simply won’t go away. And in Patrick C. Harrison III’s “The Devil Witch of Hanging Oak,” former enslaved man and narrator Chuks recounts the whirlwind of events that will result in his hanging, which is only minutes away. The stories’ scariest moments typically don’t crop up until the end. Readers, for example, won’t immediately know what Eladio is up to in Tytus Berry’s “Definitive Act.” His elaborate plan, which involves a 9-by-12-inch manila envelope and a razor, only makes sense later, with a denouement that’s a play on a classic piece of literature. While all the tales share a genre and their Southern setting, they feature a variety of time periods, from the 1800s and the early 20th century to, in one instance, the mysterious year “198_.”In this seventh installment of a series, Jensen compiles a memorable batch of eerie stories that readers can polish off in an afternoon. These Texas authors weave relatable themes, such as love and family, into unsettling narratives. For example, Alex in John Kojak’s “The Boogie” gives a ride on a rainy Houston night to a paying stranger. His passenger, a father like Alex, tells how his 4-year-old daughter’s bedtime stories led to a bizarre haunting. Other tales deftly tackle issues like racism and misogyny. In the case of Cedrick May’s dark Western “Ambush and Blood for a Hoodoo Cowboy,” a Black man in 19th-century post-slavery Texas and a Seminole face off against a vicious, bigoted gang. Similarly, Jacklyn Baker elevates the fear of a sudden pregnancy in “Blue Moon” as a single woman named Adriana gradually realizes her unborn child is growing unnaturally fast. These authors prove to be gifted storytellers, including Texas-born journalist and Pulitzer Prize–winning novelist Katherine Anne Porter, whose entry, “The Grave,” finds young siblings learning about death. (Porter died in 1980.) Consistently strong prose abounds in this collection, including from Patrick Torres, who writes in “Secrets That Keep Us”: “Falling stars lit the sky for a moment….Voices came from the fields. Some were chanting, some speaking Spanish and Nahuatl and languages more ancient.” There’s plenty of violence that horror fans will likely anticipate; characters spill blood, lose body parts, and endure horrid treatment from others. But tension drives these tales as well, such as a character watching years-old security footage to determine if a girl is alive or not and someone hearing the onomatopoeic cues of a wretched, unseen thing.
Gleefully unnerving and often profound scary tales.