by Thom Erb
“Oh really? Bite me, bitch. I got your ‘lack of faith’ hanging.” Barry turned to face the man, his boney hands balled into shaking fists. “Unless you got some mystical bullshit plan I don’t know about, I’d get to stepping if you don’t want me to hand you your ass in your hand, dude!”
The man laughed again, and then suddenly whipped around to face Barry. His red eyes burst like two quasars, blinding Barry, who stepped back.
“Do not test me, boy. I am not to be trifled with.” The man said. The glow faded to a dull burn and the man grabbed ahold of Barry’s shoulder. “I am here to aid you, Mr. Lee. Not to mock you. If you do not wish my assistance, I am more than content to return you to your previous state. I will say however, if you accept, you will be just like those rotting drones below. The choice is completely up to you.”
A long moment filled with ball-rumbling thunder passed and Barry chewed over his options. He came to a pragmatic decision. He only had one choice. It was pretty damn simple. He wanted to keep on living, no matter what form it took; other than the shambling assholes below. Besides, he needed to kill his brother and that lard ass, Brennan.
“I’m in, dude. What do I do?”
The man gripped Barry by the shoulder and turned Barry to face him.
“There is still a significant role for you to play, Mr. Lee. You will head into the city and there, you will find your purpose. You must have faith. Whether it is hanging, or not.”
Barry pulled away, looked toward the heart of Rochester and asked. “That’s a mighty vague statement, man. Can you be a bit more specific? I’m getting tired of this Golden Child, prophecy bullshit.”
The man’s brash laughter echoed off the myriad of tombstones and his eyes once again glowed a crimson red. “Trust in the Master, Mr. Lee. There are others within this city, and beyond, that are in need of your unique...abilities. While I cannot speak with absolute certainty, I would suggest you find the answers in the hall of books.”
And with that, the man was gone, leaving Barry alone amongst the driving rain and oncoming dawn. “What an asshole. Hall of books? What the hell is that? Ah, I’ll figure that shit out. I always do. ‘Sides, staying this side of a dirt nap ain’t a bad thing. And, somebody has to become king of this new dead world...Why not me?”
Barry did what came instinctual; whether in life or in death: He let his Id direct him, knowing he was following him the prodding from the dick in the hat. He shook his head and shouted to the army that followed him below. “Hey, pussbuckets, Follow me. I still see a certain wannabe tough guy, Arnie and an AARP-lookin’ bastard, DJ that need some lovin’. Follow me.”
With the dim light of dawn fighting to claw its way through night’s dominance, Barry led the undead army down the hill to where Arnie and Capt. Al fought for their lives. Once he took care of them, Barry would turn his attention toward downtown Rochester and the Rundell Library.
An army of moaning undead followed.
DID YOU ENJOY THE LAST IN LINE?
The adventure continues in
HEAVEN AND HELL-
The Eternal Flame Trilogy Book Two.
COMING IN 2019!
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OTHER BOOKS BY THOM ERB:
Heaven, Hell, or Houston- Eternal Flame Tale Book One.
Tones of Home- Out of Print- It will be re-released in 2019.
Dark Gardens- Short story collection.
Fund-Raiser- A Cautionary Short story Tale.
As Editor:
Christmas in Hell- Holiday horror collection.
Death, Be Not Proud- A zombie short story collection.
COMING 2019:
Heaven and Hell- The Eternal Flame Trilogy- Book Two.
Whiskey Bent and Hell Bound- Eternal Flame Tale Book Two.
Running on Empty- An Eternal Flame Tale novella- (Book 3)
FREE ERB!
SEE HOW THE WORLD ENDED...
Every ending has a beginning. In this free collection of vignettes, the Prelude to the Apocalypse sheds light on the origins of the Sanctity Virus, the Keepers of the Eternal Flame and the Children of Light.
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SPECIAL THANKS:
Ronnie James Dio, Iron Maiden, RUSH, Black Sabbath, Judas Priest, Twisted Sister, Motley Crue, Krokus, Loudness, Krokus, Kix, Stryper, Queensryche, Black Sabbath, WASP, Y&T, Quiet Riot, Ratt, Scorpions, Crimson Glory, Autograph, Armored Saint, Metal Church, Metallica, Accept, and all my other favorite 80s metal bands.
Gary Gygax, Dungeons and Dragons and TSR/WTC: You introduced generations of socially awkward, creative geeks, nerds and loners to a whole new world of adventure and cultivated a deep-seated need to be creative and explore our imaginations. No, we finally rule the world! Take that, Jocks! (Just kidding.... sort of.)
To my first readers: Kurt Criscione, Chris Ward, Cassondria Sergent, Eric Ralston, Bridget Manns, You guys gave your precious time and energy and offered great insight and advice to this novel and are indeed part.
A huge Erbal hug goes out to all the CITIZENS of the ERBAL NATION and my incredible Street Team. Y’all bring tears to my eyes with your undying support and honest feedback and hard work. Keep spreading the Erbal Word! Shannon Simmons, Robin Cassella, Stacy Gonzales, Traye Steele, Krista Heaton, Mel Ryan, Tammy Klaver, Susan May, Frank R. Michaels, and more.
Tim Marquitz- a kick arse editor/book formatter that helped make the LIL the groovy tale it is.
Holly Zaldivar- You’re unwavering support and expert word-slaying helped make this book the best it could be. Here’s to much more stories together!
Jim Kavanaugh- Your cover art perfectly captured the 70s-80’s hard rock/metal album cover/movie poster vibe I was shooting for. We have much more work to do my brother.
To David Dunwoody, Phillip Tomasso, David Moody.
The Town of Marion, New York, for the years of inspiration on which Arcadia Falls is loosely based. A great town for a kid in the 70s and 80s to grow up in.
Jonathan Maberry- You are truly the wind beneath my keyboard. You believed and encouraged me, even when I was drowning in self-doubt. You, sir, have singly inspired me more than any other writer and person. You’ve solidified my belief in always helping others. We are all in this adventure together and if one succeeds, we all win. And your mantra is so true.... it pays, ‘not to be a dick!’ Thank you, brother. I am honored to call you friend.
To Brian Keene for inspiring me with his amazing ability to bring things close to home and tell nothing but the truth. Ghoul and The Rising were the turning points in my writing life. Thanks so much! (I loved the original ending to the Rising, by the way. All the haters can go pound rock salt!)
Author's Liner Notes:
The Last in Line, or Aeternus Umbra- as I originally titled it, was the first serious writing project I had ever written. Oh sure, I had written tons of comic book scripts, character backstories for my D&D, Traveler, Twilight 2000, GURPS, Champions, games, but the LIL was a novel, by gum, and I entered that bold and crazy adventure by pure, Erbal accident.
There’s too much, let me sum up.
In April 2004 my Mom passed away and while that is a whole other sad book, this event changed my life forever. After the shock wore off, Shelly and I realized that my Dad wouldn’t be able to live alone and would need company and care. So, after much thinking and planning, we purchased my childhood home and moved in with my Dad back in my hometown of Marion, New York in July.
It didn’t take me too long to realize, as much as I loved my Dad, he could be a... handful. And boy let me tell ya that’s being gentle.
I was attending Nazareth College in Rochester, completing my master’s in art education while Shelly was building her career at her job. Our daughter, Talana (Tali) had a couple years left of high school and was kind enough to provide us with her own unique style of difficulties. Teen
agers, what are ya gonna do? Those were some challenging years. But, the highlight of her switching schools was the fact she got to graduate from my Alma mater, Marion, Jr. /Sr. High school. (A setting which is featured in this book. Groovy, huh?!)
Well, I graduated with my degree in 2005 and proceeded to unsuccessfully look for a teaching gig in our rural county. That led to some frustrating times, but, on a high note, as a graduation gift, Shelly had the third bay of our garage converted into an actual studio space for me.
There, I had a cement floor, walls, a door, windows and a place to escape to when the real world inside Hell’s 1/2 Acre grew too... well... hellacious.
So, it’s within those very sacred new walls, I could play my drums, work on drawings, paintings, crank my PA loud whilst I recharged my batteries and got my Erbal mojo back into working order.
I’m not sure of the year, but it was around 2007 when I went to Webster to see the latest Resident Evil flick. Now, I’ve always been a zombie-phile, so, an afternoon filled with buttery popcorn, cold Dt. Coke and Mila kicking some rotting, undead ass, sounded like heaven. So I got there early as always and found my seat. There may have only been a handful of other zombie-lovers in the theater, (just as I prefer it). So I settled in and got ready for some zombie-goodness. I promptly fell asleep.
I awoke just as the movie started, but it was the dream I had that would change my life forever.
I awoke in the same theater, but all was dark. Not even those strings of floor lights on the stairs offered any illumination. I staggered to my feet and looked around. There was no one else in the place. I felt and fumbled my way down the stairs and made my way to the exit. It didn’t budge.
A strange, bitter smell crept in through the seams of the door and held the stench of fire and burnt flesh.
I slowly made my way to the fire door in the front of the theater and it too offered resistance. I gave the metal door a few good slams and it finally opened up enough for me to get my chubby arse through. I felt bile rush forth into my mouth as I discovered the source of the blockage. It was two dead ushers, who looked as if they had been mauled and half-eaten by a grizzly. I looked out into the parking lot, toward town and all around was bloody chaos. Screams of horror and people violently attacking one another. No! Eating them! Fires raged in nearby buildings and sirens blared as a cold rain came down.
Something tugged at my leg and I jumped back, as one of the dead bodies, groped at me and tried to bite me. Their eyes were gone, replaced by a fiery red glow as black tears fled down their red-slicked face.
I screamed and woke up.
The movie had just started, and I fought to catch my breath.
I enjoyed the movie, relished in the buttery popcorn and diet soda. But that dream stuck with me. My mind raced with ideas and possibilities. I’m not even sure why.
I raced home, hung with my Dad for, took Rask, our adorable, yet grumpy lab-mix, out for his evening business trip and quickly ran to the Studio and sat down and wrote my very first novel. (And yes, he is in the book. He’s actually a mix of Rask and a pudgy, yellow lab we had when I was a teen, Maico. Keep reading and you shall see.)
Aeternus Umbra/ the Last in Line was born that day and I’ll never forget the magic and an overwhelming sense of serendipity that washed over me. Now it’s seen many revisions and changes over the past ten years and with the help of many folks, especially Louise Bohmer and Kurt Criscione. I feel this is the story I always wanted to tell, but the inexperienced writer in me back then didn’t quite have the skill, or the proper voice to tell the tale.
The Last in Line is an ode to many fathers: George Romero, Brian Keene, Frank Miller, comic books, heavy metal, Dungeons & Dragons, my friends, hell, my entire childhood and hometown of Marion, New York, aka, Arcadia Falls.
I’ve written other books and short stories with plans to write many more novels, but, this book you hold in your hands is not only a fun, retro-zombie novel, but it is also a historic milestone in my life. Here we are so many years later, I truly hope you dig it.
So, pop a squat, put on some Dio or Iron Maiden vinyl, grab a cold beverage and close the door. (It might enhance your experience just like it did mine whilst writing the book.) My advice to you, dear reader, dear Citizen, when the universe calls, answer the damn phone and never forget the inspirational and immortal words of Kevin Smith, go out and live a “why not” life!
-Thom Erb, Feb. 2018, Hell’s ½ Acre, NY.
PRAISE FOR TONES OF HOME
"With TONES OF HOME Thomas A. Erb takes us home for some deeply disturbing holidays. Chilling and full of bizarre twists. Thumbs up."-Jonathan Maberry, New York Times best-selling author of FLESH & BONE and V-WARS
"Thomas Erb's TONES OF HOME has to be the bloodiest, the most ruthless, and yet the most honest love story I've come across since Natural Born Killers. Erb put his hooks into me with this one and had me guessing right up to the last page. It's a nail-biter through and through, and I'm betting it's going to leave you as stunned as it left me. Oh-and Quentin Tarantino, if you're looking for your next movie, the search stops here."-Joe McKinney, Bram Stoker Award-winning author of Inheritance and Dead City
"In 'Tones of Home' Thomas A. Erb will gently take you by the hand and lead you away from safety. His clean, unpretentious writing style is a treat for any reader. Recommended!"-James Roy Daley - author of The Dead Parade and Terror Town.
"This one has that wonderful nightmare quality - the one where you know you're dreaming but can't wake up, and imagined terrors are suddenly all too real. In other words, a reader's high."-David Dunwoody, author of THE HARVEST CYCLE
“If you’re into old school Rock and Roll and like your horror fiction dark and super nasty like I do, you’re going to LOVE Thomas A. Erb’s new book. TONES OF HOME is extreme horror at its best and it knocked me on my ass when I read it. Highly recommended!”-Gord Rollo, Author of THE JIGSAW MAN and THE CRUCIFIXION EXPERIMENTS.
'Tones of Home' starts at full-speed and never lets up. Unpredictable and astonishingly bloody!” Thomas A. Erb's story telling is a brutal, fast-paced read which hooks the reader in from the very start. Gallons of blood, plenty of violence, and the Fab Four... you'll not have read anything like this before!”- David Moody, author of HATER and AUTUMN Series.
"Thomas Erb's TONES OF HOME is the kind of story that—once you realize what's happening—you can't help but wish you came up with something even half as cool. An unforgettable, original terror tale." -The Horror Fiction Review
"TONES OF HOME is full-tilt, in-your-face horror ... If blood and mayhem are to your taste, you'll be satisfied to the max. ... And I will never be able to listen to the Beatles music the same way again."-Rick Hautala- Author of Indian Summer and Glimpses.
“TONES OF HOME mixes old school horror with an intense new enthusiasm. This is the one fans of the Erbman have been waiting for. And if you’re not already a fan, this will make you one.” -Gregory Hall, Author, host of the Funky Werepig.
PRAISE FOR HEAVEN, HELL, OR HOUSTON-
"Gruesome and gritty action coupled with pulse-pounding horror. I couldn't put it down." -David Dunwoody, author of EMPIRE and THE HARVEST CYCLE.
Thom Erb's HEAVEN, HELL, OR HOUSTON is feverish, hardscrabble Texas noir, with a salty mix of brooding revenge tale and literary grindhouse. Erb lends an authentic voice to a cast of rich but flawed characters, and a plot that promises action at every startling turn. A+++!-Shroud Quarterly
"Erb delivers a dark and gritty zombie tale filled with wicked characters and gruesome violence and a cool-as-hell noir-like protagonist you can root for." -David Bernstein, author of Machines of the Dead and Toxic Behemoth.
“...Books like HHH aren’t accidents, I suspect. They are products of a displaced soul. They are a product of a Texan, born elsewhere...Erb is one of the most honest and sensitive Texas voices I’ve read outside of a Larry McMurtry novel...” -Joe McKinney, Bram Stoker Award Winning Author of the Dead World series and Inheritance.
Abou
t The Author
Refusing to pigeonhole his writing, hybrid author, Thom Erb—Author of Heaven-Hell-Houston, Tones of Home, Dark Gardens, loves to explore varying concepts and definitions of heroism. He crafts griping, fast-paced tales that ignore genres; only seeking to tell the story that needs to be told.
Thom holds an A.A. In Fine Arts and a Master's Degree in Art Education and is also an illustrator of murals, book covers and beyond. When not writing, Thom digs reading, music, Dungeons and Dragons, playing drums, quality TV. Shows and films. And rooting for the Dallas Cowboys, NY Yankees and the Texas Rangers. He lives in western New York with his amazing wife, Michelle and their trio of hellcats; Gillie, Houie, and Maggie.
Go to www.thomerb.com for more information.
