by Jonas Saul
In The Terror, I wanted to take Sarah back to her roots. I wanted to have her on her own, that maverick kick-ass girl we all came to love in Dark Visions and The Warning. The Sarah that does it her way, with supporting characters in the background. If this was your cup of tea, then my plan worked. If this wasn’t, and you prefer Sarah surrounded by her supporting cast, you’re in luck: Sarah returns in The Chase (Book 19), with almost everyone I can gather. You’ll see—in no particular order—Darwin Kostas, Bruno, Drake Bellamy (AKA John Whitman), Spencer, Aaron, Daniel, Benjamin, Alex, Parkman, Buck Schaffer (AKA Casper) and a whole lot more.
In The Terror, I wanted to touch on bullying. Mason’s a bully. He hits women freely, bosses his fellow officers around, and does what he wants without much regard for anyone. I wrote him in because I hate bullies. Most of us have had to deal with bullies in our past, or at least seen their destructive effect on others. I dealt with a few bullies in grade school. It wasn’t until around grade seven when I learned that bullies were basically cowards. That understanding comes complete with a free black eye if you’re not careful how you express that knowledge, but I learned quickly how to handle them and by grade nine, bullies were a thing of the past for me.
My sensei years ago always taught us to walk away. His mantra was never fight. Then he went on to teach us how to fight—90 percent self-defense, 10 percent aggression—although I got the message. I learned a lot from that man and now Aaron emulates him. Aaron is as good as my sensei. I still wear the scars on my knuckles from the board breaking and the intense workouts my sensei put us through. What I don’t wear anymore is the fear of a bully. That’s their issue, not mine, and I don’t take it on. Sarah seems to be able to deal with the Tom Masons of the world as I would (without murdering them—that part’s fiction), with confidence, bold statements and action. And a serious deficiency of fear.
I don’t claim to have all the answers on bullying. Sometimes a bully isn’t a coward. Sometimes they’re an asshole who loves to fight. As a rule, I’ve navigated the bully terrain my way and found moderate to confident success. I hope you do too if ever faced with an idiot and a fist.
Satanism is an interesting belief system. I say this because, as Sarah believes, I do too, that there is no such thing as a devil. A God of love would never create a being in his image and then delegate an ultimatum like believe in me or you’ll burn in a lake of fire. If that’s love, then what’s hate? I might alienate several religious people here—to those people let me just say that I respect your right to believe in whatever you’ve decided to believe. Extend that courtesy to me as well. Doesn’t that go along with the nonjudgmental nature of religion?
As I’ve mentioned in previous Afterwords, I’ve spent several years studying various religions of the world, but I had not studied Satanism. I met a man in my retail business when I was in my mid-twenties. He always dressed in black and wore a 1920s era black hat. Curious, I asked him why the black garb. He told me, with a quirky smile, that he was a Satanist. His parents were ultra-religious fanatics, he explained, which drove him nuts. Not sure how that works, but shouldn’t religions endear people to them with promises of wonderment in the afterlife? Yet it seems I meet so many people (since the days of my twenties) who have turned from religion if they were raised in it.
A few more quick points. The part about the Abbotsford RCMP investigating the Kelowna detachment in chapter 34 was true. That is still happening at the time of this publication. I showed Officer Lee’s frustration with the state of his force by adding that bit. Along with that, the investigation into the man who died who had been in need of medical attention and the ensuing investigation afterwards in Kelowna was also true. In addition, the Kelowna taxi cab intimidation story was pulled from the local newspaper. Lastly, the Hell’s Angels are in a legal battle over one of their houses on Ellis Street in Kelowna as the government is trying to seize their property. HA is actively fighting the seizure as mentioned in the novel. All of that is true and still happening at the time of publication in Kelowna, which was once ranked with the highest crime rate in all of Canada per capita.
Regarding police officers. I need to point out, as I did at the end of book 10, The Antagonist, that I don’t have an issue with cops. In fact, it’s the opposite. I love and respect what they do. What I hate are power-tripping cops. Or bad cops, which make for good fiction.
Here’s a quick story about cops:
When I was eighteen, my girlfriend of over a year broke up with me. She walked away without telling me a reason why. To this day, I still don’t know what happened all those years ago (but it doesn’t matter now). Two weeks after the breakup, I was hanging out with a few of my friends, staying busy, keeping my mind off things, when I see her and three other people—two guys and another girl—in the park across the road. Thinking she might want to talk, tell me what happened, I left my pack of friends, crossed the road and called out her name in a friendly manner. The foursome got up and started walking in the other direction.
I pleaded for her to stop, give me a minute of her time. These are the days before cell phones or texting—even email. When you wanted to talk to someone you could call their house, but if they were perpetually never home, bumping into them at the park offered a person a chance to talk. After several minutes of walking behind the foursome, keeping pace at a safe distance, I gave up and rejoined my friends on the other side of the street. It was pointless, I explained to them. She obviously didn’t want to clear things up or talk to me ever again.
Fifteen minutes later, a police cruiser pulled into the parking area where I was hanging out with my friends. The officer got out of his car, strode up to us, and barked out my name. Panicked, I stood and told him I was him.
At this time, I thought something had happened to my parents or a member of my family. I was wrong.
It turned out my ex-girlfriend had called the cops on me and laid a complaint of harassment. I was manhandled into the back of the cruiser and told that my future as a police officer was gone. (I had applied to be a cop and was currently working as a patrol officer with a local security company.) The cop charged me with something called Watch and Beset, which is a crime under a subsection in the Canadian criminal code under the title Harassment.
I hired a lawyer and one year later ended up in court. The charges were dropped as the case was frivolous and the complainant never showed up in court. I walked out a free man with no criminal record and a few thousand dollars lighter.
In conclusion, I’m not a bad guy. I’ve never hit a woman and abhor men who do. I was not following that foursome in a threatening manner nor did I pose a threat. This was a girl who used the system, in my opinion. The cop was overzealous and unnecessarily mean. I never lost my job at the security company because of the charge and the only reason I didn’t get the job at the police department was because I had broken my back and was deemed unfit for the force. I understand, in today’s world, following someone can be a scary ordeal. But in 1988, in a wide-open park, one boy following four people, practically begging to have an audience for several minutes, isn’t a crime. As far as I know, it still isn’t.
The reason I added this story was because of the cop’s behavior. I still remember sitting in the back of that cruiser, the Plexiglas jammed against my knees, wondering what my family would say to me. Wondering what my future would look like without law enforcement, as my father had spent so many years as a decorated police officer with Ontario Provincial Police and the Toronto Metro Police. The cop yelled at me, berated me, and made me feel quite small. It didn’t fit the deed. He kept me locked in that back seat in front of a convenience store where all my friends gathered to make sure there was a certain level of embarrassment, too. Either way, it all resulted in nothing and the cop’s threats of no future were empty.
Anyway, on to a brighter topic. I’d like to shout out a special thanks to the people who helped make this novel complete. I appreciate being able to use Stephen Lee’s name, as well as Corey H
allagan, Nan Hammock, Mark Gossett, Trever Florko, and Julie Deighton. An extra special shout out goes to John and Lori DeBeau who you met in the hospital scene in Vernon with Sarah. John is suffering from Lewy Body Dementia. That part is not fiction. They’ve got a large family and like anyone else in their situation, they’re moving forward in life with this hanging over them, being as strong as they can be for each other. I wanted to bring light to what real people, real families, struggle with on a daily basis. Sometimes life is stranger than fiction, and sometimes fiction can bring light to that life.
Be well, John and Lori DeBeau. Sending my best to you and your family.
On that note, it’s time to wrap up and prepare for The Chase, book nineteen in the Sarah Series. I simply cannot wait for The Chase because it’ll set up the twentieth novel, The Betrayal, which will bring down the house. I’m messed up over these novels because of what’s coming. I hope you all find them to your liking.
Thank you, Dear Reader, for coming along on this journey with me. It’s been a good run. I’m loving every minute of it and there’s still so much more to come.
Until then, be well, take care of yourselves, and each other. Spread love, not hate, and read, read, read.
Sending my love, as always,
Jonas Saul
P.S. For those who love my little stories, here’s one more about what I deem bad cops—at least in the sense of cops harassing the public.
On a cool fall day in October 1986, I was walking on a busy street in Calgary, Alberta, headed downtown to the Greyhound station where I had placed my luggage in a locker the night before. I was sixteen years old and was heading home to my parents after spending time with my sister. I had a ticket in my pocket for a 48-hour ride from Calgary to Toronto.
As I passed a side street, I witnessed two men sitting in a nondescript brown vehicle on the side street. The men seemed to be watching me. I looked away, saw the busy street—multiple cars whizzed by me going both ways—and realized that those two guys were cops in an undercover car monitoring traffic.
I looked back at them just before they were lost from sight and smiled to myself at how well they were hidden from view. It was genius really. I mean, these guys could see all the traffic without a single driver seeing them until it was too late.
In 1986 I had hair past my shoulders and I always wore my red and black lumber jacket. Who doesn’t think they’re cool at sixteen years of age?
Anyway, I guess those cops didn’t like the way I looked at them—and I assure you I didn’t have a disrespectful bone in my body toward police officers in those days. Shit man, I was in Bible study at sixteen!
The undercover cruiser turned on, the wheels screeched, and the car lurched into the road, swung around in front of me and jerked to a halt. The passenger cop jumped out, flipped open his ID, said his name out loud to this stunned kid (yeah, I’ll admit it, I was freaked out), and ordered me into the back seat.
I complied.
Once in the back seat they asked me who I was, what I was up to and where I was going. When I told them I was heading to the bus station, they asked what my destination was. I produced my ticket. I was grilled on why I was running from Calgary. Who did I burn? What mess was I leaving behind? Nothing I said seemed on the level to these guys.
Finally, the driver got the car going again and headed downtown. The entire way, they warned me that my luggage had better be in the locker I told them it would be in.
At the Greyhound Station, these two officers escorted me inside, one on each arm (they left bruises), to the delight of dozens of travelers who got a free show. They made me open my locker and produce my luggage. Once my bag was on the floor, one of the cops unzipped it and rummaged through everything, upturning my neatly folded clothes, and ruining the packing job that I’d spent time organizing. He claimed he was looking for the drugs I had stashed away, drugs they never found as I’ve abstained from drugs my entire life.
Once that was complete, my bag left open in disarray on the bus station floor, clothes haphazardly strewn everywhere, the two officers got up, patted my shoulder, offered me a warning of some kind, and walked out of the station.
I collected my things and continued my travels to Toronto. When I got home and opened my bag, I discovered what the cop had done. When my attention was diverted in the bus depot in Calgary, the officer had located my expensive cologne, unscrewed the cap, then gently placed it back in the zipped pouch. After I jammed my clothes back inside and closed the main zipper of the luggage, I didn’t touch my bag again until I left the bus in Toronto. During the 48-hour ride, the cologne emptied all over my bag, soiling my clothes and costing me an expensive bottle for a sixteen-year old.
I had done nothing wrong. Is it a crime to look at cops? Is it a crime to think their plan of watching traffic was brilliant? These were two overzealous police officers out having fun at my expense, and this isn’t the first and only time it happened.
I have another half a dozen times I’ve experienced something like this with officers of the law. To write about them all would need several more chapters. I’m a law-abiding citizen with no criminal record. I would hate to see how certain cops treat people who are actually breaking the law. We’ve all seen some of that on YouTube.
In summation, not all cops are like this and I spend considerable time sending good karma their way whenever I can.
I thought I’d offer my experiences to shed light on why I’m so passionate about bad cops and how destructive their behavior is.
If you’ve got a “bad cop story,” write it up and mail it to me at the address provided in the About the Author section of this book. Or email it to me at [email protected]. I’d love to hear it. And let me know if I can reproduce any of it and/or whether you want your name omitted.
Until next time, be well, and kiss your loved ones goodnight.
Jonas Saul
December 28, 2016 Addendum: The Abbotsford RCMP have announced the investigation into the Kelowna RCMP is over. They found no evidence to continue the investigation.
Jonas Saul Titles
The Sarah Roberts Series
1. Dark Visions
2. The Warning
3. The Crypt
4. The Hostage
5. The Victim
6. The Enigma
7. The Vigilante
8. The Rogue
9. Killing Sarah
10. The Antagonist
11. The Redeemed
12. The Haunted
13. The Unlucky
14. The Abandoned
15. The Cartel
16. Losing Sarah
17. The Pact
18. The Terror
19. The Chase (Coming Soon)
20. The Betrayal (Coming Soon)
21. Sarah’s Return (Coming 2018)
The Jake Wood Series
1. The Snake
2. The Target (Coming Soon)
The Mafia Trilogy (Starring Darwin and Rosina Kostas)
1. The Kill
2. The Blade
3. The Scythe
Standalone Novels
1. The Threat (Starring Drake Bellamy)
2. The Specter (Starring Aaron Stevens)
3. A Murder in Time (Starring Marcus Johnson)
Short Story Collection
1. Twisted Fate (Tales of Horror)
About Jonas Saul
He’s been writing for over two decades and has thirty novels and over fifty short stories to his credit. At times, he has outranked Stephen King and Dean Koontz on the Top 100 Author chart on Amazon. He recently gave a two-hour speech to a creative writing class at the Okanagan College in Kelowna, B.C., and did a reading on stage at the Okanagan Valley Writers’ Festival in Penticton, B.C.
Jonas has traveled extensively to scout settings for his thrillers. After three years in Greece, one year in Italy, and almost six months in Denmark and Hungary, Jonas offers rich cultural diversity to his novels. Currently, he’s in Canada for one year, then back to
Europe for more research and touring.
His Sarah Roberts series and the Jake Wood series are both optioned in Hollywood. He is available for speeches and presentations at conferences anywhere in the world.
Contact Jonas Saul directly for inquiries at, [email protected].
Jonas is represented by Gandolfo Helin & Fountain Literary and Dramatic Rights Management.
“Sarah Roberts is one in a million. If you're her friend, she'll crawl through Hell to protect you. If you're her enemy, she'll send you there.” - Reviewer
Contact Jonas Saul
Website: http://www.jonassaul.com
Twitter: @jonassaul
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Email: [email protected]
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