John Rector - The Walls Around Us

The characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living, dead, or somewhere in-between, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

Copyright 2011 by John Rector.

All rights reserved.

Except as permitted under the US Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

First eBook Edition: September 2011

Published by John Rector

Cover Design by John Hornor Jacobs

Praise for

The Cold Kiss

A whirlpool of greed, betrayal, depravity, viciousness, and violence. Characters gradually reveal alarming proclivities, and portents of disaster accumulate like wind-driven snow. Rectors spare, unadorned style makes these portents and proclivities even more jarring. A sly and very accomplished first novel.

Booklist

Terrific narrative and real compelling style a cross between James Crumley and A Simple Plan .

Ken Bruen Shamus Award-winning author of The Guards

The Cold Kiss is a slice of tragicomic noir Americana, a spiraling tale of bad luck and viciousness leavened only by author John Rectors savage glee at the ever-worsening state of his protagonists circumstances. One of the best debuts Ive read in a very long time.

Scott Phillips , award-winning author of The Ice Harvest

Tense, taut, and throat-grabbing Reads like a cross between No Country for Old Men and Deliverance .

Eric Van Lustbader, New York Times bestselling author

Clever plotting and spare prose Dean Koontz fans will find much to like in Rectors debut.

Publishers Weekly

Theres no better place to spend a few imaginative hours these days than Rectors snowbound motel.

National Review

Praise for

The Grove

"Tough, dark, and beautifully told. Great storytelling."

David Peoples , screenwriter of Unforgiven, Twelve Monkeys , and Blade Runner

"Spare and evocative as a cornfield in autumn, The Grove marks the arrival of a haunting, powerful new voice in contemporary fiction. John Rector writes with deceptive grace, spinning out irresistible prose with a dark pulse between every line. This is psychological suspense at its most seductive. I loved it."

Sean Doolittle , award-winning author of Dirt, Burn, Rain Dogs, The Cleanup , and Safer

Praise for

Already Gone

The suspense and plot twists are gripping This one is hard to put down.

Library Journal

" ALREADY GONE is a terse, moody thriller by one of the best new writers to enter the scene in a very long time... John Rector is a game changer."

Spinetingler Magazine

THE

WALLS

AROUND

US

Contents

Introduction

Ive been debating for a while about whether or not to release any of my early short stories. Part of me thought it would be fun to dig them up and push them back out into the world, but until recently, a larger part of me believed they were better off left buried. It wasnt until I began receiving emails from curious readers wanting to know where they could find these early stories, that I seriously considered putting a few of them together in a collection.

With the exception of one lone horror story, this is primarily a collection of mystery, noir, and suspense tales. Each one was written before I ever attempted a novel, and they appear here exactly as I originally wrote them and as they were first published. Some of these stories I hadnt looked at for years, and reading them over again turned out to be a lot more fun than I was expecting.

For anyone interested in where a particular story was originally published, when it was written, or what went into the writing, Ill go over each story in more detail in the afterword. For everyone else, I hope you find something here you enjoy.

Thank you for reading,

JR

A Sharp White Light

Im usually better at hiding things, but Ava knew something was wrong even before I hung up the phone.

That was the Department of Corrections, I said. My father died last night.

Ava didnt say anything, instead she rested her head against my shoulder. It was exactly what I needed. She knew how things were with me and my father, and there was no need for a big display of emotion.

I pushed the sheet back and reached for my pants on the floor.

Stay home today, she said. Youre already late.

I cant. Marcus will kill me. Im already going to hear about this.

Yeah, but She paused. Today, Jack? Stay home with me and Jacob. Marcus will understand.

She pulled me back into bed, and I let myself be pulled. The morning sun slid between the curtains and dripped, soft and golden, across the sheets. It was nice, and I leaned my head against her stomach and stared up at the ceiling and the sharp white light reflecting in from the world.

For a long time, neither of us spoke. When Ava did, her voice was soft. Did they say how he died?

You know how he died.

I know, she said. But was he peaceful? Did he say anything?

That was just like Ava, always looking for some deeper meaning in everything. My father had lung cancer and had been hacking up clots of blood for months. He never went to a doctor and never said a word to anyone. When he did finally see a doctor during a required six month check-up, they told him it had spread to his brain. And still, he never talked about it. The idea of him saying something that would shine a clarifying light on his life, and somehow make everything okay just didnt click.

He died and that was it.

I didnt ask, I said.

I knew she wanted to say more. I could feel it just below the surface, and I wasnt ready for that. I looked at the clock and pushed myself up.

You sure?

I nodded then looked at her in bed. The shape of her body cutting through the sheet almost made me change my mind, then I thought about Marcus and the diner. Saturday was our busiest day, and hed be there alone. At seventy-six, Marcus wasnt as quick behind the grill as hed once been.

I grabbed yesterdays shirt off the floor, smelled it, and slid it on. Ill be back around three, I said, then leaned in close and kissed her on the forehead. Dont worry about me.

I dont worry about you, baby.

She smiled, but I knew she was lying.

On my way out I went into Jacobs room. He was still asleep in his crib. I stood for a moment watching, then I reached in and put my hand on his chest. I knew from experience I could lose hours like that, but right then, feeling the slow back and forth of my sons breathing, I couldnt have cared less.

~

The bus let me off two blocks from the diner, and I walked the rest of the way. As I got closer I saw the flashing lights out front. There was a rooming house across the street, so it wasnt unusual to see cop cars and fire trucks. But this time there were too many of them.

Something was different.

Rita, the morning waitress, saw me before I saw her. She met me halfway down the block.

They finally did it, she said. They tried to burn down the God damn building.

Rita was a conspiracy theorist.

Lewis saw a couple of them sneaking around the alley last night after we closed up, and then this happens. She crossed her arms over her chest and shook her head. Were lucky no one was inside when it happened, otherwise someone mightve been killed.

Rita read crime novels.

You know theyve been trying to drive us out, and now, they mightve succeeded. Marcus is too old to rebuild this place. Hes already said hes going to Daytona to live with his sister and