Matthews - On the Lips of Children

On the Lips ofChildren

By

Mark Matthews

Mark Matthews novel On the Lips of Childrenis a brutal, intense ride of claustrophobic horror and gritty,page-turning suspense. This is dark fiction at its visceral,chilling best.

~ Jan Kozlowski, author of Die, You Bastard!Die!

BOOKS of theDEAD

SmashwordsEdition

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An ordinary running trailbecomes the most terrifying place on the planet for Mark Matthewstroubled, likeable, marathon-running, tattooed, hipsterprotagonists and their young daughter. But for the horror-show clanliving under that trailwho subsist on flesh and bath salts in anightmare orgy of blood and crazythe hipsters are a rare treatindeed. As the family v. family showdown transpires underground andoff the beaten path, the vulnerability of running on a trailalonebut for the watchers in the woodsmakes the setting unique and wellcrafted. Written with verve, surprising compassion, and bite, Onthe Lips of Children is a seriously demented must read. ~ Sacha Z. Scoblic, author of Unwasted: My LushSobriety

Mark Matthews On the Lipsof Children is a sprint down a path of high-adrenaline terror thatnever offers the comfort of monsters you can dismiss by remindingyourself theres no such thing as... The story alternates betweenharsh reality and an almost dream-like surreality while neverlosing sight of the real heart of good storytelling. Matthewsdemonstrates that you dont have far down to go to reach theunderworld, yet the road back up is a lot harder run than anyone isprepared to make. ~ Bracken MacLeod,author of Mountain Home

On the Lips of Children byMark Matthews, is a dark, terrifying page-turner. Its StephenKings Misery on bath salts. In a cave. It scared the crap out ofme. The story was original. The characters were fascinating,exposing the reader to worlds foreign to most of us. Matthews has aknack for pacing his story then jolting the reader with afrightening plot twist. I was impressed by how he wrapped up theending. Read this book. ~ Michele Miller,author of The Thirteenth Step: Zombie Recovery, an AmazonBreakthrough Novel Award quarterfinalist

Mark Matthews keenability to bring his own very real personal experiences to life inthe guise of fiction, in this instance delightfully horrificfiction, makes even the macabre relatable. ~ Peter Rosche, author of My Dead Friend Sarah

On the Lips of Childrenpulled me in early on. Within the first chapters, Marks well-pacedplot had me experiencing every footstep with him, riveted. By thetime their daughter Lyrics perspective engulfed me, the story waswhirling by, her innocence eating at my heart, each stride drawingme from one word to the next. Who knew an innocent run through thepark could be so startling and gruesome? Fans of thrilling chasesand horrifying tales where family and innocence hang in the balancewill certainly enjoy On the Lips of Children. ~ Weston Kincade, author of A Life of Death

On the Lips of Children isdark and gritty. Even the peaceful moments feel dangerous. Alwayson the border of safety, danger, and death. Readers beware. ~ Jay Wilburn, author of Loose Ends

What would you do for yourfamily? Anything, of course. Blood is thicker than water, afteralland sweeter, too. On the Lips of Children is a gritty,sadomasochistic tale of misguided loyalty and dysfunctionalkininnocence morphed into desperate beasts that are hypnotized bythe stars at night and the glint of steel as it parts quiveringflesh. ~ Richard Thomas, author of StaringInto the Abyss

This book is a work of fiction. Allcharacters, events, dialog, and situations in this book arefictitious and any resemblance to real people or events is purelycoincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book maybe used or reproduced in any manner without written permissionexcept in the case of reprinted excerpts for the purpose ofreviews.

Cover Design by KeriKnutson

Edited by Wake Editing andJames Roy Daley

ON THE LIPS OF CHILDREN

BOOKS of the DEAD PRESS

Copyright 2013 by Mark Matthews

Also by Mark Matthews:

Stray

The Jade Rabbit

For more information, contact:Besthorror@gmail.com

Visit us at: Booksofthedeadpress.com

Between 2008 and 2012, US authoritiesdiscovered at least seventy-five drug-smuggling tunnels along thelength of the 1,950-mile border between Tijuana and SouthernCalifornia.

This is the story of one of them.

Prologue

Particles of cave dust stirred in the air.Lupita felt them hit her nostrils, damp bits of subterranean sootgoing through her nose and then in and out of her lungs. Thedarkness was thick and impenetrable by sight, but movements ofothers were felt, and one of the hostages had just shifted. Thetourists hadnt tried to flee or she would have felt a smallsandstorm in the dust. Even their breath made shadow particlesmove. They were still tied up and could only inchworm across thefloor. They were done begging for help now; only small whimpersremained.

Dante had stabbed one who wouldnt stop hisbegging and be quite. The high-pitched words of the captivescreeched, and she could still hear them echoing forever in thiscave. Now he was quiet and may have bled out. He could even bedead.

Hours went by, or days, or maybe monthssince the whole place had gone dark. The tunnel was shut down,caved in on the Tijuana side, and her husband was off to look forthe way through. That was days agoor hours. It was unclear. It hadbeen long enough that the flashlight batteries were dead.

It goes to da USA, all da way. I know it;smuggled meth through here before. Smuggled people before. Mybrother went through before I did. And you and me, were going togo soon. Just got to hit one good lick.

If they ever had a chance of gettinganything for the hostages, it was over. One captive had provedpromising after some cell phone calls. A family from the U.S. wasto meet them at the duty-free shop. That was supposed to havehappened already. She imagined them waiting there; maybe stilllooking, maybe gone, maybe they changed their minds and reallythought the police might help.

The other ones were unclaimed, but strippedof all that they had and tied up tight.

Now she was buried alive with them in thisdark tomb. This wasnt one of those big tunnels, built like anelevator shaft with electricity; this was a pit, dug with barely ashovel, started but never completed, and now caved in, maybe onpurpose.

All she knew was the flesh by her side, herbabies, T and Q. Q, her little boy, hadnt fed in a while and T,her girl, tried to suck at her breast, which had gone dry long ago.Q was starving and wasting away. Sometimes he shook, sometimes hegasped for air, but mostly he lay unconscious or asleep. She feltboth of them disintegrating and eaten by the dark. Her and thebones of her two children lying side by side would be all thatremained. They would never be found, but that might beat a lifewith Dante.

Their tongues were dry, her milk was gone,and the last bit of water in the plastic jug had evaporated. Shewondered if her monthly bleeding would arrive to help her measurethe time. She urinated often at first, had even lost count, butthis had stopped, and there was little bowel to pass. Her fingersclamored over the flesh of her children, always feeling their skin,comforting every piece, holding them against her flesh, cradlingthem together. They may have been better off had their eyes neveropened.

The cave was crude, but the room they werein had been given the most attention and made into a small chamber.There was space for belongings, a little table set up, and somecrates of supplies. But it was now swimming in the dark pool of inksurrounding them and the voices of the hostages.

Please, please, lady. Just let us go now.Please, let us out. We can all go together and get out ofhere.