​EXPLORING THE LABYRINTH: DEAD SEA

 
In this series, I will be reading every Brian Keene book that has been published (and is still available in print) in order of original publication, and then producing an essay on it. With the exception of Girl On The Glider, these essays will be based upon a first read of the books concerned. The article will assume you’ve read the book, and you should expect MASSIVE spoilers.
 
I hope you enjoy my voyage of discovery.
 
10. Dead Sea
 
On his podcast, The Horror Show with Brian Keene, Keene has mentioned more than once his friendship with George Romero. A story he particularly enjoys telling is one about how, upon hearing that Keene’s novel The Rising featured “zombies” (actually, as we’ve discussed, corpses possessed by intradimensional nasties) that had fairly decent motor control and were capable of running, Romero said to Keene, with a good natured smile, “Fast zombies suck!”
 
The phrase became somewhat of a touchstone between the two men, appearing in items they transcribed for each other, and indeed Keene wrote a short movie, currently available on YouTube, that used the phrase for the title.
 
I bring this up because Dead Sea sees Keene revisiting the zombie apocalypse, but this time, the zombies are not the Siquissim of The Rising series; instead we have the Romero article, shambling, mindless corpses, drawn by sound, mainly, and motivated entirely by appetite. Though with a customary Keene wrinkle, whatever is causing the zombification affects mammals as well as humans. So it starts with rats in New York City.
 
The novel’s protagonist is Lamar Reed, a black gay man from Baltimore, whose life was just beginning to slide into dangerous waters when the end of the world arrived. As we join him, it’s several weeks in, and he’s living (platonically) with his male neighbour, making occasional raids out to local stores to stock up on supplies. Keene does his usual masterful job of bringing us up to speed with the events so far, establishing the status quo, and then gleefully blowing it up, when his neighbour is killed during a forage, with Lamar left fleeing through the streets of Baltimore, indiaquetely armed, with zombies close behind, and the city in flames.
 
The first third of the novel is an action tour de force as Lamar finds two children, Tasha and  Malik, living alone in their apartment, rescues them, and then is forced to take them through the hellscape of the city streets while zombie hordes roam and fire creeps ever closer. All of the stuff Keene does so well comes into play here - breakneck pacing, brilliantly realised action horror sequences, and excellent visualisation that propelled me through the book, desperate to know what would happen next. As an exercise in sustained action horror and cinematic storytelling, it’s as good as anything Keene has written to date; which is to say, pretty fucking good.
 
Obviously the pacing changes a bit once the survivors make it on board the boat, and they manage to make sail, leaving Baltimore burning behind them.  Here the narrative shifts, too, into a more claustrophobic, survival horror mode, as the nineteen survivors are forced to adjust to the reduced circumstances, and to each other.
 
It’s an absolutely classic horror situation, and Keene allows it to play out well, gathering the group for a briefing from the ship’s captain, and using that plausible setting to introduce the cast of characters. There’s so much potential here for issues - the slowdown in pacing, the sheer number of people Keene now needs us to get to know - but Keene handles the whole thing with a sure touch that looks effortless, and I found myself drawn in, eager to know more about these people, and their lives before the fall.
 
Of course, it’s a Keene novel, so part of you is also wondering who  is going to die, and how.
 
After a shore excursion to gather supplies that goes horribly wrong (incorporating an encounter with a pleasingly deranged man of the cloth), the situation on board deteriorates further once the crew discover that the infection has spread to the fish. From there, following another superb claustrophobic action sequence, a handful of the cast end up in a lifeboat, heading for an offshore oil platform with zombie dolphins hard on their heels.
 
This may seem a little hypocritical after I praised Keene’s range in the last essay, but I have to say that I really enjoyed the return to pure pulp action horror that Dead Sea represents. There’s a rush to it, done well, that’s all - adrenaline, thrills, spills, and some lovely, unfussy, note perfect character work that kept me engaged with the story throughout. I’m sure there’s a debate to be had about a straight white author writing a black gay lead, but; well, two things - one, in principle, I’m profundly queasy about unilaterally saying that should be off limits - if representation matters (and it fucking does), then white authors, should, maybe must, engage (with care, sensitivity and humilty) with and write charicters from backgrounds and life experiences other than their own (I mean, shit, if we’re not doing that, what the fuck are we doing, anyway?). But/and/also secondly, being also straight and white, I am acutely aware that I’m not best placed to spot any issues there may be with the way Lamar is portrayed, so I’ll leave that there, I think.
 
Fucking hell, though, this is fun. I’ve mentioned it before, but one of the things this project is really reinforcing for me is my love of top drawer pulp horror; done right, it really is a thing of considerable grace, joy, and beauty. Those may sound like odd words to describe a novel as viscerally nasty and psychologically and emotionally bleak as Dead Sea, but if you’ve come this far, I suspect, as a fellow pulp horror fan, you know exactly what I’m talking about. And Keene does this stuff about as well as anyone out there.
 
Next Up: Shades, in collaboration with Dave Cooper.
 
KP
6/9/19